Chapter Eight
Captain Wavedancer wasn’t kidding.
But I don’t think this was exactly the discomfort she had in mind.
I spent several minutes scrubbing the Fell’s blood from my hands and its drool from my face with a cloth the prince gave me, and I managed not to think about anything while I did so. But now …
Kaelen rides the horse like he was born to do it, which, of course, he was.
I’m riding astride in front of him with all the balance and grace of a donkey trying to pirouette.
I’m holding myself as rigidly straight as I can to avoid leaning back against him or allowing any part of me to touch him, even though his arms are around me to hold the reins.
But the horse’s every step jolts through me and threatens to throw off my already precarious balance.
The blow I took to the head isn’t helping with my overall state of misery, either—my skull pounds in rhythm with the horse’s gait.
Despite all this, I’m vividly aware of the heat of the prince’s body behind mine. His powerful thighs surround my hips and legs, and they flex with his every movement. His sandalwood scent wraps around me, too, scraping my nerves to a shivering awareness I’ve never felt before.
I’ve read Sorchonne Parnour’s Love Languages of the Courtesans’ Guild, 7th edition, although I’m sure the Sister Superior would have ordered me beaten if she knew I entered the restricted vaults in the library.
So, I know what I’m feeling. This is merely a physiological reaction to the nearness of an extraordinarily beautiful man, combined with the aftereffects of our brush with danger and my appreciation for his powerful and deadly skill that protected me.
It’s also, in no small part, my mind trying so hard not to think about the Fell I killed.
The prince’s husky chuckle near my ear sends a shiver down my spine, and I swear I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I quietly exhale, and the breath leaving my body takes with it my feeble attempts to intellectualize my response to Kaelen.
He’s unfairly handsome, he just undoubtedly saved my life, and he’s closer than close.
“You can lean back, Soli. I promise not to bite.”
Images of the prince putting his mouth on me flood my mind, and my face feels like it’s on fire.
Excerpts from romance novels I read with utmost discretion at the library suddenly emerge in my consciousness with word-perfect clarity.
The Sister Superior would have beaten me within an inch of my life if she’d ever found out, and the thought is nearly enough to cool my flushed cheeks.
I’m suddenly fiercely glad the night hasn’t yet turned over her jurisdiction of the skies to the dawn.
I’d hate for anyone to see me blush and wonder why.
“I don’t want to be a burden,” I respond, my voice as stiff as my muscles.
Kaelen sighs. “Soli. You’re not a burden. You’re carrying the burden—one that may save Altarra. You’re going to have to let the rest of us share the load.”
When I say nothing, I feel him tense behind me.
“I didn’t protect you. I’m so sorry. I never should have let any of the monsters get close to you,” he says, his voice grim. “Please forgive me and know that it won’t happen again while I have breath to protect the amulet.”
I’m stunned out of my thoughts and twist around to see him. His dark eyes glint in the fading predawn moonlight. His face is set in hard lines.
“Kae—I mean, I’m sorry. Prince Kaelen. How can you say that? We might all be dead if it weren’t for you.”
His eyes bore into mine as if he’s trying to see into my most secret thoughts.
Then his tight shoulders relax slightly.
“First, call me Kaelen. This subterfuge of ours won’t work if anybody hears ‘prince’ this or ‘majesty’ that.
Second, if I’d been more prepared, we wouldn’t have lost eleven men to death and another to severe injury. I promise you, I will do better.”
His promise has the force of a vow, and I bite back the automatic protest that tries to rise to my lips. He didn’t plan this expedition or want to go on it, even, yet his first instinct was to take command—saving our lives with his sword—and then take responsibility for any failures.
“I promise to do better, too.” I turn back around to face forward and try to shove my fear of the horse out of my mind. “I’m learning about poisons, but maybe you’d better teach me how to use a dagger. For the next time we’re attacked.”
I hear him growl with frustration, and I almost smile.
“Seems like you did a fine job on your own,” Chitai says dryly, after cantering her horse up next to us. “I believe you have something of mine.”
