Chapter 42
Isca
As we walked toward the river, the sun melted into the horizon, turning the water into a ribbon of flame.
Clouds blushed from its descent, making the treetops burn with amber light.
The sight should’ve been beautiful, but the smell and feel of blood-soaked clothes clinging to my skin, and the lingering memory of the scout’s corpse, marred my enjoyment.
Standing at the river’s edge, I removed my shoes—which had mercifully been spared—and stepped into the shallows. Emrys’s reflection shifted in the light upstream, just far enough away to give me space. Though I wasn’t sure either of us truly wanted space anymore.
From my first step, the river’s chill cut through my skin like a million frozen blades, but I willed a spark of magic to life beneath my skin.
Its warmth rose and spread in a tide of heat that flowed over me as I walked deeper into the lazy river.
This reminded me of home, of bathing with my sisters while my brothers kept watch.
Even with all the excitement of an adventure in foreign lands, I missed them terribly.
Behind me, Catrin yawned and settled onto a dry patch of mossy earth with the ease of someone who could fall asleep mid-sentence. Her head tipped back, and her braid fell out of its pins to loll across her shoulder like a cat’s tail. She’d be snoring soon, and I envied her for it.
The water climbed past my knees, tugging at my dress. I reached under the surface and began scrubbing the blood near the hem. Like my guilt, it stubbornly resisted my efforts to wash it away.
If I hadn’t tried to steal those moments alone, would that man still be breathing? Emrys might’ve had time to plan. They could’ve taken the scout alive and questioned him. Emrys could’ve used him to bargain with Gelida.
Now the scout’s death had closed that door forever.
My selfishness hadn’t just risked my life. I’d forced Emrys to sink into his darkness when he could’ve used strategy. I’d made him a monster instead of allowing him to be a king.
Those five minutes of silence weren’t worth a life. The urge to cry was overwhelming. Sinking into the water would cover my tears, but weeping couldn’t undo my mistake. I simply had to do better.
Upstream, Emrys quietly entered the river. The setting sun highlighted his dark features with copper and gold. He was already waist deep when he finally turned to look at me.
“How are you faring with the cold?” he asked, voice rough.
“I’m cheating with a heating charm,” I said, forcing a small smile. “We used them all the time in Caervorn. The river never ran warm, even in summer, and we couldn’t afford the baths.”
He let out a quiet sound of disapproval before settling on saying, “Resourceful.”
“Necessary,” I said, shrugging. I brushed the unidentified flecks of gore from my skirts with trembling hands, the cold water doing little to ease the lingering horror.
I rambled to get my mind off the work. “I insisted they use some of the money I left behind so my little brother could enjoy warm baths. City life doesn’t much agree with Tegil.
He prefers plants to most people. I think he’d be happier in the countryside. ”
“Not a soldier, then.”
“He has two sides. One, too soft, and the other likes to pick fights. I’ve always tried to be the shield between him and the worst parts of this world, but he seems determined to face them down himself.
My other brothers have the…privilege of being soldiers.
They work for a lord in Larethia, actually.
They send coin when they can, but their pay isn’t high because they’re not Assembly-trained mages. ”
Emrys gave a small grunt that might’ve been amusement at my obvious sarcasm at the privilege of being a soldier. He dipped beneath the surface, soaking his hair, then emerged and began working his tunic up over his head beneath the water.
I looked away to give him privacy, but not before I glimpsed a long, pink scar that stretched the length of his ribs down his back.
I’d seen the crisscrossing of marks on his forearms, but from where I stood, I couldn’t tell if the rest of his body bore a similar history.
It wasn’t fresh, but even that glance made me ache for the pain it must’ve caused him.
Who had he saved, or what had he lost, for a blade to have come that close to his heart? It was easy to forget the cost of power when the man bearing it never complained.
Since I was deep enough for modesty, I removed my overdress and focused on scrubbing the neckline. “My mother is a mage, an empath like me. My father was a guard for the Assembly,” I said, quieter now. “He was respected. Lost a leg in an accident at the keep. That’s why he retired.”
Emrys turned slightly toward me again. “Difficult.”
