Chapter Twenty
Avari
‘So you think this is the leaf-encrusted dome from the prophecy? Not to sound pessimistic, but this is a spruce forest. No leaves here…’ I questioned him, watching as his ears retracted faintly when he observed our surroundings. Always looking out for signs of trouble.
The birds whistled their eager morning songs, creating a lively atmosphere that tickled my witchly senses, and I couldn’t understand where he suspected danger. The surroundings… I felt at peace.
Diligent or paranoid, labelling the King of Fogoya was a difficult task.
‘It’s a mixed forest. One of many that fit the description. We’re looking for one with beasts that pose danger at night, right? I thought we might start with the mildest option.’
My blood pressure spiked at his suggestion. Was he sheltering me from the big bad ones? ‘Is that why we started with the second prophecy? The first Crone was supposed to dwell in sultry lands, where every breath is airless and every step unsteady.’
His amber eyes assessed me like whatever I said troubled him. ‘I’ve sent my soldiers to search some of these lands. They’re… intense.’
‘For you or for me?’
The silence stretched uncomfortably before he pleaded, ‘Let’s just allow them to search these lands before we go there, okay? They’re intense for everyone; that’s why barely anyone lives there.’
Light rain started to tap against the thick branches above us, creating a precious lullaby, and my tired body demanded a nap.
The rollercoaster of emotions the past few weeks was taking its toll, even if, against better judgement, my body appreciated having him near last night and allowed me to get some rest. Having my mind let up was a welcome reprieve.
A yawn escaped me, and River’s intense mood eased up instantly.
‘Intense for everyone except for the Crone, apparently. Why they would choose such odd places to live is beyond me. Are these sultry lands like Volcano Lands?’
‘People live around volcanoes, where my grandparents live,’ he explained, gesturing toward a small hill that didn’t resemble one at all. ‘I think the Crone might live in one of the inactive ones on the east side of the kingdom. It’s more secluded.’
‘In an inactive volcano?’ I raised my voice in surprise, and he grinned.
Shaking a nearby branch to drench me in soft droplets, he eventually admitted his worry, ‘I hope it’s one of the inactive ones, Ava. For all of our sake.’
We walked ahead, and I admired the moment the coniferous forest turned mixed, and massive oak trees fought for space among the spruce. Scattered around, the scenery looked like a beautiful oil painting I could analyse for hours.
Giving myself a moment, I stopped by a thick tree and allowed my energy to mingle with the place’s essence. It was benevolent but remained wary, like it had been mistreated before. My green whined, but I wouldn’t pressure these creatures into something they didn’t care for.
‘Wouldn’t it be a little too convenient for us if both of them lived in Fogoya?’ I voiced what he surely must have considered already.
River nodded absentmindedly. ‘I’m pretty sure the sultry lands refer to our kingdom. As for the leaf-encrusted dome with beasts, it very well might be the Earth Kingdom.’
This was where the matters complicated. ‘You’re political allies with the Earth, right? Will you ask the king to let us search there?’
The way I phrased the question bothered me the second it left my mouth. It was like I expected him to join me in the search permanently when we only agreed to work together in Fogoya.
Spending time with him like this, it was becoming too easy to think beyond his betrayal. It was too easy to trust him again when it already proved a grave mistake—and I hated myself for it.
‘Otis is a friend. We don’t need to ask permission,’ River claimed, observing me with curiosity.
Could he sense my inner turmoil? Or did he assume I found him unlikely to have friends? There were an awful lot of assumptions between us, but I decided to play along, making my tone stunned when I asked, ‘A friend?’
‘You know, when you find someone you like to talk to and relate to,’ River laughed at my perplexed expression.
‘It’s just difficult to believe that monarchs can actually be pals,’ I said, referring to my mother’s behaviour and psychopathic tendencies.
But upon further consideration, I decided the man before me had some too, only a different brand.
A smug grin spread across his face. ‘Because we’re all so self-absorbed?’
The way his face lit up made him look way too distracting. The king needed to be taken down a peg before his ego inflated beyond our platonic agreement.
‘If the shoe fits,’ I said, enjoying his barely registerable scowl.
