6. Chapter Six
Chapter Six
“ B ladesinger,” a voice says, rousing me from sleep.
My eyes flash open, my hand automatically reaching under my thin, feather-filled pillow for a dagger that isn’t there.
Kneeling by my bedroll, Asheros’s gaze follows my hand. When I turn up empty, his focus slides back to my own. “I hate to cut your beauty sleep short,” he says, still eyeing me carefully, “but alas, you can’t sleep forever.”
I’m too focused on wondering what’s going on to acknowledge his remark.
“What’s happening?” I ask, my tone wary.
“Nothing,” he says smoothly. “We’re leaving.” He arches a brow, a playful lilt to his voice. “Or did you think we’d be camping in this forest forever?”
“Leaving?” Suspicion sets in, unease gripping my throat. All the unknowns set me on high alert. “Leaving for where?”
His expression softens. As if to ease the tension gathering in my shoulders, he places a palm on my upper arm. “Somewhere you’ll be more comfortable. No harm will come to you there, Bladesinger. You have my word.”
“Why should I believe you?” I hiss, recoiling from his touch. “You’re the one holding me against my will with a troilite cuff on my wrist. How do I know you’re not lying to get me to cooperate?”
Asheros’s crystal eyes flare like I’ve offended him somehow. “I may be many things, Bladesinger, but I am a male of my word. When I tell you you’re safe, I mean it. Regardless of the circumstances.”
I struggle to reconcile Asheros’s actions with his words. He’s my kidnapper, but he speaks freely with me as if I’m a traveling companion and not his prisoner. He ordered the ambush that killed my guards, but he tells me that I’m safe with him. He’s my fated, but he wants me to believe that my death won’t be at his hands.
How can all of these things be true?
Hardening my jaw, I turn my face from his.
Asheros stands, hand outstretched. I stare at it for a moment, debating whether to accept his help. In the end, I take his hand and allow him to pull me to my feet. We stride to the tent’s entrance. Asheros holds up the flap, a hand to the small of my back guiding me through. Then he emerges after me, letting the tent’s opening close when he does.
Outside, I see that Savell and Ronan’s tent is already deconstructed, and Kheldryn and Gryska are nearly finished taking down theirs.
“All set?” Savell asks Asheros, rubbing his palms together.
“Yes.” Asheros nods.
Savell dips his head in response, and then motions to the tent. Ronan receives his message, and heads to the opposite end of the tent from Savell.
Once her and Gryska’s tent is secured to one of the horses, Kheldryn pours a bucket of water over the still-glowing embers that once made up the campfire.
“Come,” Asheros says, leading me to the horses secured to a tree trunk.
“What about the others?” I ask. “They’re still packing.”
“They’ll be finished momentarily,” Asheros says casually. “They won’t be far behind us.”
Narrowing my eyes, I hold his stare. He wants us—specifically me —to keep moving. He must know something he isn’t sharing. And if he wants us to keep moving, then I’ll want to do everything in my power to stall.
“Are you sure?” I ask. “What if we get separated?”
Asheros mirrors my expression. “I wouldn’t worry about that. They can handle themselves.” He takes a step forward, tilting his head down to look into my eyes. His own go dark, gleaming with challenge. “Nervous about being alone with me, Bladesinger?”
“You wish,” I counter, hardening my expression.
“That’s what I thought,” Asheros says. I can’t help but feel like whatever this is between us, he’s won this round.
I glower at him, making no effort to hide my disdain.
Patting one of the horses, he grins in return. The horse’s coat is a shiny, mahogany color, with a thick, beautiful mane.
I grip the saddle and hoist myself up. The troilite makes it more difficult than it should be. After detaching the reins from the tree trunk, Asheros swiftly lifts himself up onto the horse’s back. Settling into place behind me, he takes the reins, both of his arms extended around me.
“I can ride perfectly well on my own,” I tell him, a bitter edge to my tone.