“It was,” I said. “He used to be very skilled with the sword, so it crushed him not to be able to fight anymore. But my being offered an opportunity to work for the Assembly gave him hope that my future might be better.”
“You care for your family?”
“Very much.” It wasn’t my parents’ fault that love had gifted them too many mouths to feed in a city that rejected their relationship. It wasn’t their fault that my sister’s farm had fallen on hard times or that none of us had been offered proper training so we could earn at our full potential.
I ran my fingers through my hair, ducking my head beneath the water to rinse it clean. When I emerged, I asked him, “What about your parents?”
He was quiet for a moment as the current eddied gently around us. “My mother died shortly after our birth from a fever. Bronwyn’s while we were teens. And Euros passed a few years ago,” he said after a moment.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly.
“Don’t be.” His eyes flicked toward me, unreadable. “Euros and I had a contentious relationship, and we never knew our mother. Though she was said to have been a wonderful woman.”
I could feel his attention flick to the jewelry I hadn’t taken off, even for this. I’d picked up on undercurrents of discord between the twins and their father from chatter amongst the nobles at the festival, but it wasn’t my place to pry.
“After meeting Sabha, I’m guessing she elbowed her way into your hearts?”
“Can’t deny her easily.” His tone held the smile I couldn’t see while he was turned away from me.
I let the silence settle again. The sky slowly turned violet as we both kept scrubbing, soap in hand. Then Catrin let out a snore so loud that a frog leaped from the riverbank in protest.
“She’ll be mortified.” I laughed before I could stop myself. “Let’s pretend it never happened. She’s lucky no one recognizes it as her snoring amongst all the others in the camp.”
Emrys turned and raised an eyebrow. My heart skipped a beat as his eyes traced a path over me, searing my skin on their journey.
I cleared my suddenly parched throat. “We should probably get out before she starts sleep-talking again.”
“About that soldier she’s had an eye on?” he asked lightly, watching me over his shoulder.
Heat rushed to my face. “I never said that.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. It was the kind of smile that said he liked seeing me blush.
He began making his way to shore wearing only his trousers. I should’ve looked away, but I couldn’t. In the fading light, his body was power and scars, carved muscle and strength, all held together by an otherworldly willpower I’d experienced firsthand.
I followed slowly, wringing water from my sleeves along the way so I’d be at least partially dry before I made it to shore. Before I could get close enough to truly admire him, he’d already changed into a fresh, dry shirt.
Emrys grabbed one of the towels next to Catrin. Turning his broad back to me, he methodically dried his hair and face as he moved upriver again. When I reached the shore, Catrin stirred but didn’t wake, mumbling something about “pauldrons” before turning over on her mossy bed.
Emrys hissed, “Catch.” His boyish grin seemed to push back the encroaching shadows of night. A towel propelled by magic came flying my way.
I caught it, but only just. I started working at my hair with the towel as I stepped onto the bank. The stones beneath my feet were slick with silt. My balance shifted. I dropped the towel so I could catch myself before I fell. But before I could even try, Emrys was pulling me up.
My heart was pounding. How did he get here so quickly?
My sodden underdress had molded itself to my skin, and without the towel to shield me, my breasts and hips were on full display under the thin, clinging material.
Though he released me quickly, his eyes did all the exploring his hands had not. I didn’t think he knew he was doing it. I briefly considered what he saw—did he want it or was he afraid of wanting it? Gods help me, I felt both ways about him.
I was still smiling when he finally tore his eyes away.
He turned to Catrin. There was a grin in his voice, while his tone was set to startle. “Wake up! Sabha would beat you with a wooden spoon for falling asleep while attending to your lady!”
Catrin snorted awake. “Mmh? What—? Oh, gods, I did it again?”
“You did,” I said, suppressing laughter.
The smirk Catrin wore proved that she knew that neither of us were sincerely upset. She rose and rushed toward me with a second towel, holding it up like a screen. “Let’s get you dressed in dry clothes before you freeze.”
“Or scandalize a prince,” Emrys called out as he stepped away, back turned.
“Impossible,” Catrin quipped. “You’re a lost cause.”
“True,” he replied, his voice a blend of sadness and a new lightness.
