Chapter 57
Isca
I was safe now.
Relief hit me so hard my knees nearly buckled, and only Emrys’s arm at my back kept me upright. I leaned into his warmth, inhaling his scent, drinking in the feel of his magic, his heartbeat—things I wanted to call mine.
Since we’d ridden out of Darreth, he’d worn armor.
But I’d never seen him bristling with so much steel from neck to toe.
The ruby-pommeled short sword I’d seen so many times before was gone.
In its place, he gripped a broadsword meant to cleave through men by the dozen.
It and the daggers at his waist still held traces of blood.
My chest ached with how badly I’d missed him, with how much I wanted to jump into his arms and never be alone again.
I gripped his hand, finding comfort in its firmness.
He squeezed back, the unexpected tenderness of the gesture at odds with the barely contained rage burning in the air all around him.
Still holding my hand, he took a step toward Anwen. “What has your cousin done?” he demanded, his voice a blade made of magic.
The air itself seemed to flinch. The tension between the cursed prince and the iron princess sharpened. A cold spark of magic radiated from her, poised to slice through Emrys’s darkness.
The look I sent Anwen was stern, a warning and a silent plea not to take the bait. I’d warned her about how to handle Emrys when he was like this. She’d listened because she met my gaze then inclined her head just enough to show she’d understood.
“We’re leaving,” I said firmly, hoping each steady word would cut through the curse’s rage. “Please. This is our path to peace, Emrys.”
His gaze had been fixed on Anwen, but at the word “peace,” his attention flicked back to me, a hint of warmth returning to those cold eyes. His jaw worked, clenching and unclenching. He wanted to argue, but I didn’t give him a chance.
When I tugged his hand, his fingers flexed like he wasn’t sure whether to follow or hold me there forever. “I’ll tell you everything on the road,” I said. “But I’m leaving this castle, with or without you. She’s not your enemy, Emrys.”
The curse sparked like lightning over the storm-tossed waters in his eyes. He growled again, and the pillars holding the roof in place shook.
I wanted to throw my hands in the air and growl, too, but that would be unladylike. It was the curse I was addressing, not the man himself, when I said, “Just carry me out of here like you want to.”
There wasn’t a moment of hesitation before he caught me around the waist. Then, with another snarl, he hauled me against him, and I felt the solid press of his body as I was swept over his shoulder.
I let out a startled squeak—half scandal, half delight. I knew the mood he was in.
And besides…I liked it.
“Oh, Emrys,” I murmured again, my voice soft enough to calm him, my cheek pressed against the cold steel of his armor. “I missed you.”
His arm tightened in a gentle squeeze around my middle—wordless proof that somewhere inside all that fury, he was still with me.
With each step away from the throne room, his steel sabatons clashed on the stone like crashes of thunder.
The great doors groaned open ahead of us with a flick of his magic.
Anwen waited behind. I clung tighter, so happy to be back in his arms, but equally dreading what would happen after we left this bubble of safety she’d created for us.
Once we were out in the courtyard, Emrys pointed his face away from me, and let his voice boom with magic, ringing out against stone and sky. “Two fresh horses or so help me I will burn your city to the ground!”
The echo hadn’t even faded before a young stable hand scrambled into view, leading two saddled horses. Anwen appeared behind us on the castle steps at the same time.
“Take them,” she called down. “And return them with your answer?”
Her sword belt was loose, scabbard empty. She must’ve abandoned it earlier, unwilling to provoke Emrys further. From her, that seemed like quite the concession.
Emrys offered her no response, only a harsh glare that cut through the following silence.
Still dangling over his shoulder, I tilted my head to meet her eyes. Not caring to disguise my long-suffering sigh, I said, “I’ll write back even if he doesn’t. Your entreaty will get an answer, Princess.”
One corner of her mouth twitched upward. “It may be enough for now that my court can see him leaving in peace after…everything. Thank you, truly, Lady Isca.”
She curtsied then, a deep, sincere gesture of appreciation that she allowed me to feel. She’d dropped her mental protections to show her respect, not for the prince who’d just threatened her gates, but for me.
I smiled back. I hoped I’d get to see her again. Princess Anwen was my opposite in so many ways, but I thought we could work well together if given the chance.
Then I was lifted again, weightless for a heartbeat before Emrys settled me onto one of the horses. He swung up behind me in a single fluid motion. I wasn’t dressed for riding. My ankles were awkwardly exposed, and I had to manage the mountain of fabric that was my skirts in front of me.
One of Emrys’s hands took hold of our mount’s reins, but the other never loosened from his sword hilt.
A thread of magic attached the second horse’s reins to the back of our saddle.
Without another word, he urged us forward.
We left the empty castle courtyard through the first set of fortress gates, the second horse trailing behind.
The scene beyond was no less quiet, but twice as menacing. Dozens and dozens of armed and armored men lined the cobblestone pathway leading out of the city in a gauntlet of bodies. Emrys’s heartbeat was racing through the layers of steel between us. Mine was doing the same.
Once we stepped past the first gates, the tidal wave of the soldiers’ fear slammed into me.
They were so tense, so filled with dread that it seeped through the defenses I’d erected around my mind against it.
The terror and martial readiness of so many minds feeling exactly the same way all in one place overwhelmed me.
My wobbly legs could barely keep me in the saddle.
Not a single one of the steel-plated fighters met my eyes as we passed row after row. Yet, their interest followed us with grim fascination so sharp it sliced through my back.
Emrys, in turn, was poised to tap into the immense well of power he carried with him everywhere at a moment’s notice. He was a crouching lion, ready to strike out at the first thing that moved too fast.