“Oh, I’m sure you can.” The warmth of his body dances across my skin. He gives the reins a flick, and the horse begins to trot forward. “That’s precisely why it would be so foolish of me to let you ride alone, even with the troilite dampening your strength. Do you really think so little of my intellect, Bladesinger?”
“You haven’t exactly given me anything that would make me think more highly of you,” I say bluntly.
“Mmm,” he muses, as if he’s pondering the thought. “Then I’ll have to remedy that. ”
I snort. “Good luck.” I doubt anything he could do now would improve my disposition toward him.
“So quick to condemn me.” There’s a glimmer of disappointment in his voice. “Do you not believe in redemption?”
“You seem to be forgetting you drugged me on the day of the ambush.” I can’t see him, but I can practically imagine the straight expression playing at his mouth. “How did you even manage to do it?”
Traveling through the city for most of the journey, it had taken about a day and a half’s ride to reach Nemos’s Pass. Whatever herb he’d used to drug me had only started to take effect upon our approach.
“Your rations,” he replies. Yet again, his willingness to speak freely surprises me. “And I may have encouraged Viridian to provide you with a carriage at our last council meeting.”
The day I left rushes to the forefront of my mind. Before his death, High King Vorr had ordered that no one come or go from High Keep. In support of their search for Vorr’s murderer, Cryssa and Viridian hadn’t lifted the command until two days before their coronation.
After I’d already gone.
Asheros—and the other Heads of House and heir-apparents, including my mother and sister—had been at High Keep, awaiting the coronation. He must have laced my rations the morning I left, and bid Savell, Ronan, and the others to pursue me, ordering them to strike when I reached Nemos’s Pass. Despite the lockdown on High Keep, he somehow sent word to them in the days leading up to my departure. And he must have known that riding in the carriage would further dull my senses, stopping me from detecting his attackers until it was too late to stop the ambush.
“You bastard,” I shoot out, my voice curt.
Though he tries to recover quickly, I feel him flinch.
His response stings.
“Why go through this effort?” I ask, trying to brush the feeling away. “What do you need me for?”
For a moment, I think he’ll answer me. But he doesn’t. I feel him stiffen behind me. The movement puffs out his chest, making it brush against my shoulder blades. I expect him to lean back so we don’t touch, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans into me, inhaling deeply, as if he’s breathing me in.
“If I tell you that, Bladesinger,” he purrs, bringing his mouth to my ear, sending blissful shivers down my spine, “you’ll ruin my plans.”
“Maybe they need to be ruined.” I swallow and try to keep my eyes and ears open to our surroundings. Anything to take my mind off how close he is to me.
And how much I like it.
Images of him pressing his lips to my neck flash before my eyes. My eyelids flutter, and I let out a shaky exhale. Ceren’s lesson cuts through my dirty imaginings.
“Don’t lose focus. ”
I shake my head a little, as if to brush away the thoughts.
Asheros draws his head back and straightens his posture. He tightens his grip on the horse’s reins, his firm arms caging me, keeping me in place from behind. At a calm pace, he maneuvers us through the forest until we reach a dirt road.
I keep my eyes trained ahead. It takes more effort than I’d like to admit not to reach behind me and push his face back to my neck.
I exhale through clenched teeth.
Asheros is silent, the even pace of his breath the only sound he makes.
Then I hear something. My body goes still, and I cock my head to listen. Asheros does the same.
Up ahead, hooves pound on the dirt.
Horses.
Someone’s coming this way.
Tugging the reins, Asheros quickly steers us away from the road. The horse obeys, quickening its pace to a canter. We weave through trees, not stopping until we’re a considerable distance from the road, though it’s still in sight.
“What—”
My words are cut off by Asheros’s hand over my mouth. We dismount, and with one hand gripping my face, and the other wrapped across my abdomen, he pulls me to his chest. Moving so quickly that he’s practically falling backward, he slams his body against the nearest tree trunk. I feel him tilt his head back against the bark, and he slows his breathing until it’s barely audible.
