Chapter Four – Scarlett
Chapter Four
Scarlett
I closed my eyes, revelling in the sensation of the wind whipping through my hair and the feeling that I was leaving the entire world far behind.
‘Faster,’ I instructed, raising my voice to be heard over the pounding of the horse’s hooves. Sand plumed behind us under the starry night sky.
I couldn’t see Aric’s face, but I suspected he was grinning. The Zigilian stallion lunged forward, propelled to new speeds. My hands tightened around Aric’s waist, hanging on for dear life.
As we galloped through the red dunes, I thought that few things could match this. For a handful of glorious seconds, I was truly free.
‘Faster,’ I said again, letting out an exhilarated gasp that neither of us heard.
I wanted to reach a speed fast enough to leave reality behind. I wanted to forget all about General Harte and the officers waiting for me to fail. I wanted to forget Roran and Zandri and my guilt around Severin’s disappearance.
I wanted to forget everything .
‘Easy there, princess,’ Aric called over his shoulder, amusement thick in his voice.
‘I didn’t think of you as the cautious type,’ I retorted, leaning in until my lips were against the back of his neck.
He chuckled, but the horse was already slowing. I glanced back as we reached the crest of a dune. The Ravalian camp was no longer visible except for the faint glow of fire torches – pinpricks of light from here. They reminded me of fireflies.
Aric slid off the stallion and reached up for me. I allowed him to help me down, his hands steady on my waist. The warmth of his body settled against mine as my boots sank into the sand. I gazed up into Aric’s golden-brown eyes, conscious of how close we were.
‘Thank you,’ I said, softer than I’d intended. ‘I needed that.’
‘My pleasure,’ Aric said, flashing his teeth in a smile. ‘I’m here if you ever need a distraction.’
It sounded like an invitation for a different kind of distraction. I tilted my head, considering him in the moonlight.
Like Severin, Aric seemed born for the Western sun, his skin having darkened to a deep brown. Two months of battle and death hadn’t dimmed the fierce energy about him.
Never again , I had told Aric the last time. But I had never been particularly good at practising restraint.
I tilted his chin to mine, not breaking eye contact.
This time, when I kissed him, it was with less finesse and more demand.
He didn’t seem to mind. His lips yielded to mine, his arms pulling me closer.
The desert breeze swirled around us, and as my hair broke free of its braid, so did something inside of me.
I pushed back against the weight of him, shameless in my want, my need , as I slid his tunic up. Aric pulled it over his head, until he was standing before me in nothing but those tight leather breeches. So tight they fitted him like a second skin, allowing me to see exactly how much he wanted me.
I ran my hands over the contoured muscles of his chest, tracing the long scar that ran from his sternum to his navel. My desire softened along with my hands, transforming into something else. Something close to tenderness.
‘I would do it again,’ Aric murmured against my lips. ‘In a heartbeat.’
My pulse quickened at his words even more than his bruising kiss. I had no doubt that he meant it. Aric had proven his devotion when he stepped in front of that swordsman for me. Shielding me with his own body.
And such devotion should be rewarded.
I pushed Aric onto the warm sand and rose to straddle him. Smiling with feline satisfaction at the look in his eyes, I kissed my way down the scar he had earned for me, revelling in the sound of his soft gasp.
But impatience was something we had in common. The desert heat ghosted over my bare skin as Aric shifted into a seated position, untying the strings of my blouse.
And then it was my turn to gasp. Fire spread across my icy skin, coaxed to life by his mouth – even as his fingers worked to remove the last barriers between us, until his skin was pressed against mine.
My legs wrapped around his waist, guiding him into me. Pleasure sparked between us, a flint turning into a flame, until I could barely think for how much I wanted this. Wanted him .
I let my head fall back, my worries along with it. I had done terrible things to get to this point.
But it was hard to regret my decisions when Aric was my reward.
I lingered on the dune for as long as I dared.
A stolen moment in time – that was what this was. Bittersweet and slightly too familiar.
But I allowed Aric to stroke my hair, even as my mind drifted to another moment. Another man.
At last, I said, ‘You know nothing can come of this. We can never have a real relationship.’
