Chapter 49 – Rowan
ROWAN
We take breakfast to go.
Hari presses warm egg sandwiches into our hands, along with small satchels of bread, dried meat, and fruit. Reluctant to leave the warmth of the inn, I murmur a quiet thank you. The storm is over, but it’s left behind a raw and bitter cold.
Ayer says little, just nods his thanks, already focused on the road ahead.
I notice, though, just before we leave, he drops a few extra coins onto Hari’s desk.
The crisp autumn air bites my cheeks, and I scrunch up my nose. I’m so thankful for the cloak Hari was also kind enough to supply.
Ayer’s already moving, setting a blistering pace as we follow the river back upstream. It’s clear he’s dead set on making up as much ground as possible, moving like he’s trying to outrun something, or maybe just trying to get through as much of the woods as possible before nightfall.
We travel in silence. Nearly half the day goes by without either of us uttering a single word.
The road we’re on winds us closer to the river; I can see and hear the rough rapids through the trees on our side.
Gods. I can’t believe I survived that. The water is angry, white foam exploding out from where it crashes over jagged rocks and fallen trees.
Dark currents swirling and twisting, like the one that almost swallowed me whole.
I shake my head, trying to block out the near-constant roar.
As the sun begins to set, I’m glad when I stumble across a berry bush. My stomach growls at the mere sight of them. I gather a handful, hesitating before picking off a few more.
I glance up, finding Ayer waiting, his eyes on me. I rise to my feet, pushing back my shoulders as I walk toward him, and give him some of my berries before he has a chance to refuse. He lifts his palm to his nose to take a whiff, eyeing the little blue berries as if I had just handed him poison.
I roll my eyes, reaching over and grabbing a berry out of his palm, then pop it into my own mouth with a dramatic show. I shoot him a look and turn away, focused on eating the rest of my own berries.
But out of the corner of my eye, I spy him finally toss the berries into his mouth.
The corner of my lip twitches.
The silence that follows isn’t as sharp as before.
Ayer finally relents after the last of the sunlight fades away, and we finally stop to rest.
I sit against a fallen log, my feet propped up on a rock, running my finger along the edge of my dagger. I used a small stone earlier to sharpen it while we walked.
Ayer lit a fire, and he’s preoccupied with roasting the rabbit he shot earlier with his bow.
“We’ll reach the fort in a few hours,” he says at some point, breaking the tense silence between us.
The fort.
I don’t respond, really having nothing to say to that. Whatever “the fort” is, it won’t be great for me.
A tingle runs over my skin, and I glance up from my blade to find his eyes on me. Again.
The moment my eyes meet his, he drops them, focusing back on the spit he’d fashioned in order to roast the meat.
I sigh, putting my knife away through the slit in my skirt.
“Why do you do that?”
Ayer looks up from his task. “Do what?”
“You’re always watching me.”
“I am not.”
“Every time I look up, your eyes are on me.”
“It’s my job to watch you.”
“I thought you weren’t watching me?”
His jaw ticks, and I feel a smirk play on my lips at the small victory.
“Mmm,” I hum eyeing him. “Well, you take your job seriously.”
Still nothing.
I tilt my head, studying him now.
“If the captain of the Kovarian army has to keep watch himself, I must be very dangerous.” A question lingers within my words.
One that’s haunted me for days. Why me? Why keep me alive?
Surely it would’ve been just as satisfying to kill me and rub it in my brother’s face, if that’s what they’re really after.
And why did Theo give me to Ayer? At first, I thought it was for another reason…
but Ayer appears to have no interest in touching me.
His exhale is quiet, but I hear it. “Theo wants you alive.”
Our eyes meet.
“To what end?” I ask.
He shakes his head once. “I don’t know.”
I believe him. It had been Theo’s order that kept me alive. And Ayer’s made it clear from the start, he would’ve preferred me dead.
“You two seem close.”
He dips his chin slightly.
“Closer than most…” I press harder.
He studies me right back. “You’re observant.”
“You learn a lot when you’re quiet.” I flash him my best court smile.
The corner of his lip ticks up in response to mine. “Clever, too.”
I open my mouth to respond but snap it shut when every muscle in Ayer’s body tenses, a frown replacing that small smile. He whisks a finger over his lips while slowly reaching for the bow that’s resting a few feet away.
My hand flies to my dagger, my heart pounding as my mind conjures up imaginings of monsters that I pray to the gods are far worse than whatever’s actually lurking in those woods.
Ayer draws an arrow from his quiver, nocking it onto his bow, and waits.
Sweat coats the palms of my hands as I scan the tree line, searching for any sign of movement.
Ayer’s listening intently. To what? I don’t know; I hear nothing. He’s so still, his eyes trained down at the dirt, listening… waiting.
I nearly jump out of my skin when he moves. In one fluid motion, he spins, releasing the string of his bow. The arrow flies—and a rabbit drops from the brush with a soft thud.
And just like that, the brief truce formed between us breaks with the sharp reminder of what he is: dangerous, lethal, and the man holding me captive.
Silence falls, once again hanging between us like a knife. Ayer’s busying himself preparing his new quarry for the spit, and I turn so that my back is to him, looking instead at the night sky above. Clouds cover most of it, only the light from a few stubborn stars breaking through.
“Eat.”
I flinch at the sudden closeness of his voice, having not heard him approach. Startled, I look up and realize he’s offering me some of the meat he cooked over the fire. I accept it without a word.
I take a cautious bite. It’s not—it’s not terrible. Perhaps an acquired taste. I eat quietly, but after a while, I find my eyes drifting back to him, despite myself.
“Have you always hated the fae?” I ask. The question spills out before I can stop it.
He doesn’t hesitate with his answer. “Yes.”
“Oh,” is all I say, looking away.
He sighs. “Many villages, especially those on the border, face the same threat. Year after year, the fae raid. They come, they steal, they kill. People disappear in the night.” He shakes his head as if to clear away dark memories playing behind his eyes.
“You won’t find many humans who feel anything but hatred for the fae. ”
I frown. “Then why continue with these senseless border battles? If you would only stop attacking—”
“Attacking?” Ayer’s words are sharp, and there’s a new, dangerous gleam in his eyes.
“Are we attacking when the fae come on our lands, take our food, our crops, our people?” My chest tightens.
“Are we attacking when they come in the night and burn an entire village to the ground, just because they can?”
“That’s not true,” I say quickly, shaking my head vehemently.
“It is true,” he growls. “I’ve seen it. With my own eyes.”
“You’re a cynic.”
“And you’re naive.”
My cheeks heat.
“Better yet,” he continues, his voice dropping into a lower, menacing tone, “I’ve lived it. Are you really going to tell me what happens on a border you’ve never seen?”
I open my mouth—
“The fae killed my father. My brother. They set our home on fire with my mother and little sister still inside. And my best friend, Ridge…” He trails off, his jaw tightening along with his fist at his side.
My heart clenches.
“Raiders…” I start, but Ayer rises to his feet, cutting me off.
“They weren’t raiders, and they weren’t wild fae. They were soldiers from Sitara.” He glares down hard at me. “Soldiers sent on the King of Sitara’s orders.”
Stunned at his accusation, at the lie, all I can do is shake my head.
“I nearly lost everyone on your father’s orders.” There’s a sharp bite to his words.
“No, that can’t be true,” I say, but the words come out barely a whisper.
They wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Not innocents…
“You don’t know anything, Princess.”