Chapter 2
Rorin
“My patience is running thin, Will.” I snap, my foot tapping in annoyance against the damp ground.
The Sorrel Kingdom has been nothing but one big muddy mess.
Combining the volatile energy rippling through the air with their need to up their border security, it took one too many damn days to get here.
The only mercy was the fact that Max was able to touch base with some lingering noble family members to secure our stay on the pretence that they didn’t know why we were actually here.
They’d mentioned not wanting to know – that they were tense enough having a Collier in their midst, thanks to the growing threat of Hadar’s Guards and the knowledge of my father’s peace treaty spreading like wildfire through the royal rumor mill.
Unfortunately, my fresh title of king consort to the ‘Queen of Nightmares’ did us no favors either. Our only hope was Max’s relation and the tireless kissing of their pompous asses by Felix.
“Will.” I gripe, trying to ignore my Wield burning underneath my skin, a reaction to the magnitude of magic coursing through the ley lines around us.
His shoulders tense at my voice, bracing for what I have to say.
We’ve not been exactly seeing eye to eye for the past few weeks, and as an olive branch, I’d allowed him to lead this particular interrogation.
However, I was under the impression that would mean there would actually be an interrogation.
Sadly, if what he is doing is interrogating, I may as well resign myself to living the rest of my life in this spot until I shrivel up and turn to dust.
“You said you would let me handle this.” He grumbles, keeping his voice hushed.
“That’s when I thought this would take an hour or two. You’re taking too long, and nothing he’s said has been of any value.”
Will’s sighs echo off the dank walls. “Because you keep interrupting and losing your temper.”
Ha. “Fine. I’ll see myself out then.” He gives me a noncommittal noise in response, and I turn sharply on my heel, needing a breather from the stuffy structure we’d holed ourselves up in.
To my not-so-surprise, when I step outside, I find it’s raining. It’s rained every fucking day since we set foot in Sorrel.
Where Obsidian is grim in an ominous and haunting manner, its eastern neighbor is grim in a sluggish way. Plagued with the type of weather that has you never wanting to get out of bed. Though I guess I don’t know what I expected from the kingdom that’s home to Weather Wielders.
I drop my head back against the structure, the dampness of it soaking through to my scalp, sending a chill down my spine.
I push on the space where the tether to her mind used to be, and dread pools in my stomach as I, again, am met with only emptiness and the desperate thought that I won’t ever bring her home.
And right now – I’m starting to believe I won’t.
It took Will an agonizing amount of time to finally humble himself and let me handle the man.
After some persuading, I managed to get out of him that he’d “seen an oddly matched couple wandering into an inn while selling in the markets of Sira”. It wasn’t much – but it was enough for me to extend him a more merciful exit out of this world than the others have gotten.
“Thank you for that.” I grunt, my knife slicing quickly along his carotid. His body spasms, choking on the blood filling the back of his throat.
Bennett lurks over in the corner, waiting for me to flick my fingers and signal for him to handle the remains.
After a few seconds, the man’s body stills, and I stalk outside.
Will is waiting off to the side, his head down, rubbing a hand roughly against his chin – his form and the heavy focus in his stare are more evidence that he is only tentatively in my corner these days.
“He mentioned Sira. We need to speak with Max once Bennett’s done, make the arrangements.
” Will scoffs, his scowl deepening. “Have something to say? Or argue, Will?” I add, unable to control the sarcasm in my tone.
He shakes his head, dismissing the question.
“No, really, you’ve had so much to say these past few weeks.
Months really. Why stay quiet now?” I snap.
Will’s eyes lift to mine, anger brimming behind them when he notices the blood spattered on me. “Is this really the effect she has on you? Her hooks are in you so deep?” He sneers, gesturing towards and down my body as he pushes off the tree trunk. “You’re killing people. Innocent people–”
“They’re not innocent,” I interject.
“The man gave us the name of a city. A fucking city Ror – and you still killed him. It’s not like he aided Ezra – if that’s even who has her!”
My muscles tense at the utterance of Ezra’s name, red creeping across my vision. “I owe it to her men. To Obsidian – a kingdom I now preside over – to find and bring her home.”
“Why?”
“Why?” I repeat, stifling the incredulous laugh in my chest.
He nods. “Why? Why can’t you just do the sensible thing at this point? You’re a fugitive of Vellar. A disgraced prince.”
“Please name more of my disappointing accolades.”
Will rolls his eyes back, continuing his rant without missing a beat, “you could do anything you fucking wanted. Why does it have to be this?”
“Because she’s my wife.” The answer comes out surprisingly easily.
With how red his face turns, it looks like steam might blow out of his nose and ears. “SHE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW THAT!”
Frustration builds inside me, and I take a step towards him, my hand finding the hilt of my dagger. Before either of us can say or do anything else regrettable, the sound of wet leaves crumpling behind us drags our attention away from each other.
Bennett stands in the shadows, his face hard to read from the lack of light, but the rigid posture tells me enough. He’s grown tired of Will and I’s persistent bickering. Though I’d wager we are all tired of Will and me bickering.
“It’s taken care of.”
I give him a curt dip of my chin, “we need to speak with Max.”
“Pfft. Good luck. Millie damn near took off my bloody head the last time I tried talking to him.” Bennett grumbles.
I understand. I think to myself, the three of us turning to trek back towards Max’s family manor. I feel like taking everyone’s heads off these days, too.
