CHAPTER 23 ALEK
ALEK
This day has grown too long, and I’ve been desperate for a hot meal and a soft bed for hours.
Unfortunately, it’s the middle of the night, and I’m loading a half-conscious scraver into my carriage.
Our journey is going to end in a country I loathe, in the presence of men I can’t stand.
I’m exhausted and hungry, and my clothing feels stiff and tacky with two days of dried sweat.
If there’s any relief here, it’s that the creatures’ magic has dropped the temperature by a good ten degrees— though even that comes with a price.
Igaa watches our efforts, and I have no doubt she’s ready to rip out my throat if I do anything suspicious.
She might’ve been growling at Callyn, but it’s no secret that I’m the one who hates magic here.
When the queen agreed to have us help the scraver, my immediate reaction was to wonder how we’d do such a thing.
Nakiis wasn’t exactly willing when Callyn tried to help him.
But maybe his efforts to fight us yesterday stole the last of his will, because he was barely conscious as Callyn and I carried him through the woods, and even now, his eyes barely flicker open as we ease him onto the carriage floor.
The whole time, Nora asks a thousand questions and the young princess chatters from where she clings to the queen, but Callyn and I have been completely silent since the moment we were bickering in the carriage.
I have no idea what emotions are behind her reticence, but it seems that any path we choose to follow always ends this way, with both of us at odds.
The only distraction is the fact that we’re spending so much time doing this, when we should be crossing the border into Emberfall by now.
I swipe sweat from my forehead, feeling a swell of exhaustion.
I hardly slept last night, desperate to ride back to the Crystal City to warn the queen— though I knew I had to wait until nightfall.
Now I feel as though I haven’t slept in days.
Dawn can’t be far off, and I’m not sure how much longer I can stay awake.
Callyn can’t drive the horses, which means Nora likely can’t either.
I have no doubt that Lia Mara can, but I’m reluctant to have the queen out in the open while I sleep in the carriage.
If I even could. Injured or not, the idea of being trapped inside a carriage with a scraver still makes me want to shudder. When Igaa brought Callyn to the ground, it took everything I had to keep from filling her back with bolts from the crossbow.
Once Nakiis is loaded in the carriage, Igaa doesn’t say a word. Her pale purple wings snap wide, and she leaps into the air.
— Go, she says. — Now.
I roll my eyes at the order, but I climb up onto the driver’s seat.
I’m actually shocked when Callyn reclaims her spot beside me.
A spark of anger flared in my heart when she accused me of treason, and it seems determined to burn.
I almost ask her to get down and ride in the carriage.
At this point, I might prefer Nora, even though she’d likely spend the rest of the journey yanking on my ears and trying to break my fingers.
Hell, maybe that would be better. It would keep me awake.
“Alek?”
I look over to find that Callyn is staring at me, and I realize I’m just sitting here.
I run a hand down my face and sigh, then chirp to the horses and snap the reins. “Lord Alek,” I say sourly, even though I don’t really mean it. I just hate the way she persists in getting under my skin at every turn.
“I’m sorry,” she says quietly.
For a moment, I think she’s apologizing for neglecting my title. But the weight in her voice tells me it’s more.
“It’s fine,” I say flatly. “You’ve made your feelings clear, and more than once. I’m the fool for continuing to think otherwise.”
“You have to admit that you make it hard to trust you.”
I scoff. “Do I? I’ve only ever spoken the truth to you.”
When she looks over, it’s too dark to see her expression clearly, but her eyes might as well be a lit match, because her gaze captures mine. “You might tell the truth, but it’s rarely the whole truth, and you know it.”
That stings like a dart.
Because she’s right.
I look back at the shadowed road and twitch the reins at the horses.
Overhead, Igaa loops back and forth, occasionally crossing over the moon.
She’s very high, and if I didn’t know any better, I wouldn’t give the creature a second glance.
I have no idea what would happen if Xovaar headed back this way, and I doubt I want to find out.
As the horses trot on, I’m painfully aware of the tension between me and Callyn, and I have no idea how to undo it. There are so many more important things to worry about anyway.
But the tension is here and now, and despite everything, I want to fix it.
“I was raised at court,” I say to Callyn, and my voice is rough and low.
“I know you’ve only been here for a few short months, but surely you’ve already discovered the backstabbing and doublespeak that’s part of living in the palace.
Gossip is everywhere, and knowledge is often traded like an asset.
In an environment like that, truth becomes what you make it, not necessarily what is.
” I hesitate. “You’re right that I reveal information in a calculated way.
But it’s . . . it’s not . . .” I break off and sigh.
She’s quiet, waiting, but I’m not sure how to proceed.
She’s patient, however, and I eventually grimace.
“I was going to say it’s not intentional, but that’s not precisely true.
Even this conversation is evidence of it.
You must understand that when you’ve been raised to balance and measure every word you speak, this kind of strategic discourse becomes as commonplace as breathing.
” I glance over. “At court, any vulnerability is a weakness to be exploited. Any admission of truth becomes a weapon that can be used against you.” I shrug a little.
“In my experience, it’s safer to be the weapon first.”
She frowns, but her eyes don’t leave the road. For the longest time, there’s only the sound of the hoofbeats clopping along the path.
When she finally looks over, her voice is as quiet as mine was. “I wish you’d talk to me like that more often.”
“Like what?”
“Like . . . a friend.” Her eyes are dark pools, gleaming in the moonlight. “Instead of an opponent.”
“Ah,” I say coolly. “Like a friend.” I twitch the reins again.
