Chapter 28
As soon as Ulafe’s brother returned the next day with a safe route to Bear’s home, Elbar had them back in the wagon, her magick at the reins, moving the horses faster, though they looked to be trotting normally to anyone wandering in the woodland late at night.
Enchanted by witch magick, the dark beasts knew the trail all the way to the north, crossing the border in an unpatrolled spot, heading further towards the mountains, the passengers in the wagon feeling only a smooth, slow journey, but still they remained awake, on full alert in case of any attack.
Scarlen could feel the air growing colder the further they travelled.
The thick black coat that had been provided for her at Ulafe’s helped protect her from the elements, and Bear’s arm securely around her added warmth to the layers.
And when Bear peered outside the canvas, she saw white sheets of snow covering the ground and light flurries floating down.
Her first time seeing such weather, and what a marvel it was.
‘We’re at Hedben,’ Bear told the others, letting go of the canvas so it flopped back into place as their door.
‘It’s the village before Zharros, our home,’ Wynter informed Scarlen.
Scarlen huddled closer to Bear, her steady heart awake and worried once more. ‘Won’t guards be waiting for us? They know where you live, right?’
‘They would have to battle to get through,’ said Raven. ‘They’re not ready for war with us yet, but they will come once they have taken the whole of Borough Mids.’
‘And by they, you mean the king.’ Part of Scarlen wanted to roll her eyes, but Horstal had taught her the northerners’ thoughts on the matter, so she had to accept they truly believed the king was their enemy.
It was a blessing her father had hidden her from the kingdom, else she was sure not even Bear would be able to protect her now.
Raven’s cold glare told a hundred stories. ‘Yes,’ he snapped. ‘The maniac trying to rule everyone.’
Wynter patted his hand before turning to Scarlen. ‘Don’t fret, the king’s army won’t come north for a long while. We’re out of Borough Mids now, so only the government can challenge us, and they won’t. They’re afraid of shifters, you see.’
‘Everyone’s afraid of us,’ added Raven. ‘Because they know we’ll fight them to the death.’
It sounded too extreme to Scarlen. ‘There doesn’t have to be any battles, in my opinion.
The king has told everyone wyrmocs will appear one day to try to destroy us, he has offered protection to the people under his care, and if the government don’t want any part of that, and some areas want to fight for themselves or choose not to believe the prophecy, then they simply let the king know, and he will leave them alone. ’
Raven scoffed. ‘You actually believe that?’
‘Well, it makes sense to me.’
‘So why are there battles taking place as we speak?’ asked Raven, looking curious to know her answer.
‘I can only assume some form of misunderstanding has taken place, because the people fighting the king don’t have to. He can’t just take their land without their permission. The government would step in if he tried that.’
Raven leaned away from Wynter, his head shaking furiously. ‘He is, and they’re not because he has some of them on his side. Nothing about what he is doing is legal, Smithson. Why are you sticking up for him?’
‘I’m not. I’m just saying it how I see it.’
‘Yeah,’ huffed Raven. ‘From a southerner’s point of view.’
‘Can we not talk politics?’ said Bear, sighing at them both.
Raven waggled one finger at Scarlen. ‘I can’t sit and listen to her defend the king.
The people aren’t fighting for fun, they’re under attack from nothing but the king’s army wanting their land under his rule.
Battles are going on daily, and for what?
’ He raised his brows at Scarlen in question.
‘Why would they randomly start a war with the king? Hmm?’
It was a fair point, and one she couldn’t answer.
As far as she knew, it was some of the midlanders causing the trouble, and the king’s army were trying to keep the peace, but Raven didn’t look ready to hear that, as his face was still scrunched, taking away his usual gentle appearance.
He definitely had two sides to him, and she was pleased his quieter side was the more dominant, or maybe it was Wynter who calmed him.
‘Enough,’ said Bear, his tone filled with authority. ‘We’re home.’
The wagon stopped, and Bear flapped open the canvas and jumped down to the crunch of snow beneath his dark boots.
‘Welcome home, my lord,’ said Elbar, as the others clambered out of the wagon.
Scarlen couldn’t see much in the dark, but the tall grey castle in front couldn’t be missed, the lead windows holding the glow of light, the high turrets reaching for the snow clouds, then she realised what Elbar had said. ‘Lord?’ she questioned Bear.
‘He is our lord since his mother’s passing,’ said Elbar as she passed to hurry out of the snow.
‘You’re lord of what, Zharros?’ Scarlen asked him.
A small laugh flew out of Raven’s mouth on a puff of cold air. ‘Try, Lord of the North.’
There were lords all over the kingdom, the king had entertained many, but each one held rank over towns and villages.
To be a lord over a whole Borough would make Bear almost as powerful as the government and king, and Scarlen had to wonder why he’d never mentioned such an important title before.