“Come on, Millie.” Bennett tries.
She stands in the doorway, blocking it so that we can’t pass through. She’d already slammed the door in my face once today, when we first came back to the house, refusing to speak with me until I “cleaned up”.
But now, despite my being significantly less bloody, she’s being just as stubborn.
“We need to form a plan,” Will adds, but she shakes her head, blonde curls bouncing with the motion.
“Form it yourselves and let us know in the morning. He doesn’t want to speak with anyone.”
Bennett sighs, “he never wants to speak to anyone, but he’s going to have to talk to us at some point.” A frown settles on her features as she steps out of the doorway, clicking it shut quietly behind her.
We each take a step back and watch her place her hands sternly on her hips.
“All of you listen to me now. Max is barely letting me around him behind closed doors. Every day is an effort for him right now, and you three? Coming in here and demanding more isn’t helping.
” Her voice is hard, and I can tell she has little desire to argue or expound on what she’s trying to share with us.
“We know that he lost someone, Mil. We all lost something that day…” Bennett adds quietly, but by the way her face screws up, it was the wrong thing to add.
“You did not have to kill your brother.” She hisses, her bright green irises flashing.
“As far as I can tell, your brothers are still here standing beside you, and you’re all taking fucking advantage of it.
” With her left hand, she reaches behind her, opening the door back up.
“Let us know in the morning what the plan is. Do not knock again tonight.”
The door slams in her wake, and not one of us moves, the silence settling around us thickly.
After an awkwardly long time, Will clears his throat, disrupting the tension and giving Bennett the excuse to turn on his heel. He mutters an “I told you” while heading off in the direction of our shared quarters, Will following quickly behind him.
I stay – lingering a little longer and debating whether or not I want to defy her demand.
A sharp gasp draws my attention, and in my peripheral view, an attendant of the house scrambles around the corner. We’ve kept mostly to ourselves the days we’ve been here, coming and going quietly, but it’s obvious our arrival has… unsettled those already living in the house.
Begrudgingly, I turn on my heel and follow after my men.
I find them both sitting tensely in the small reception room. For our sleeping arrangements – Will’s taken to the couch, me the bed, and Bennett's on the bench against the window. It’s not the most ideal setup, but we couldn’t exactly expect the same living quarters we’ve been used to.
“We still need to make a plan,” I say, shutting the door behind me. “Bennett? Grab the map.”
He nods, retrieving it from his bags and spreading the marked-up parchment out on the small table. We all kneel around it, my finger dragging from where we are in Mael to where we need to be in Sira.
“It’s going to be at least a day’s ride.” Will murmurs.
“If that’s the case, we’ll need to leave early in the morning. No telling how far behind we are already.”
A sardonic laugh rumbles from Will – and Bennett, and I both lift our heads to look at him.
“Do we even know where we’re going once we get there? Do we have the name of another unfortunate individual? Or are we going to just start sacking whole cities when we don’t find out what we want?”
“Will–” Bennett starts, his tone urgent, but I cut him off.
“No, I don’t have the name of a person this time. He mentioned an inn. I figured we would check every single one. Give descriptions.”
His brows furrow in doubt, “and if they know nothing? If not a single person in the damn capital knows anything, what then?”
I have no fucking clue. I want to say, but instead I snap, “are we done with you arguing my choices?” He doesn’t answer, scowling at me while I fold up the map and shove it back towards Bennett.
Pushing up from the floor, I take myself over to the bed and collapse onto it, choosing to ignore them for the rest of the night.
It’s when I can feel the comfort of sleep drifting over me that I hear Will whisper off in his corner, “not until you start making some bloody fucking sense,” followed by quiet shuffles of movement and soft snores.
“Princeling…” My senses flare to life at the voice. “Princeeeelinggggg…” the soft coo sounding in my ear, warmth coasting over my skin.
My eyelids flutter open, and I have to blink a few times before the face matching the voice comes into view.
She lies across from me, her bronzed skin and dark hair a stark contrast to the white sheets she’s sprawled out on. Her curls are spread around her shoulders, and the sheets are pulled up to her collarbone.
“Nightmare…” I breathe, the pressure that’s been sitting on my chest relieving almost instantly.
“Finally. He wakes. I thought I might have to call a coroner.” She sounds the lightest I’ve ever heard her, those two gold eyes glinting with mirth at her joke.
My hand reaches across the small gap between us, and carefully I brush back a stray curl that’s fallen into her face. “You’re here,” I say, and confusion etches across her face. “You’re okay…” My palm settles against her cold cheek, her lips tipping up at the subtle touch.
“I’m okay. You found me.”
Her body wiggles to me, and nimble fingers find my ribcage. Involuntarily, I shiver under her icy touch, the tip of her pointer finger drawing lazy circles against my skin. I search her face, committing every feature to memory while I melt into her touch.
“How did I find you?” I ask, the memory of it absent. Confusion again crosses her features, and her mouth drops open to answer.
“Uhm–” she starts and quickly stops, lips curving back up into her rare soft smile, “I’m okay, you found me.” She repeats.
The relief I had just been feeling starts to fade, dread taking its place. Her finger stills, and the edges around where she’s curled up start to blur. I rub my eyes, trying to keep her face and that smile clear, but every time I open them back up, she grows a little blurrier.
“You’re not real,” I admit, the words crashing into me at full force, knocking that renewed breath right out of my chest. “I still haven’t found you…”