25. Ash
Ash
Three days from Norwich, the cold breeze gave way to dry heat, and the landscape opened into sun-washed plains.
I hated it.
I’d always hated Norwich. It was too big, too polished—a place where the divide between rich and poor was visible; if you weren’t born into comfort there, you scraped for it, sometimes even bled for it.
Or you didn’t make it at all.
And the seasons barely existed. Norwich had no true winter, no real autumn. Just a constant, dull warmth that never quite changed. It felt wrong.
Still, my family would’ve killed for that kind of weather growing up. I remembered the kind of cold that settled deep into your bones and stayed there. The kind that didn’t leave even when you were indoors because indoors didn’t mean much when your walls couldn’t keep anything out.
We crossed a narrow bridge, the wood creaking beneath the weight of the carriage and horses. The river below ran low this far south, more of a trickle than rush.
Behind me came silence. The carriage rocked gently, no movement inside. Claire had likely dozed off. I huffed a quiet breath, something softer tugging at the edge of my mouth despite myself.
Figures.
She’d been quieter these last couple days. Thoughtful.
And the other night—
My jaw tightened as the memory flickered through my mind. Her lips. Soft didn’t even begin to cover it. They’d lingered in my thoughts far longer than they should have. The way she melted into me...
I exhaled slowly. I wanted her. That much was becoming harder to ignore. Maybe tonight…
An arrow split the air. It whistled past my shoulder close enough that I felt the wind of it before it struck the ground behind me with a dull thud.
“Caspian!” I barked, yanking my horse to the side as my hand went straight for my blade.
Another arrow flew. Then another. They came from the tree line, figures emerging from the brush.
Caspian was beside me in an instant, already unsheathing his weapon. “Left side!” he shouted.
“I see them.”
Steel rang as I drew my sword, the familiar weight settling into my hand like an extension of my own body. My pulse steadied, my focus snapped into place.
One rushed me first. I met him head-on. The clash of metal echoed as our blades collided. He was fast, but sloppy. I pivoted, deflecting his swing before driving my elbow into his ribs and sending him stumbling back.
Another came from the side. I whirled, slashing low, forcing him to retreat as Caspian engaged two more a few paces away. The sounds of fighting filled the air—steel on steel, boots on dirt, the sharp grunt of impact.
One-on-one.
That was fine.
I could handle that.
The first man lunged again. I parried, twisted, drove him back, but another body slammed into me from behind before I could reset my footing.
The impact knocked the breath from my lungs.
I hit the ground hard. Dirt and heat rushed up around me as my grip on my sword faltered for half a second, just long enough.
“Shit—”
I rolled just as a blade came down where my head had been. Scrambling back, my chest heaving as I forced myself upright. I glanced toward Caspian. He was locked in his own fight—two of them now, pressing him hard.
No help there.
Then, movement. My head snapped toward the carriage. One of the bandits had broken off and was heading straight for it, knife already drawn, a smug look spreading across his face like he’d just found the easiest prize of the day.
“Hey!” I shouted, pushing to my feet.
I was too far. He reached the carriage, grabbing for the handle—
His body went rigid, his expression shifting from smug to confused, to something else entirely.
And then, he dropped.
For a second, the world tilted. Claire stood just beyond him, chest heaving, her eyes wide and wild. Her cheeks flushed with adrenaline, she stared down at the man, a rock still clenched in her hand as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just done.
And then everything snapped back into place.
“Claire!”
I was moving before I finished saying her name, blade still slick in my grip as I closed the distance between us. I reached her in two strides, grabbing her wrist.
“Stay close,” I warned, my body already shifting to put myself between her and the fight. Her eyes flicked to me, still wide, still dazed, but she nodded.
Good.
Because I didn’t have time to check twice.
One of the remaining bandits broke from the edge of the trees, charging straight toward us with a shout.
I met him halfway. Steel clashed hard enough to jar up my arm, but I held, pivoting into the strike and driving him off balance.
He came again, faster this time, but I was already inside his guard.
One clean movement.
A twist.
A strike.
He went down.
The last one hesitated long enough for Caspian to close in from behind and finish him.
Silence fell, broken only by the sound of our breathing. I stood there for a second longer, blade still raised, scanning the tree line for movement.
“Clear,” Caspian called after a moment, wiping his blade on the edge of his sleeve before sheathing it.
I lowered mine. Then we glanced at each other slyly. A beat passed.
“Well?” he said, lifting a brow. “Body count?”
I rolled my shoulder as I nudged one of the bodies lightly with my boot. “Three.”
He scoffed. “Four.”
I shot him a look. “You don’t get to claim the one I disarmed.”
“I finished him. That counts.”
“Does not.”
“Does.”
I shook my head, a faint grin tugging at my mouth despite the adrenaline still humming through me. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re losing,” he shot back.
“Hardly.”
For a moment, it almost felt normal. Like just another job, another fight. Another tally.
And then, I remembered.
Claire.
I turned back to her immediately, the grin fading as quickly as it had come.
She was still standing there. Still clutching that rock.
Still looking at the man she’d taken down.Crossing the space between us in two strides, I gently pried the stone from her white-knuckled grip.
Her hands were trembling. I brought two fingers to the pulse point at her throat, checking the frantic, racing rhythm of her heart, before checking her over for any blood that wasn’t her own.
“Hey,” I murmured, guiding her toward a flat boulder nearby. “Look at me, Claire. Just breathe.”
I sat beside her and pulled her flush against my chest, wrapping my arms tightly around her to anchor her against the shivering. Pressing my lips to the top of her head, I shielded her from the sight of the unconscious man.
“You did what you had to do,” I murmured, my voice a low, steady rumble against her temple.
“If you hadn’t hit him, he would have taken you, Claire.
He would have kidnapped you for ransom, or worse, he would have killed you.
That is the harsh reality of the Wilds—it is kill or be killed, and you protected yourself. You did perfectly.”
Claire shuddered against me, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt as she buried her face in my neck.
“I woke up to the sound of fighting,” she whispered, her voice fragile and small against my skin.
“And I was… I was so worried about you and Caspian. I climbed out because I wanted to help somehow.” She swallowed hard, a ragged, uneven breath catching in her throat.
“I’ve seen animals be killed on the farm.
I thought I understood. But I’ve never seen a human hurt like that before.
Especially not… especially not by my own hand. ”
I squeezed her tighter, resting my chin on top of her head. My heart twinged at her raw honesty, but a fierce, protective warmth bloomed deep in my chest.
“I am so damn proud of you,” I whispered back, my voice thick with an emotion I couldn’t quite contain. “You defended yourself when it mattered most.”
Wanting to ease the heavy, suffocating weight of the trauma pressing down on her, I let a soft laugh rumble in my chest. I reached up, gently twisting one of her loose curls around my finger.
“Turns out you don’t need a wealthy duke to protect you after all, Princess. Looks like you can take care of yourself just fine.”
I smiled, expecting a sharp retort or a breathless laugh.
Instead, Claire stiffened in my arms, her gaze drifting over my shoulder, staring blankly into the distance. The silence stretched between us as she absorbed the words, a completely different kind of gravity settling over her expression.