She could also see why he would be a threat to her father.
Never mind the wars in the kingdom, she was having her own internal battle.
I have to tell him I’m the princess. No, it would mean my death. But how can I not tell him? How can I speak of who I am at all?
A pain sliced through her temple, causing a low moan to slip and Bear to take her hand.
‘We need to rest. I’ll announce my arrival in the morning after we’ve been to visit Oxley and Harlex’s graves.’
Everyone headed inside, Scarlen close to Bear. ‘I’d like to place a flower upon Ox’s resting place,’ she told him, the memory of Oxley dying in her arms bringing more pain to her body.
‘It’s forbidden for you to enter the sacred ground. You are not a shifter.’ Bear removed his long, dark coat as he stepped into the warmth of his family home.
She went to respond, but the magnificence of the hallway took her by surprise.
Witch magick lit the square space, showcasing portraits lining the walls, a crimson rug beneath their feet, walnut furnishings close to arched doorways, and an inglenook fireplace just before the wide stairway leading up to a landing with swirled wooden banisters overlooking the entrance to the castle.
The scent of pine and earth filled the air, and two tall stone statues of men holding swords flanked the large front door.
A young woman came out of a doorway, freckles covering her smiley face.
‘My lord, you’re home. I’m so pleased.’ She curtsied, and Scarlen wondered if she was expected to do the same at times.
The thought had her bite back her laugh, as her father would surely explode if his daughter curtsied to anyone but him.
‘It’s good to see you, Mari. Please see to it everyone is settled.’
Mari took his coat as though it were an honour to do so. ‘Everything is in order, my lord.’ She held out her hand towards Scarlen. ‘Your coat, miss?’
Your Royal Highness, if you want to be formal about things. ‘Thank you,’ said Scarlen, handing over her coat, suppressing her amusement at Bear’s high status. He had an air about him in prison, and now she could see quite clearly where that came from.
Raven was already walking up the stairs with Wynter, and Elbar had long vanished, so Scarlen quietly followed Bear to his bedchamber, perusing the paintings of stern faces and intricate gowns along the way.
She glanced at her own attire. All black, tight but breathable.
Hopefully, more outfits would be on offer, as the last time she felt she looked herself was back at the palace.
The thought of home rattled her insides, as at some point her father would come for her, north or not. Bear had no idea the type of man the king was, or perhaps he did know. After all, he was made to witness the cruelty of his mother’s death.
Bear brought Scarlen to a halt in front of his mother’s portrait, Ranola’s hair so long and light, the same tawny eyes as Wynter, but a taller, wider frame, strong, fierce, her stare alone seeming to bore into Scarlen’s soul. ‘This was just after she married my father.’
‘She’s beautiful.’ And I can feel her hate. It felt so wrong to stand there in his home, in front of his mother, and hold her secret so close. ‘Bear, I have to tell you something.’
His head dipped. ‘Not now, Scars. Tomorrow.’
Before she could agree or disagree, she hadn’t decided, he led her into his chamber, the large, dark, four-poster bed catching her eye first.
‘I know you have things to share with me, but I don’t have the energy to hear them,’ he added, sitting on a chaise longue to remove his boots. He glanced up as her fingertips traced over the peach-coloured wallpaper. ‘There were times I never thought I’d see this place again.’
Scarlen’s heart went out to him as he sighed.
‘There’s a shift in the drawer there.’ He gestured at a tall dresser to her side. ‘Mari would have prepared the room for you too once word of your company got out.’
Scarlen opened the drawer and pulled out the cream garment. ‘Thank you.’
‘We need to sleep.’
She understood. He was exhausted. She was too, and she couldn’t think about making love to him with so much hanging over her. His mother’s ghost, for one.
He removed his clothes and got into bed. ‘I’ll probably be gone by the time you wake. Dress how you wish and go to the dining room. I’ll see you there.’ He pointed at the armoire first, then the door.
Scarlen changed into the shift, glad to be rid of the fitted trousers and boots, then snuggled to his side.
That much she felt comfortable enough to do.
Bear held her close, placing a kiss upon her head, and she closed her eyes, hoping it wouldn’t be the last time he touched her, because when she told him her truth in the morning, he might just hate her forever.
The wind whipped up, rattling the window, and Scarlen visualised the ghost of Ranola banging on the window, cursing her.
‘Bear,’ she whispered, huddling closer.
His arm was secure around her. ‘It’s all right, Scars, you’re safe. You’re safe.’
Still, she stayed wide awake while he slept soundly, her body tense, her heart hiding, the wind scratching at the window, tormenting, warning, unforgiving. It’s just a snowstorm, she told herself over and over until she could keep her eyes open no more.