Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
Pyrite
I have the camp set up within moments, but the weight of two stares boring into my back makes it feel like a millenia.
“Be the supportive sister, Leda,” I mutter to myself. “Be the one that stays with the human and the flying death trap.”
A snort follows my whisper, too low for the prince to hear but clearly loud enough for the flying death trap to hear.
Zephyr nudges at my back, shoving me forward enough that my hands fly out to stop from tumbling forward. I huff and glance at the beast over my shoulder. So many of my Aegis comrades had been surprised I wasn’t chosen to be a Rider.
I on the other hand, wasn’t.
There’s only one thing I hate more than those that sided with Vidaris: flying.
The too smart for her own good creature nudges me again, and I suppress a squeak as I nearly topple over. She huffs a sharp breath as if laughing. I glare at her, a smirk playing at my lips. The beast was laughing at me.
I shake my head and crouch back down to the makeshift tent in front of me. Carefully, I tie down each of the four corners to the ground, securing it with a heavy boulder. I brought enough supplies for one small tent.
Me and Zephyr have come to an understanding of sorts. She terrorizes me, I scream. I get over it briefly and appreciate her beauty and brilliance. She scares me again by twirling me in the air. I scream again. So on and so forth.
Zephyr nudges me once more and I huff, turning fully to face her.
“What?” I ask, watching those golden rings within her too-curious of a gaze.
She twists her head to the left and shakes it up and down, stopping her two legs lightly as if to say, “Look there!”
My eyes follow her version of pointing. I sigh when my attention lands on what she’s urging me toward.
A tense back faces me, muscles bunched at the shoulders. My jaw tenses. I’d rather spend time getting tortured by Zephyr than talk to the prince. But he’s left in my charge. As much as I’d gladly let a cerberus make him its next meal, he’s in my protection right now.
“Your sleeping quarters, your highness.” I throw out an arm dramatically, my voice dull as I show Adrian his tent.
He turns toward me, just a few paces away as his eyes flicker to the small tapestry set up.
“Where will you sleep?” He asks warily.
I don’t answer him. Isn’t it obvious? The tent can fit one person, that person is him. I’ll sleep outside, beneath the stars like any good warrior would.
“But…” His brows draw together tightly. “It isn’t safe out here alone, right?”
A harsh laugh rumbles from my chest.
I’m a warrior that has trained her entire life among the fiercest of Aegis fae. Even without my magic, I would bet on me winning against most of the creatures that roam this land. I’m trained to wake at the sound of a branch cracking hundreds of paces away.
Plus, I have Zephyr. And while she may be paired with Lunaria, she’s incredibly smart and attuned to Lunaria. She knows I’d protect Lunaria at all costs, so the creature would likely do the same for me.
But Adrian?
I laugh again, and his brows raise this time, looking at me as if I’ve lost my mind.
“You’re weak,” I hiss, meaning each word. “As a man and a king.”
Weakness is more than physical. More than stamina.
My jab at him runs deeper than the surface.
It’s aimed at his decisions when he was supposed to be my sister’s friend.
I doubt she’s told me the full extent of their interactions, but I can see the wound left on her heart each time she looks at him.
Even though she hides it well—with rage—I can see it written across her face. Her eyes give her away.
A look I know all too well, one that I used to have when I was younger.
My chest tightens as I let the emotions flow through me—the sadness for Lunaria, the twinge of pain at my younger self, and the justified fury I feel towards Adrian.
Lunaria hasn’t figured out yet that emotions don’t weaken us, they give us the strength to overcome the things that try to haunt us.
But Adrian?
He represents the very thing I despise.
Adrian’s the face of the kingdom that refuses to see Penyth for anything other than evil. He’s followed what the oppressive men before him taught him, blindly believing their propaganda without a second thought.
He didn’t think for himself.
As much as I distrusted Lunaria when I first met her, I could see her individuality the moment I met her. Her drive and determination. She may have been a daughter of Crea, but she was meant to be in Penyth. She fit in the moment she stepped a foot into our kingdom, whether she believed it or not.
