Chapter 14
One morning, it hit me we’d been on the road for just over three weeks, and aside from a run-in with a rabid wolf and an aggressive bear a few days later, we hadn’t had any troublesome encounters.
Those skirmishes allowed me to catch a glimpse of how the men were using their fighting skills, and I had to admit that I was impressed.
Behind me, Dion was more tense than usual. When I turned around to meet his eyes, his jaw worked, and he glowered at me in the way I knew so well by now.
“What?”
“We’re about to reach the border of Marsia.”
“Is that a problem? I thought that was the plan.”
Instead of answering my question, Dion raised his voice so the others could hear him as well. “Let’s take a quick rest.”
The group came to a stop, and within moments, Dion hauled me off the horse. He handed his reins to Ireas without a word, grabbed my hand, and hauled me away from the group. “We need to talk, Jama.”
Ah, there it was. I knew something was up, even though I had no clue what was bothering Dion today. The other men’s lack of reaction suggested they were aware of what he had in mind, as no one complained about the sudden break. Curious.
I nodded to Dion, and he stopped when we were out of earshot. He still observed me closely with that special glower he’d reserved exclusively for me, and the silence began to feel oppressive.
“Spit it out.”
More silence.
“Dion. Did you interrupt our ride just to gawk at me?” Sometimes, poking at him would relax him, but today it was the wrong call to make as he tensed up even more. So, whatever bothered him was something he hated.
“We’ll arrive at the border soon. I don’t have to tell you how risky crossing it will be.
Because, well…Antas and Ireas had found several posters in the last two towns when stopping for supplies.
The good news is that the artist who has sketched your portrait is rather talentless.
But, on the flip side—as we feared—you’ve been declared on the run, and there’s money on your head. A significant amount.”
“You should have told me earlier.”
“It’s inconsequential to you. You can trust me with your safety, so why should you even care?”
I frowned. Dion believed what he said. The world he lived in was one of his own making, one in which he considered himself to be the pinnacle of creation.
There, not only was everything under his control all the time, but he was the monarch and the kingdom, and well, he could do no wrong.
And subsequently, it was completely irrelevant to me whether I knew about a bounty on my head or not.
He’d decided that since he was protecting me, a future where I’d be captured was simply not possible.
What would it be like to believe in such a world and that this was your own role in it?
To be that self-confident? Not that I doubted his capabilities, but realistically, not everyone was aware that they existed in Dion’s fantasy world and knew that they had to surrender in front of some overconfident dictator who was running the show.
For a moment, I marveled at how well I could read Dion after just a few weeks, but then again, it didn’t take a genius to understand that he had a major superiority complex.
“Well, fair, I can accept that.” Once again, I had to choose my battles and decide how to deal with him. In the end, playing along was better than the headache that trying to fix his strange worldview would bring.
“Fig wants us to pass the border into Marsia like regular travelers. It’s a risk, but he thinks there’s a good chance we can traverse the control without issues.”
“I see. Do you want me to change my appearance? I could do something with my hair—there are ways to alter the color. I’ve seen sinsirberries around.
If you squash them, then boil the pulp into a thick paste, and apply the mixture to your hair for an hour, you’ll get an intense ginger color that will last for weeks.
” Well, at least according to Rewi, who had always been sad that this trick wouldn’t work on her dark hair.
Would ginger suit me? Pondering, I sneaked another glance at Dion.
The usual muscle in his cheek ticked suspiciously.
“No.”
“Why not? It might help.”
“No.”
“Dion—” I couldn’t suppress an exasperated groan. His habit of replying with one-word answers was driving me crazy.
“Fig raised a significant point. You’re an adult woman traveling with five males. If they don’t recognize you from the posters, there’s a chance the authorities will arrest you anyway to find out if you ran away from your guardian.”
Shit. Suspicions about what this little chat was about tightened my throat. “I could pass for Antas’ or Fig’s daughter.” I was glowering at Dion. If he thought I’d cooperate easily, he was in for a surprise.
“I suggested the same, but Fig was opposed to the idea. You’re very obviously an adult, and one of them claiming you as their daughter could at least cause an investigation to find out if it’s true. You don’t have enough mutual history to answer questions about your past.”