She shifts closer to me, and the warmth of her body presses into mine, all the way from knee to shoulder. Her hand falls on my knee, and I lose track of every thought in my head.
“Do it again,” she murmurs, and then she gives my knee a gentle squeeze.
My brain is completely fixated on the location of her hand, so I have no idea what action bears repeating. When she says do it again, every suggestion my brain offers involves a lot less clothing.
Then she says, “Talk to me, Lord Alek.”
I huff a breath that’s half laughter, half surprise. “What should I say, Lady Callyn ?”
“Is that why you’re so close to the queen?” she says— and it’s not at all what I expect her to say, so it grabs my attention. “The way you were raised at court?”
I’m not sure what to say. “Her Majesty is . . . well. I— ah—”
Her hand squeezes my knee again. “It’s clear you’re closer than you let on.”
“Is it? How?”
“Because Queen Lia Mara trusts you. It’s the only reason I keep giving you second chances.”
I look over in surprise. “Does she?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” she says. “Look at where we are!”
Well. I suppose there’s that.
Callyn gives me a nudge with her shoulder. “So tell me.”
I think back to my childhood, remembering all the times I wished I could hide in the corner like the less- favored princess.
“Lia Mara always had a book in her hands,” I say.
My words are slow, because I’ve never talked about this with anyone.
It’s not a secret, because there was never anything between us, but this part of my youth feels like a secret.
“She was always in the corners, in the shadows. Always left alone. Truly, I envied her. My mother kept pushing me at Nolla Verin, because it was clear that she was destined for the throne. If Mother hadn’t died in the war— and if Karis Luran had kept the throne— I’m sure our union would’ve been seen as a rather strategic partnership.
But it would’ve been rude to ignore Lia Mara, so I was allowed to cling to the shadows from time to time.
By then, I’d learned the ways of life at court, so we could never be truly close.
But we were companions, of a sort. We’d share books from time to time.
She’d tell me about her favorite stories— and I’d share mine. ”
For a moment, I’m lost in the memory, remembering how Lia Mara used to love the romance in her stories.
One book was quite racy, and when I teased her about it, she smacked me on the knuckles with the spine— then blushed so red that her younger sister scurried over to ask what we were talking about.
“I used to do that with Jax,” Callyn says, and her tone is musing in a way that tells me she’s lost in memories, too.
“We’d curl up in the corner of the bakery when it was cold, or sit around his forge during the summer months when he was busy.
Nora used to beg us to read the kissing scenes out loud.
” She pauses, then looks at me in the shadows.
“It’s so odd to think that we were probably all doing the same thing at the same time.
You living your life in the Crystal City, and me living mine in Briarlock. ”
I’m struck by that. Overhead, Igaa soars across the moon, plunging the path into darkness again. A cold breeze whips between the trees, a relief and an assault simultaneously.
Callyn shivers and presses closer. It’ll likely be too hot in a moment, but for right now, I don’t mind at all.
But then she says, “You can’t drive all night.”
She’s probably right. I feel ready to pitch sideways off this seat right now. “I can try,” I say.
“Well, the rest of us can’t ride all night,” she says. “Sinna is going to need to stop to eat before long.”
“Indeed. And the palace guard will likely be after us by then.”
She shivers again, but this time I know it’s not the cold. “We should find an inn. Or a tavern. Or—”
“If you think I am willing to take the queen of Syhl Shallow into a tavern unguarded while a half- dead scraver bleeds all over my carriage, you are sadly mistaken. I was prepared to protect you— not a carriage full of liabilities.”
A voice comes to us through the air, and this time it’s not Igaa.
— I am not bleeding all over your carriage, human. And I did not ask for your help.
— I did, Igaa calls from above. — They are taking us to Tycho.
“I’ll just drive straight through without stopping,” I say. “Four days shouldn’t be a problem at all.”
— Good, Igaa says, ignoring my sarcasm.
I sigh and drag a hand back through my hair. Callyn is right— we can’t ride like this forever. We’ll have to stop before long.
I look over at her, trying to ignore the fact that she’s still leaning against me.
“Our best bet is to go to ground after daybreak and travel at night,” I say.
“But we need to put more distance between ourselves and the palace— or we need a way to send guards in the opposite direction. They’ll be able to cover a lot of ground between here and the border. We need somewhere to hide.”
Callyn sighs. “With a four- year- old, no less.”
Just as she says it, thunder rolls in the distance.
Perfect, I think. Just what we need. At least a rainstorm will obstruct our tracks and make any search effort difficult.
We fall silent again, both thinking. I know Tycho had safe houses along his route as King’s Courier, but I don’t know them all— and I have no idea if they were truly safe.
We definitely can’t take a carriage over the mountain, so we’re going to have to stay relatively close to the main road— which will also mean riding through the guard station, again with a queen and scraver in my carriage.
If they demand to search my things, we’ll be caught for sure.
There’s another mountain pass farther west that’s not well guarded, but that would add ten miles to our journey and keep us on this side of the border.
Another peal of thunder rumbles across the sky, and I sigh heavily, then rub at my eyes.
I’m so tired. There’s so much at risk.
And there’s nowhere to go.
“How much farther can you drive this carriage?” Callyn says, her voice low.
“Apparently I’m supposed to drive it all the way to Ironrose Castle.”
“Alek. Truly.”
I think of the truths I just shared, how it seemed to dissolve the tension between us. I look over and make my voice equally quiet. “A few hours, maybe.” I hesitate. “Why?”
Callyn looks over, biting her lip. “Well . . . there’s one place we could go.”