Darkness seems to seep out from Asheros’s feet, clawing at the ground before us. Then it curves upward, the shadows reaching and stretching over our heads, forming a protective barrier around us until they swallow us whole. My vision goes darker from the absence of light, and I strain to see through the shadows. If I wasn’t restrained, I would hold out my hand to touch them.
He can conjure shadows.
I know the precious metals from each of the five Courts have their own magical abilities, with silver having the ability to conjure. But I’d never seen someone wield it before.
Until now.
Coming from the road behind us, the sound of galloping horses draws nearer, growing in volume. The clinking of metal armor and weapons meets my ears. Luckily, the shadows don’t dampen sound. Voices converse with each other, though the words are muffled by the horses’ movement. I can’t make out what they’re saying, but I’m able to pick up on the way they speak—it’s a smooth sounding dialect, with long vowels and flowing syllables.
Guards .
Those riders are guards. And judging by the way they speak, they’re native to this region.
My first instinct is to assume they’re from my mother’s Court, but with nothing else to go on, I can’t be sure. Members of the High King’s Guard come from all over Inatia. It’s possible Viridian could have sent them, too. If I could get a look at the colors they wear, I’d be able to determine who sent them with more certainty.
But regardless of where they came, they could help me. Hell, they might even be out here searching for me.
No. Though it may have been fueled by anger, my decision from last night is a sound one. I need to assess the full extent of Asheros’s deception. If there’s a threat to Viridian and Cryssa’s rule, then I need to neutralize it. I may no longer officially hold the title of Captain of the High King’s Guard, but my duty first and foremost will always be to uphold the crown. The only way to know what’s going on here, whatever traitorous scheme Asheros could need me for, is to stay.
And if I stay, I can’t let him think I’m here willingly or he’ll grow suspicious. I’ll let him think he has me—let him think the troilite cuff and his charm is enough to trap me.
He’s been deceiving me since the moment he revealed himself, and perhaps even before that.
It’s only fair I deceive him right back.
I scream and writhe against Asheros’s grasp, seemingly aiming to make as much noise as I can. He presses his palm down harder over my mouth, drowning out my yelling. I drop to my knees, as though attempting to throw him off balance.
“Not going to work this time, Bladesinger,” he huffs.
I roll my eyes. If he bought that meager display, then this is going to be child’s play.
He clings to me tighter when I go limp in his arms. Steadying himself against the tree trunk for support, he uses his body weight to keep me in place.
Asheros lets out a strained breath, and his shadows stretch a few feet beyond us to cloak our horse.
The voices get louder.
“Did you hear something?” a male asks.
“No,” another replies. A pause. “What did you hear?”
“I’m not sure,” the first guard says. “Perhaps it was an animal.”
“Over here,” I try to shout half-heartedly. “Help me!”
My words become nothing more than a garbled mess, caught in Asheros’s hand and his shadows. Wrestling with his firm hold on me, I throw my head back. I have to make this look realistic, after all, or he’ll question my motives. My skull collides with something—something that’s not a tree.
Asheros lets out a pained grunt.
Triumph flashes through me.
“What was that?” the first guard asks. “Surely, you heard something this time.”
“I don’t know,” his companion says slowly. “But I did hear something.”
Asheros inhales and holds his breath. With one hand locked around my chest, crushing my breasts, he grips my upper arm. He drives my head back with his other hand, the one that’s still clasped over my mouth, so that my temple is pressed to his jawline. My shoulder blades bear down on the solid planes of his chest, and I make it a point to ignore how good it feels to have him this close.
Don’t lose focus.
My rear, like the rest of me, grinds against Asheros every time I pretend to struggle. I feel something harden beneath me, but I don’t stop, my breaths becoming ragged.
I can practically hear Ceren this time.
“Don’t lose focus, Lymseia.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as if that would somehow dull the heat spreading through me. I buck my hips again.
Asheros sucks in a breath, and a soft, involuntary moan slips from his lips. This time, it doesn’t sound like he’s in pain.
