14. Lilias
Lilias
THANK THE GODS
The sun is setting.
I’ve tried to ignore that reality for as long as I could, but there’s no denying it now.
The fiery ball of the sun balances on the far horizon for a heartbeat, and then begins to sink behind the jagged teeth of the mountains.
And we’re close to the hunting lodge. But not quite close enough to make it before dark.
“Damn it,” I mutter, gritting my teeth against the stab of pain from the blister on my right foot.
My brave little mare from Dungal started limping this afternoon, as we dropped down from the Tanic Pass. After all she’s been through, it just didn’t seem fair. So I’ve been walking next to her for hours, trying to ignore the growing burn on my heel from the boots I’d thought fit me perfectly.
I glance at Zarek. He insisted on walking too, although his gelding is still sound. He said he wanted a break from horses, but honestly, I think he’s doing it just so I’ll have some company for my misery.
Zarek turns to me, like he can sense my gaze on his shoulders. “Do you want me to have a look at your foot?” he asks.
I stand up straighter and try not to limp so obviously.
“I’m fine,” I lie. “I’m sure it’s nothing a hot bath can’t solve.”
“As long as the tub can fit both of us,” Zarek replies with a grin.
It takes me a moment to catch his meaning, and when I do, I gasp. He laughs softly, and the stabbing pain in my heel briefly vanishes as I imagine sharing a bath with Zarek, hot, perfumed water running down his chest, wrapping my legs around his waist as he—
A horse calls from the woods ahead of us, a long, sharp whinny, and my fantasy evaporates. Beside me, Zarek pulls his dagger from its sheath.
“Get on my horse,” he growls, waving his hand at his gelding without taking his eyes off the road.
“I’m not leaving you,” I say.
“Just do it,” he says through gritted teeth. “Please.”
The sound of hoofbeats swells in the air. I get on Zarek’s gelding. He’s nervous, and I don’t blame him.
But when the riders come into view, they aren’t wearing the blue and scarlet of Vsenrog. Thank the gods. I exhale slowly as they surround us, and then one of them pushes his hood back.
“Princess Lilias,” he says with a grin. “Gods, it’s good to see you.”
“Owain!” I cry, greeting the man who was locked in Marion’s dungeons with me.
I push my horse forward and embrace him, awkwardly, from my saddle.
“How did you get out of the dungeon?” I ask.
His smile vanishes. “Bertyl let me out,” he says. “Once they heard the Vsenrog army was coming, everyone left the castle.”
My mouth falls open, even as some part of me realizes this shouldn’t be a surprise. My father is dead. Of course Vsenrog took the castle. Marion has truly fallen.
“Left?” I ask. “Where did they go?”
Owain shrugs. “Some of them came here,” he says, tilting his head down the narrow, overgrown road that leads to the abandoned hunting camp. “Anura’s mother has them planting a garden.”
“They’re planning on staying, then,” Zarek adds, in a low voice.
Owain gives him a dirty look, but Zarek is right. If this were a temporary retreat, no one would be planting a garden.
My eyes sting, and I swallow hard. I remember the man who rode his horse up to us in the mountains and welcomed us to the Kingdom of Dungal. It was a joke, a sad, terrible joke. Their entire kingdom was just another small town hidden in the mountains.
Is that what’s going to happen to Marion? Our entire kingdom reduced to an abandoned hunting camp?
No. Gods, of course not. I shake my head, trying to knock that thought out of my mind. We still have the other allied kingdoms. Zarek mentioned an alliance between Elrick and one of the Kingdom of Lisal’s unmarried princesses, which is what the Council of Mayors wanted even before the war.
And we have Ethiria. Vsenrog pulled them into this war, even if they don’t know it yet. They’ll be our allies out of necessity, if nothing else.
I clear my throat, then turn to Owain. “I need to see my brother,” I tell him. “Immediately.”
Owain and his men trade horses with us, and two of his scouts lead us to the hunting camp. Every part of my body aches by the time we reach the lights of the camp; I try not to whimper as I dismount. The horse I rode pants and snorts, foamy with sweat from our run. I scratch him behind the ears.
“Nice work, Acorn,” I whisper.
At least they brought the horses with them when they fled the castle. It’s like seeing my friends again, recognizing the horses from Marion’s stables.
Zarek dismounts beside me. One of the scouts who led us here looks at Zarek like he’s trying to determine exactly how much of a threat my husband is, and damn it, we don’t have time for that stupid posturing. I put my hand on Zarek’s arm and face the scout.
“Take us to the prince,” I say.
The scout leads us into the common room. I freeze in the doorway.
“Gods above,” I whisper.
Owain said some of the people from the palace came here.
But, from what I can tell, the entire palace of Marion is crammed into this common room.
Every table is full, and the buzz of dozens of separate conversations fills the room.
I see grooms from the stables, chefs and bakers, and a handful of my father’s guards.
Even my father’s clothier is here, sitting next to a groom half his age who looks deliriously enchanted with him.
Zarek nudges me, and I realize the scout has already started threading his way through the room. I follow him, numbly nodding and smiling as people rush forward to greet me. I try to avoid the hugs, but there’s only so much I can do to escape them.
Finally, we reach the far side of the common room.
Elrick and Anura are sitting together at the end of one of the benches, near the kitchen.
Elrick still has a bandage on his arm, but he’s not nearly as pale as he was when I left.
They both come to their feet as we approach.
Elrick rushes forward, but I hold up my hands to stop him.
“We need to talk,” I say. “Now.”
Elrick hugs me anyway.
“Thank the gods you’re alive,” he says in a hoarse whisper.
Anura hugs me after that, with tears in her eyes. And then, finally, we climb the stairs to the room at the top of the lodge.
It’s filled with sleeping rolls. I blink at the chaos of blankets and trunks spread across the floor as I follow Elrick to the desk that’s been shoved against the wall.
“We’re a little short on space,” Elrick says with a grin. “So my men-at-arms are staying here.”
He’s limping now, although he’s trying to hide it.
Whatever injuries he suffered when he and his men were attacked by Vsenrog, he still hasn’t fully recovered.
He sinks into a chair with a sigh, and Anura hands him a mug of something that smells like willow bark tea.
The door opens behind us and Gerard walks in.
After another round of hugging where everyone thanks the gods I’m still alive and no one even looks at Zarek, Elrick asks us to sit.
We do. Suddenly, I’m strangely nervous. My fingers twist in my lap as my brother leans forward.
“What happened?” he asks.
I swallow hard. Then I open my mouth and tell him how our father died.