Chapter 62
Lilias
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When Anura opens the door to wake me, I’m already sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the flickering shadows cast by the lantern on the wall behind me. The sky outside the window is just beginning to change from black to gray, suggesting the slow arrival of the sun.
“Are you feeling okay?” Anura asks as the door creaks open.
I shake my head. Gods, I don’t even know where to begin. Zarek wants to annul our marriage? As if anyone who witnessed the sham of our Unity Tour would believe our marriage hasn’t been consummated.
But it hasn’t. All of his affection for me was for show. Privately, he doesn’t even want me. Or perhaps he was planning to annul this marriage all along.
Anura sits on the bed next to me and takes my hand in hers. “You’re very brave to do this,” she says.
I blink, trying to understand what she’s talking about.
Oh. Right. Traveling to the palace, evading the troops of Vsenrog soldiers who have apparently invaded my country, and then telling my father that he is now at war with the kingdom he sold me to.
“Thank you,” I reply in a ragged voice. “I just hope he listens to me.”
Anura doesn’t respond. We sit together, her hand on mine, and stare at the stars as they wink out of the brightening sky.
“It should be me,” Anura finally says, under her breath. “I should go to the palace.”
I try to laugh, but it comes out sounding like a gasping cough.
“No,” I reply. “It should be Elrick. But I’ll do my best.”
Anura sniffs, and it occurs to me that most of the recent interactions between Elrick and my father turned into screaming matches. Maybe it is for the best that I’ll be the one to break this news to him.
“Well,” I say, squeezing Anura’s hand, “let’s get this over with.”
There are eight men and nine horses waiting for us in the courtyard. Owain is riding Prince Syvan’s white stallion, which might be a problem if we run into anyone from Vsenrog who’s familiar with their royal stables, but I don’t have it in me to talk him out of it.
Zarek is near the back, on a squat little mare with a round belly. He turns away when I look at him.
Fine. I turn away too, letting Anura lead me to the bay gelding next to Owain. We’ll be riding hard to reach the palace by this evening. I’ll just pretend the snake of Vsenrog isn’t even here.
Owain nods at me as I mount the gelding. We start out at a slow trot, moving steadily down the road toward the tree that was mangled by lightning. I refuse to look backward. Owain pulls up next to me.
“Hope your guard is up for the trip,” he mutters under his breath.
My chest feels tight, and my sleepless night isn’t helping matters. I think about the bruises on Zarek’s chest, the cut down his neck, and the way he winced when he thought I wasn’t looking.
And then I think about the look on his face when he told me we could have our marriage annulled.
I nudge my horse forward without replying.
We ride. It’s a delicate thing, to push a horse without exhausting it, and Owain balances along that knife’s edge all day.
We run, then walk, then stop to rest by the river before running again.
My brother’s men-at-arms are mostly silent, passing around flasks of water and an occasional hard lump of cheese or traveling biscuit as we wait for the forward scouts to return.
The countryside is oddly silent. We pass a few herds of sheep and, as we drop into the valley, cattle, but we cut wide trails around the cities and towns, avoiding people as best we can. I start to feel like we’re the only people left in the Kingdom of Marion.
The sun is dipping low against the western horizon when the scouts return from surveying our final approach to the palace. They ride slowly, then stop to drink from their waterskins before speaking.
“All clear along the road,” says the older scout, and I almost sigh with relief. “But—”
He frowns, like he’s searching for his next words. Beside me, Owain is perfectly silent. I think he’s holding his breath.
“There are tents outside the city wall,” he finishes.
Owain inhales, sharp and fast. The white stallion beneath him tenses and paws the ground.
It’s not unusual to have tents outside the city wall during the summer. Royal dignitaries are always visiting each other, and it’s a show of status to have so many attendants that they need to be housed in separate tents. It can get a little ridiculous, actually.
But armies travel in tents as well.
“Are they flying any flags?” Owain asks in a low voice.
The scout shakes his head. Owain turns to me, almost like he’s expecting me to be able to explain this.
“My father must have guests,” I say as my heart sinks.
That’s just what I want when I break the news that his kingdom has been invaded. An audience.
Owain shrugs, then turns to me. “Put your hood up,” he says. “Let’s try not to attract any unnecessary attention.”
I do as he says, and we carefully pick our way down the last mountain pass and into the valley that holds the palace of Marion.
I focus on my hands as they curl around the reins and keep my head down.
For a few long hours, I try to be invisible.
It reminds me of my miserable journey to Vsenrog.
The horrible symmetry makes me feel like I’m sinking into something dark and cold, and I might never get out.
But, slowly and painfully, the tired horses bring us through the city gates, up the cobblestone streets, and to the gates of the palace. Owain exchanges a few words with the guard, and we’re waved in.
I’m home.
I push back my hood and look around the courtyard.
Lights flicker in the windows, beating back the dusk.
The scent of roasting meat makes my stomach groan, and the familiar click of hooves on the stones brings back an avalanche of memories.
Learning how to ride, with Elrick following alongside.
Hiding in the stables from my nursemaids and shrieking when I was found.
Sneaking into the kitchens, running through the corridors, standing at the windows and looking west, to Ethiria, wondering what my life would be like when I married Prince Laurance.
I swallow hard. The courtyard is just like I remember it, but it’s smaller somehow, too. I’m not the same person I was when I rode out of these gates, bound for Vsenrog and the snake.
I glance backward as subtly as I can. I’ve done my absolute best to ignore Zarek today, but still, it’s been impossible to avoid him entirely. Now, I watch as he dismounts, somewhat clumsily, then clutches his side.
Gods. I turn away, my cheeks burning. Zarek never should have made this trip with his injuries. I should have ordered him to stay at the hunting lodge. Hells, I should have asked Owain to tie him up and lock him in the stables.
“Princess?” Owain asks.
I turn to see my brother’s guard offering me his hand. I dismount and hand the reins over to one of the stable boys with a smile.
“Pattick, right?” I ask the boy.
He doesn’t respond, and I wonder if I got the name wrong. But no, this is Pattick. He’s the quietest of the stable boys, and he likes watching the swallows that build their nests above the stalls.
“Take good care of him,” I tell Pattick as I reach over to pat the exhausted gelding on his neck. “He’s had a long day.”
Pattick still doesn’t respond. Instead, he stares at me with wide eyes until I turn back to Owain. I expected Owain to look relieved, perhaps triumphant. We made it to the palace, after all. There were no troops in the mountains. Hells, we crossed through the city walls before the sun set.
But Owain looks even more nervous than he did when we left the hunting lodge. He glances at the castle gates; for a heartbeat, I have the strangest sense that he’s about to tell me to run. Then he turns back to me, and the moment passes.
“Come on,” he says in a low voice. “We have to find your father.”