“Then we’ll fabricate a story and learn it.”
“There isn’t enough time left, and we want to avoid an interrogation at any cost.”
As much as I hated his reasoning, I couldn’t deny that he was correct. That happened far too often for my taste. “So, what’s the alternative, Dion?”
In contrast to his usually fluid motions, the way he reached for the small satchel hanging from his belt was wooden. As if controlled from the outside, he handed me the small pouch. “Believe me, I probably hate this more than you.”
“If it’s what I’m thinking, you’ll be most likely wrong about that.” Taking hold of the satchel, I was convinced I already knew what it held and frowned at the small bag. “I have to be the property of one of you? Like a slave?”
“No. Fuck, how can you think anyone would go for a story like that? I detest the laws that limit females to mere objects, but I absolutely despise slavery.”
His eyes blazed with fire, and my treacherous heart fluttered. I had no clue that he cared so much about this topic, but I was glad he did and that not all of my prejudices turned out to be reality. “Then tell me what plan you men came up with.”
“Jama, you’re going to be my wife.” Dion’s deep voice had a hard edge to it, and he was obviously preparing himself for a discussion.
And I wouldn’t disappoint him. The suggestion of playing Dion’s wife was so absurd that I snorted in derision. “Why do we have to pretend to be married? Can’t you just be a crew of bodyguards bringing me to my intended?”
“In that case, you’d travel in a coach.”
“Then, in the gods’ good names, let’s get one.”
Dion just grimaced at me as if I was speaking nonsense. “I can’t even honor such idiocy with an answer.”
“The real idiocy is the idea of us pretending to be a married couple. We can barely tolerate each other on the best of days.” Sure, I was exaggerating.
And yes, it was true, Dion and I got off to a rocky start, but after we’d traveled together for a while, we mostly got along if I disregarded the way he constantly drove me insane.
And besides, there were enough men and women connected in matrimony who despised each other, which made my argument even flimsier, and from the dangerous glint in Dion’s eyes, I could tell he was thinking the same and considering whether to make a sarcastic remark or not.
“Believe me, I’ve tried to find another way. I despise the idea of faking a genuine bond between two people. But Fig was adamant.”
I eyed Dion and sensed there was more to it, but I was far too annoyed to pry further.
Instead, I opened the satchel and peered inside to look at the jewelry.
The silver choker I found was simple and showcased no gems or jewels, which was at least a small relief.
Stomaching an ostentatious piece would have been an impossibility for me, that much was certain.
However, the choker was inconspicuous, and the only decorative element on it was an engraved design of tiny leaves to the left and right of the center.
The matching husband’s bracelet had the same engraved pattern circling its middle in a single line. If I hadn’t felt violated only by looking at the jewelry, I would have liked its appearance.
Dion should be glad, though, that the piece wasn’t lockable. Nothing short of divine intervention would ever make me wear one of those again. Yet, one question spun on a loop in my mind. “Why are you carrying wedding jewelry around?”
“Because Fig bought it a few days ago. You’re probably the only one who didn’t see this coming.” Dion shrugged, and he massaged his forehead as he glared at the jewelry in my hand.
Somehow, his apparent dissatisfaction made the whole situation a little more bearable.
“Then let’s get this over with.” I finally caved and opened the clasp of the silver band, trying to hide how tight my chest had become.
“No. Let me.” Dion quickly pried the choker out of my trembling hands, which froze in position as if I was still holding on to the piece of jewelry. Ignoring the fact that I squeezed my eyelids shut, he stepped closer to me.
More gently than expected, he placed only his fingertips on my paralyzed upper arms, and his soft touch guided me into movement until my back was turned to him.
Dion’s barely there grip turned into a tighter contact between his hands and my tense shoulders. The hold he had on me wasn’t painful but secure, as if he needed to ensure I wouldn’t bolt at the slightest movement.
I was completely caught off guard by his unexpected demeanor and did nothing to resist any of it. His actions were so different from when my mother had locked Jelric’s choker around my neck, and yet the unwanted memories invaded my reality and merged into something surreal.
“Shh, Nayana. Come back to me. The past is no place for you anymore. We’ll replace whatever you’re remembering with something better, alright?”