“See anything?” one of the guards asks.
“No,” the other answers. “You?”
“No,” the first says, though, he doesn’t sound convinced.
“Let’s move on,” the guard’s companion says. “Maybe whatever we’re hearing is headed this way.”
“All right,” the guard agrees.
I feign another scream, lost to the palm of Asheros’s hand. Cloaked in his shadows, it’s doubtful the guards would see us, even if they knew where to look.
Hooves clack on the road. They fade the farther east they go, until only the rustling of the forest surrounds us.
Asheros’s grip on me lingers. He exhales, his breath hot on my neck.
I suppress a shudder.
Then he lets me go. The shadows surrounding us recede.
I whirl around, fist raised. But before I can follow through, he catches it with one hand, touching his nose with the other.
“How did you do that?” I demand. “Conjure the shadows?”
“You’re in no position to make demands, Bladesinger.”
“As if I give a damn.”
Still clutching my fist, Asheros pulls his hand away from his face and looks at the tips of his fingers. Bright red stains them.
He snarls. “You broke my nose.”
A flicker of adrenaline sparks my combat instincts. But I don’t let it show. Instead, I snap, “It’s the least I can do.”
Asheros’s lips part into that amused half-smile. He shakes his head a little, his eyes sliding from the blood coloring his fingertips, up to my own.
I stare him down. But it only widens his grin.
“You are absolutely fearless,” he mutters, as if in awe.
“That would imply I have something to fear.” The words leave my tongue before I can stop them. Not that I want to.
“To the contrary, Bladesinger,” Asheros says, taking a step closer to me, “I think you’ve just made my point.”
I tilt my head back to keep my eyes on his, his crystalline irises bearing into mine. The intensity of his gaze makes me feel utterly exposed, like he’s seeing right through me. Though, as much as I know I should, I don’t look away.
I can’t look away.
Heat dances down my skin, intensifying the longer I hold his stare.
“They’re here!” a voice calls.
More hooves follow, coming to a stop upon approach.
Finally tearing his gaze from mine, Asheros looks past me. I hesitate for a moment, and then I turn around.
Savell reaches us first, effortlessly sliding down from his steed. Ronan, Kheldryn, Gryska, and Orim trail behind him, dismounting their horses to join him.
Savell’s brow stays furrowed with worry. “What drew you off the road?”
“Illnamoorean guards,” Asheros says, a casually cool edge to his voice. As if he has everything completely under control.
But Savell doesn’t seem convinced. “How close were you to being discovered?”
Asheros gives him a relaxed shrug. “I doubt they knew we were here.”
Crossing my arms, I let out a snort. “That’s not true, and you know it.”
Savell glances at me, and then back at Asheros. “We’ll need to be cautious until we reach our destination.”
Asheros makes a point not to look at me, confusion working at his brow. “Of course,” he muses, agreeing with Savell. “Let’s not linger, then.”
Savell nods, and then re-mounts his horse. The others do the same.
Asheros takes his stallion’s reins with one hand. Giving me a mock bow of his head, he gestures to the steed with his free hand. “After you.”
I roll my eyes, but I get on.
Asheros lifts himself onto the horse’s back and sits behind me. Though he’s still close to me, given the nature of our situation, he leaves more distance between us this time.
I should be glad. Being enveloped by him was only a distraction.
But I’m not. The air between our bodies is cold compared to his warmth. And I find myself wanting it back.
Why would I crave this closeness when I’ve never needed anyone before?
Focus, Lymseia, I urge myself, purging the thought from my mind. It doesn’t matter. I won’t let myself be distracted. Especially not by a male, of all things. Ceren taught me better than that.
As if he’s somehow aware of my thoughts, Asheros takes a breath. Then, flicking the reins, he leads us out of the woods and back onto the road. Savell and the others fall in line behind us.
Asheros doesn’t speak to me as we ride. I don’t speak to him, either.
And I intend to keep it that way.