Chapter 15 #2
He cocked his head at her, raising a brow. “Do you? She tried to kill your precious princess.”
“She—” Soren cut herself off, remembering whose side Vane was on. She lowered her head, a familiar submission settling over her. Her shoulders curved in, the ache there a welcome home to the last decade and a half of her life.
“Of course. I am glad the princess is safe.”
Vane didn’t reply, and she didn’t look at him, not until cold, sharp metal prodded at her chin. She tensed, lifting her head. He had the tip of the dagger nearly at her throat, forcing her to meet his eyes as he said in a low voice, “Don’t.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, swallowing against the tightness in her esophagus.
His nostrils flared in time with his jaw tensing. “You hold power over them now, Soren. You must know that. Don’t let it go to waste by letting them mold you any further than they already have.”
“The king controls us all,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Anything beyond that reality is a dream.”
He paused. “A good dream?”
“Depends on who you’re asking. Aren’t you loyal to Aren? To King Johannas?”
His smile was like a wolf. “Naturally. Aren’t you?”
She opened her mouth, but he shushed her with the edge of the blade to her lips. “Don’t answer that. We need to start your training for the day.”
A small ember of hope flared in her chest, but she smothered it quickly.
It didn’t matter if Vane was loyal or a rebel sympathizer.
They were both quite obviously trapped under King Johannas’ hand.
Besides, it was entirely likely Vane was simply trying to feel her out, perhaps for the commander.
Something inherent told her she could trust him, but she could not rely on her instincts. She couldn’t trust anyone.
They began with the strengthening circuit, which wasn’t becoming any easier.
If anything, her muscles were so sore from the days prior, it hurt even more.
She ignored the pain, turning off her mind to it as she ran through the exercises.
Before they began their run, Vane slapped a bar of mashed grain and seeds into her hand, brow raised.
“So you don’t faint in my arms again,” he said dryly.
She scowled at him but scarfed down the bar anyway. After the run, she nearly threw it back up, and Vane barked at her to breathe through her nose and out her mouth. Begrudgingly, she obeyed, and, annoyingly, it helped.
“See?” he said as she straightened from where she had been kneeling. “I’m not entirely useless to you.”
“Thought it was the other way around, sir,” she gritted out.
He smirked. “Ah, there she is.”
There was something that caught her eye about his half smile. She had the urge to see what a full-fledged grin or even a laugh looked like on him, but he hadn’t done either, not since they had met. The wish was stupid anyways.
“Soren,” he ordered. “Focus.”
She blinked, her face flushing crimson when she realized she had been staring at him. Clearing her throat, she asked, “Are you finally going to teach me how to fight?”
He snorted. “Commander Eton wants you out there on the battlefield in two weeks’ time. Our time here is better spent getting you well-acquainted with Thessilnn and your magic.”
“And how are you going to help me on either of those fronts?”
“In another life, I was a scribe’s apprentice,” he replied smoothly. “My master specialized in the history of the gods as well as magic manifesting in mortals.”
“I see,” she said slowly. His words felt like a lie, and she entirely wasn’t sure why. “And what about Thessa?”
He raised a brow. “She lets you call her that?”
Soren frowned. “I think she prefers it.”
“She most definitely does not,” Vane said, his brow creased. “She must… Well, she must really like you.”
Soren shrugged. “I can already speak with her, which isn’t normal, evidently.”
“Mm.” Vane wasn’t looking at her anymore. He was flipping the dagger around in his hand, his eyes wandering to the horizon where the mountains met the sky. The strong column of his throat worked, and he almost seemed to be collecting himself.
“It’s time for the midday meal,” she said, chewing on her lip.
His chest expanded under the leather armor. “You won’t be joining the other riders, not for the rest of your training.”
“For my safety or theirs?”
Vane swept past her, and with little choice, she followed him. She caught him muttering, “Can it not be both?”
She did not reply, instead falling silent as he led her away from camp to the edge of the field, where Thessa awaited them.
Soren glanced at the dragon. “What about the meal—”
Vane threw another bar at her, and she shut her mouth as she took it, sighing internally. The bars were bland at best, if not bitter.
“Enjoy it,” Vane said, walking towards Thessa and undoubtedly catching on to her disappointment. “Your rations out there in the true war camps will be few and far between and not always as hearty as this.”
Soren resisted the childish urge to scream at the sky. She had not asked for any of this, had not even wanted to go with Princess Cion to the Choosing ceremony in the first place.
I weep for you.
Soren looked up at Thessa—the dragon would be raising her eyebrows if she had them, though her attention quickly shifted to Vane.
Please don’t burn him to a crisp, Soren thought. Or do, but then I might be killed too.
Thessa made a chuffing sound, and Vane reached out a hand.
“I wouldn’t—”
But Soren shut her mouth as Thessa nuzzled against Vane’s hand, her eyes shutting.
“Unfortunately for you and your plans, Thessilnn and I are previously acquainted. It would take a lot for her to kill me,” Vane said.
His mouth was curved into a small smile, but there was no humor or joy on his face.
Only pain.
How do you know him?
Thessa opened her eyes and looked straight at Soren but did not reply. She opened her mouth to try asking Vane too, but—
Wind whipped through her hair, her palms pressed against smooth scales. Ahead, someone laughed, the sound nearly lost to the currents of the sky.
“Don’t fall off!”
Another laugh. “You’d catch me,” he called.
“Not up to me!”
“Thessilnn wouldn’t dare.”
He turned to look at the pale dragon beneath her and—
Soren gasped softly. She was on the ground, her head in someone’s lap. Blinking rapidly, she tried to hold on to what she had just seen. The dreams always faded quickly, but perhaps this close to waking, she could finally see his face…
“Soren.”
She jolted as Vane’s form blocked out the weak beam of sunlight peeking through the cloud cover. Strands of his dark hair fell forward, his mouth pinched with worry. She met his eyes, and a shudder ran up her spine.
But she merely sat up, scooting away from him and saying in a voice that was too bright, “Guess your gruel bars aren’t enough to keep me from passing out.”
Standing, she ignored the lightness in her head, turning away from him as she collected herself and rationalized her thoughts.
She had finally seen the man’s face. The rest of the vision had faded away at the edges, too blurry for her to grasp anymore, but she couldn’t forget him.
He stood just behind her.