Behind the towel, I dressed as quickly as possible, trying not to think about the press of Emrys’s eyes on my body. Or the way his voice had changed when he’d asked about the cold. Or the way I felt every time his magic brushed the edges of mine like they were two halves of a whole.
We returned to the camp in time for dinner. Since I hadn’t been able to cook, one of the soldiers had taken over the job. The food was edible, but I’d insist on taking over for the rest of the campaign to avoid another bland meal.
The campfire cast long shadows across Emrys’s tent as I stepped into it after dinner. My damp hair was freezing in the night air, but inside it was pleasantly warm. The faint, magical tingle was all it took for me to know Emrys had heated it for my arrival.
He’d asked me to speak with him in private, but what I saw now worried me. He stood at the center, body a coil of tension, mental walls back up. His inability to meet my gaze and clenched jaw suggested something was wrong.
“I received word from Gelida,” he eventually said, his voice kept low against any ears that might be open nearby. “Their general has offered parley. I’ll ride ahead of the procession when we reach the border and head out to meet him.”
Without a word, I reached for his hands. It was an instinctive gesture of comfort, given freely—one I probably should’ve thought about before offering so casually to a ruling monarch. But it was hard for me not to be impulsive when it came to showing him affection.
He took my hands without a second of hesitation.
“You want to stop the war before it starts,” I murmured, looking up at him.
He nodded once, face unreadable. “I have to try.”
Then came a pause. The moment felt like we were poised on the edge of something vast. He turned his entire attention toward me, his blue eyes showing an unusual uncertainty before he asked, “Will you stay with me?”
I blinked. “Of course, I’ll ride out with you—”
“No.” His interruption was soft but immediate. His eyes bored into mine, shedding layers of emotional armor for stark honesty. Still, the next came out as a growl. “I want you nowhere near that man. There’s too much history between him and my family to risk you.”
I tilted my head, confusion flickering. “Then what—?”
“I meant…tonight and tomorrow. In here.” Then the words spilled out of him like they were something he’d been holding back all day.
“I’m not asking for more than your presence.
Just…stay. Catrin won’t say a word. The men won’t see.
I… You keep me calm, and I cannot afford to lose myself to the curse when so many lives are at stake. ”
For a moment, I didn’t breathe from the shock of it. Emrys was the one who always withdrew, always hid behind duty and distance. Hearing him ask for my presence felt like the ground shifting beneath us.
And the fact that he was thinking about my reputation, of all things, made something warm grow in my chest. That part of it didn’t bother me—I’d already barged into his tent half-dressed—but I did appreciate his concern for my image if we were discovered.
He asked me to stay with him without expecting anything or applying pressure, just offering an explanation.
My answer came easily. “Of course, Emrys.”
His eyes searched mine as if he didn’t quite trust his hearing.
I didn’t know if my presence would soothe the curse or make it worse. All I knew was that he wanted me close. And I… I wanted that too.
“So,” he said gently, lips curling up into a smile, “no more ‘Lord Prince’ Emrys?”
“I think we’re past that.”
His eyes wide with shock said everything his emotional walls wouldn’t let me know. He looked like a man undone by a simple kindness. Maybe it was gratitude I saw there. Maybe hope or even longing, though I might’ve simply wanted that last from him. Or maybe it was all of them tangled together.
I wasn’t na?ve enough to think that a prince’s life was easy just because he didn’t have to scrape himself to the bone for his next meal.
Emrys likely hadn’t known a simple existence since he was very young.
He’d always carried the weight of his title, the command and heavy expectations it brought.
Then, on top of everything else, he carried the extra weight of his curse, a crushing burden adding to his already long list of obligations.
In so many ways, he’d made my life easier. Better, even. My family was thriving. I was fed, cared for by everyone around me, accepted for exactly who I was, and doing more with my life than I’d ever imagined possible. I was happy.
Emrys’s presence was a comforting shield for every step I’d taken since he’d smashed that first door in the castle. With him, I felt completely safe and secure for the first time in my entire life.
If he needed me, I would do anything to help him—even if it threatened to break my heart in two. I didn’t know what the future would bring, but I would take what he would offer right now. Because I already feared I wanted things he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, let himself give me in the long term.