Aric’s fingers stilled in my hair. When he spoke, however, there was no anger in his voice – only amusement. ‘I don’t have any expectations, Scarlett. I certainly don’t have any designs on a crown.’
‘Well, that makes this easier,’ I drawled, but the smile quickly slid off my face. ‘What are you doing?’
‘We’ve stayed too long already,’ Aric said, standing.
I watched him, caught between irritation and admiration. Though it was dark, I hadn’t seen him completely naked before – and it was difficult not to look. Even more difficult not to act on all the things I still wanted to do with him. To him.
Aric smiled, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. But he merely offered me his hand.
I took it with an exasperated sigh. As I stood, I swept my hair back over my shoulder, allowing him the opportunity to admire me –
A wasted effort, it seemed. My eyes narrowed as I watched Aric hunt for our clothes.
‘The perils of sleeping with my personal guard, I suppose,’ I remarked, as I accepted my blouse and breeches from him.
Aric’s soft laugh was my only answer. But I felt the way his touch lingered as he helped me mount the horse.
A smile upturned my lips. Not all business after all.
The stallion snorted and tossed its head, impatient to return to camp. I didn’t share its eagerness, and I suspected that Aric didn’t either. Neither of us pushed the horse to go faster than a smooth canter.
I was close enough to Aric that I felt him stiffen.
My eyes searched the blackness, though I already knew what had captured his attention.
Every night, under the cover of darkness, a long line of carts carried bodies out into the desert – where Ravalian soldiers were buried with respect, and Zigilian soldiers were left exposed to the elements.
It was an unnecessary cruelty that both Aric and I had argued against, but our opinions had been dismissed.
The carts were little more than dark smudges, making it difficult to see the piles of bodies.
Still, I could feel them: there were so many that, even from a distance, I could sense the presence of death.
Oddly enough, I could sense the carrion birds too.
They were native to the Western Lands – skeletal birds with bright red talons and a maw of razor-sharp teeth.
As we rode past, the metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth. It should have been repulsive, but I was used to it. My affinity for death had grown since bringing Lillian back to life.
My tent came into view, visible thanks to its torches and the guards stationed outside. We slowed to a trot, and then to a walk. Aric nodded to my guards as he pulled back on the reins.
Courteous as ever, he dismounted first and lifted me down from the saddle. I reluctantly stepped out of his arms, but my eyes remained on his. With my father dead, and Roran in Kalure, there was no one to punish Aric if I invited him to spend the night in my tent.
Stay . That was all I needed to say, and for an instant, I considered it. The strength of my own yearning caught me by surprise.
But the flickering fire cast strange shadows on Aric’s face, and I knew who that yearning was really for. Sometimes it was a little too easy to pretend he was Severin.
‘Goodnight, Aric.’ I softened the dismissal with a smile.
I opened the flap of my tent. The interior was lit with torches and covered with cushions. But the desk in the middle of the space was already occupied.
Avril glanced up at my arrival. We hadn’t spoken since after my meeting with General Harte, when she had warned me that I couldn’t kill him. I understood her reasons, but unless she provided me with another alternative, I wouldn’t have a choice.
Thankfully, it seemed she was here to give me one.
‘You found something?’
‘More of the usual.’ Avril gestured to the table. ‘I made copies. I knew you would want to see them.’
The latest message from Roran to General Harte was short and to the point:
Continue stalling. Contain the insurgents but don’t defeat them. I’ll deal with them upon my return.
–R
‘He doesn’t mention me this time,’ I said with a wry smile. ‘No “well done making Scarlett look incompetent in the eyes of the army”. I thought he’d take the opportunity to gloat, since that was his goal all along.’
Avril didn’t laugh. She was the serious sort, but her single-minded focus would serve her well as the Zigilian governor. ‘After your meeting, General Harte composed a new message to Roran. I intercepted it before it could be sent. You might find it interesting.’
I glanced down at the message, written in General Harte’s blocky handwriting. Scarlett is getting restless. I’m worried she might return to the Ravalian Court if something isn’t done. How would you like me to proceed?
‘Can you imitate Roran’s handwriting?’ I asked.
‘One of the other Masks is skilled at creating forgeries.’
‘Perfect.’ For the first time all week, my smile was completely genuine. ‘I think it’s time we sent General Harte some orders of our own.’