I stare at her, not understanding her at first, and then it hits me.
Her dagger. “Oh! Chitai, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to steal your knife—I just, it …
I was so scared, I acted without thinking.
But I don’t—” I shuddered. “I’m so sorry.
I didn’t think to … I would have had to pull it back out. I’ll find a way to replace it.”
Kaelen interrupts my flood of words by leaning over and reaching into his boot. He pulls out a dagger and flips it through the air to Chitai, who catches it easily in one hand. “I retrieved it for you.”
She nods her thanks and sheathes the knife. “You don’t fight like a riverlander, prince. I’ve only seen skill like that with a blade once before.”
She looks different than she did in the throne room, although she’s wearing the same attire.
The knives, of course. But her clothes, which looked like innocuous beige wrappings in the palace, are now fitted tightly to her muscular body, and her arms are bare.
A length of blue cloth is tied around her left upper arm, its ends trailing to her elbow.
Her sharp, black-eyed gaze turns to me. “I am Chitai of the Desert of Sharnon. You have no need to apologize to me for using my weapon in your time of great need. The tribe that shares resources survives the boiling sands. This was your first kill?”
I take a shaky breath. “I … Yes. I want to say I hope it will be my only kill, but that seems dangerously naive, considering our mission.”
Writings about the peoples of the Desert of Sharnon are rare and offer little in the way of actual information.
There’s a rumor that people who ask too many questions there don’t live long.
After seeing Chitai fight, I’m not surprised.
Maybe her great-grandparents were members of the Dawn—a now-extinct sect of desert warriors famed for their honor as much as their skill.
“Kaelen. Soli. For the duration of this quest, I pledge my water, knives, and life to yours,” she says so formally, I know it’s a serious vow. “Artemisen must be saved, and you, Soli, are the arrow we’ll shoot at the goddess Corvynne. Only a coward would abandon you.”
“For this quest, I pledge my water, blades, and life to yours,” Kaelen says. “You’re most welcome to our journey, Chitai of Sharnon.”
Chitai inclines her head to him and then looks at me.
I want to respond in kind, but my usual tendency to think—probably overmuch—before I act stops me. I concentrate for a moment, gazing at the empty street as we ride, before looking back at Chitai.
“Is it honorable if I make this pledge without fully understanding what it means? I’ve never in my life touched a blade other than a kitchen knife before tonight.
Water has been one of the few resources I’ve not been short on.
My life, though, is already sworn to this quest, even though I didn’t choose it.
” I take a deep breath. “If you’re promising to be part of it, I appreciate you more than I can express.
I absolutely pledge to do everything I can to keep you safe, although I realize it’s not much of a pledge for a servant to make to a warrior. But if you accept it, I’d be honored.”
Chitai rewards me with a solemn nod. “Your pledge is given in truth and humility, which makes it one of the most valuable I’ve heard. One tribe, Soli of Pyrrh, Kaelen of Valourian.”
“One tribe, Chitai of Sharnon,” Kaelen says.
Before I can speak again, she urges her horse into a canter and moves up next to Sergeant Neville.
“That was very well done,” Kaelen murmurs, putting one muscled arm around my waist to pull me closer to him. “You’re a world of contradictions all wrapped up in a beautiful package, aren’t you?”
I don’t know how to answer that, so I say nothing, but heat floods my face again. This prince whose hard body is pressed against mine thinks I’m beautiful? But then I sigh.
His two personalities are what—meaningless flirt and deadly threat? Which do I like more?
Which do I hate less?
Me, beautiful.
I scoff at myself. He’s a courtier with years of practice at mindless, flirtatious banter. It means nothing. Still, just hearing the word directed at me is so unexpected and fantastical that it’s almost enough to make me forget the Fell I killed, no matter how accidentally.
And the horse I’m riding.
And the city gate we’re rapidly approaching.
And my only friend, riding in the wagon behind.
Almost enough to make me forget the amulet around my neck.
Almost.
But not quite enough to make me forget that Kaelen said protect the amulet.
Not protect you.