‘You’re a princess, though,’ he shot back. ‘Wouldn’t this logic imply you’re egocentric too?’
Kicking a loose rock in his direction, I wished for it to hit his shin, but it never did. My aim was for shit. ‘I probably am.’
‘No. You’re not,’ he countered with his lips pursed into a tight line. His mood swings were worse than mine.
I considered it. ‘Compared to the common people I am.’
‘And compared to other royals I know, you’re a saint,’ he claimed, walking by my side.
‘Or a bore,’ Anya grunted.
‘Don’t you have a crush to pester?’
‘I have no such—’ she roared, and I kicked her out.
The sting of their words was an uncomfortable feeling. ‘Yes, several people have mentioned I am uptight. It’s just who I am.’
River ran a hand over his face, shaking his head before addressing me, ‘Nothing wrong with that. I didn’t mean to insult you; I only meant to say that you have morals, which is a pleasant change from the surrounding depravity.’
‘Oh.’ That was unexpected. ‘Thanks.’
‘People call you uptight?’ he grilled, as anger shimmered in his eyes behind the mask of calmness.
I was either getting better at reading people or reading him, the possibility of the latter being more disturbing.
Some time ago, he said if he hadn’t been crowned, he’d open a forgery. I thought with the way he hid from truth, theatre would have suited him way better.
‘Everyone I know thinks I’m uptight,’ I said, meeting his gaze head-on. ‘It’s not a secret.’
‘Who?’
Letting out a loud exhale, I gave in. ‘Alec, my father, Emily, even Willow. And you.’
His wide shoulders tensed as his face fell. I looked fascinated before he caught my gaze. ‘I only ever said it as a joke.’
'The truth is I agree,’ I admitted. ‘I’m trying to work on it.’
Still on edge, he tried his best not to show it. ‘Really? How?’
Was there even much to say? ‘It’s more of a mental process. I’m trying not to dwell on the negatives too much.’
‘And it’s working?’ he asked.
‘To some extent. Having Miriam book me a therapist appointment when I told her I like to overthink my problems until they vanish was… an experience.’
The corners of River’s mouth lifted slightly as if what he just heard pleased him. ‘Did you go?’
Did he also think I needed therapy? Touché. ‘I did, but only to give her peace of mind since she has too much on her plate as it is. That wedding is killing her.’
‘It seems you don’t want her to marry him. Why?’
I rolled my eyes. ‘He’s not the right fit for her. She’s so compassionate and enthusiastic about everything, and he’s like a chewed-up oatmeal.’
‘Ouch.’ River’s soft laughter echoed through the open space, tickling my senses, and I did my best to ignore the feeling.
‘It’s the truth,’ I defended my words, lightly punching his shoulder. The amber in his eyes lit up before he flashed me a shy smile, as though the soft touch meant more to him than it should.
I looked away before I, too, got lost in him and his warm gaze. ‘There are better options out there. And despite her cynical approach, she dreams of a mate.’
‘There definitely are,’ he said, utterly convinced. ‘These things tend to work themselves out without much external intervention, maybe just give her time. Why is she in the rush to marry anyway?’
How much could I say without being a bad sister? ‘Miriam dreams of a family of her own.’
River’s eyebrows shot up like he wouldn’t predict that in the wildest of dreams. ‘Kids?’
‘Yes.’ I responded, curious about his reaction. How was eagerness to have children such a shock?
‘Fae don’t usually have age-related fertility issues; she should be fine.’
Touching the rough bark of a fallen tree, I defended Miriam’s actions, ‘I don’t think it’s that. It’s just something she wants, you know?’
‘Yeah,’ he whispered.
Oh, oh… I hoped kids weren’t a touchy subject for him, but the way he dimmed was unmistakable. 'Besides, there is something off about that Luke. Like he doesn’t care about her at all.’
‘That’s sad. A real man would bring the world to their partner—’ he started, gazing into my widening eyes before a bird released its bowels on his shirt.
Talk about great timing. Platonic must have been crossed off from his dictionary because it sounded dangerously close to some sort of declaration.
‘Shit,’ he yelped as I laughed at his attempts to wipe it off.
‘Literally.’