I would’ve fallen apart without his warm, reassuring presence.
He’d keep me safe; the certainty of it was as clear as our path forward.
Even through my inner turbulence, my fingers itched to reach back, to remind Emrys I was here.
That he didn’t need to burn a kingdom to ashes for retribution, didn’t need to hurt anyone for us to return to Darreth safely.
Yet, despite being surrounded by men who should’ve been enemies, after what he’d likely done to get this far, Emrys managed to control his curse—without my magic. I was proud of him.
Finally, by a miracle born of Anwen’s command and Emrys’s control, we passed through Tir Gelida’s final set of gates without incident.
We were both so tense that we didn’t speak until the city was nothing but a jagged silhouette against the brightening sky.
The whole way, Emrys checked the road behind us over and over, like each shadow might sprout a battalion.
When we were beyond the hills outside the city, he dismounted and rifled through the second horse’s saddlebags.
“What did you find?” I asked.
His voice was rough, cracked with dehydration and fatigue. “Provisions and a tent.”
That caught me off guard. It was almost like Anwen had had our escape planned. I hoped I wasn’t being too trusting, but I had a good feeling about her—even if she was moody and had tried to intimidate me at every turn.
In that way, she was a lot like Emrys.
He pulled out bread and cheese, a skin of water, thrusting them toward me. “You trust her?”
“Enough to eat the food she packed,” I said, taking the offering. “Emrys, you look half-dead. Eat, drink while we travel. Please.”
His shoulders rose and fell in a deep breath filled with resignation. “Yes.”
We mounted again, and he chewed in silence, waterskin resting in the mess of my skirts, ready for him whenever he needed it. I tried not to look around and stare at the bruised hollows under his eyes, but it was clear—he hadn’t slept. He might not have eaten either.
The day stretched long over the road. I told him everything about my capture, what little I knew of Maelric’s men and Anwen’s intervention—everything but the conversation we’d shared in her warded chambers. That could wait.
He didn’t speak about what he’d done to rescue me. He might never. It would be a bloody story, but if he ever wanted to tell it, I’d be there with open ears and arms.
By the time the sun kissed the horizon, I shifted stiffly in the saddle, ready to make any excuse to get him to take care of himself.
“I need to rest. You know I’m still a terrible horsewoman.
” I tried for a smile then sobered. “Emrys, you look worse than I do. While it’s still light, and I’m not drowsy, please sleep.
I can keep a lookout. I’m not completely defenseless. ”
His answer was soft, unexpected. “I know.”
A copse of trees waited a little way off.
We turned the horses in, and for the first time, he let me help him pitch the tent.
Side by side, we worked until the canvas stood taut and ready, and I dared to think maybe, just maybe, the curse’s grip was loosening with every mile we put between us and Tir Gelida.
Inside the tent, the air was still and quiet as I rolled out our gifted bedrolls. Ever wary, he kneeled, keeping watch out the opening.
“Emrys, will you hold me?” I asked, tone hopeful.
He startled as if he’d been half-asleep on his knees. His eyes were softer when he turned to me. He wrapped the blanket Anwen had given us around my shoulders then pulled it and me against him, still wearing his armor. Within moments, he’d slipped into slumber.
I didn’t mean to follow him into sleep, but the rhythm of his heartbeat and steady breathing pulled me under with him.
When I woke hours later, he was still holding me, asleep. Or so I thought, until he nuzzled into my hair and murmured a single word, almost too low to hear, “Mine.”
My heart swelled until it hurt.
“Yours,” I whispered back.
His arms tightened, and I laughed softly. “Emrys, I feel like history keeps repeating itself. I love this, but I found soap in the saddlebags. You really need to use it.”
He laughed, his face mirroring the joy of the man who’d stayed up all night, reminiscing about his childhood with me. Moonlight spilled through the tent’s half-open flap as he levered himself up to crouch over me.
“The river’s close,” he said quietly, as if afraid to disturb the hush of the night. His eyes caught the faint moonlight, bright and untamed. “But I can’t leave you.”
“I’ll come.” I stretched under the blanket, savoring the lingering warmth he’d left behind.
The idea of cold water should’ve made me shiver, but there was a low hum of anticipation in my chest. The curse might still have had its claws in him, but here, under the moon’s silver light and far from prying eyes, it felt like there was enough space just for us.
We left the horses tethered near the tent with some hay they’d had stowed in their packs and followed the sound through the trees until the ground sloped down to a narrow bank.
The river glimmered black and silver in the moonlight, slow-moving but deep, reflecting the sky so perfectly it felt like stepping to the edge of another world.
It was the northern reaches of the same one we’d bathed in together what felt like an eternity before.
Emrys stopped at the water’s edge, scanning the dark beyond. He was always assessing, always protecting. His fingers brushed mine in a momentary connection that felt like an unspoken question.
“I…” he started, but his voice was unsure. He twisted to assess the land around us yet again, wary.
By the time he turned around, my fingers were already halfway down the laces of my bodice. “I’m coming with you.”
He watched, spellbound, as I hastily removed my outer dress. I watched him, and he was so still that I couldn’t detect even the faintest rise and fall of his chest. Now, wearing nothing but my thin chemise, I reached for the soap in the pocket of my discarded gown.
“Anwen had my clothes cleaned. I’d like to keep them dry.”
Emrys still hadn’t moved, so I tossed the soap at him. He intercepted it with a quick hand just before it hit him squarely in the face.
Decision made with eyes wide open, I lifted my chemise over my head, revealing myself, body and soul to him.
“Take me with you, Emrys.”