His face twists in anger.
“And you’re a bitch,” Adrian spits out.
I fall deathly still.
Before he can blink, my fist rears back and punches forward, connecting with his jaw. His head snaps back and blood pours from a split across the top of his left cheek.
The prince smiles and moves toward me. On instinct, my fist flies forward to block his ascent. My knuckles cut across his jaw this time, ricocheting his face to the right at an awkward angle.
He spits out a wad of light crimson liquid as salvia mixes with the blood in his mouth. “But you hit pretty fucking good.”
I blink, my gaze catching on the maroon dribble coming from the corner of his lip.
Maybe there’s more to him than I thought there was.
I busy myself by counting the rations of food I packed in my satchel.
Then I go through Adrian’s bag, scooping it up and doing the same thing to his.
We didn’t bring much, just enough food for the next several days, a leather skein for water which I would search for next, and the supplies for the tent.
There’s never a time to carry more than you need.
“That’s dinner?” Adrian grumbles.
I nod to it, hardly looking his way as I brush dirt from my pants.
This forest is filled with small creeks and streams, I just need to find a flowing one that the precious prince won’t get sick off of.
“Hello?” Adrian drags the word out, spoiling my annoyance. “Isn’t there some fish we can catch and roast?”
My neck prickles.
“With what fire?” I say slowly. “One that’ll attract a creature that’ll kill you before I have the chance to move?”
That would never happen, but he doesn’t have to know that. The fire would attract unwanted guests, that much is true. But I would hear it coming far sooner than it having the chance to sneak up on us.
Adrian pales and I smile.
“I’m going to look for water. Zephyr will keep watch.” I give her a pointed look. “Don’t eat him.”
Zephyr slowly turns her massive head toward Adrian and growls softly, teeth bared near his head. I hear him gulp and my grin widens.
I have to hand it to her, it is a little fun torturing someone. I leave Adrian with Zephyr, keeping close enough to hear him trying to tell Zephyr that he wouldn’t be a tasty snack.
A chuckle trickles out of my mouth despite myself as I find a small stream flowing through the forest. It’s moving quick enough that there shouldn’t be too much bacteria for a human to handle. If anything he’ll be sick to his stomach for a few hours.
I hold the skein beneath the water, letting it slowly fill it up. My mind drifts to Lunaria, to where she is and what she’s doing.
My forearms tighten as my fingers clutch the skein.
My promise to our mother floats into my mind.
“Keep her safe, Leda,” she had said.
It was the first thing she said to me when we left Lunaria’s room after the aconite poisoning from Reichardt.
“She’s not from our world, but there are forces that we cannot control that will try to corrupt her. Try to harm her.”
My mother—a woman rarely shaken—was trembling as we stood outside of Lunaria’s room. I didn’t know it then, but there was a lot she was keeping from Lunaria. From me.
We had always been close, able to tell each other anything. But as much as she was my mother, she was also the queen. A brilliant and daring one at that. I trust her explicitly, even if I don’t understand why she would let everyone believe Reichardt was Lunaria’s father by blood.
But it isn’t my place to question her.
All I need to do now is pray to the goddess that Lunaria knows what she’s doing.
My stomach churns, the memory of her leaving to save Graylen still fresh in my mind. How can I keep her safe from here?
The container overflows with water, pouring back into the stream with nowhere else to go. I sniff and harshly wipe my nose on my left-hand sleeve as I left the canteen out.
Sometimes, keeping people safe is letting them be free. Be themselves. I’ve seen Lunaria’s magic at work and it’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. It’s a raw power that I’ve only ever witnessed our mother have.
She’s strong. And I can’t be the one to stop her from going to Graylen, caging her in like everyone else in her life.
So I’ll wait here for her. Watching Zephyr like a hawk to see if there’s any alarms happening between their connection. Every story of a Rider and their wyvern tells of their emotional connection, of the way their pain can travel between each other like an extension of their sleeves.
If Zephyr is calm, then so am I.