We slowly meander through the village, and everywhere we go, people smile, wave, or stop to talk to us. Here, there are no titles, no obligations. Just life. Simple and free.
Eira takes it all in, her eyes softening as she looks up at me. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
I swallow, the weight of it all pressing down on me. “There’s no one else I could have wanted to know about this place, no other person I would have wanted to see this side of me.” I take a deep breath. “No one else I would’ve trusted.”
She’s silent for a moment, then leans into me, her exhaustion showing again. I gently guide her back toward the house, my hand resting on her shoulder.
“I have to go to Larethia tomorrow; I should have arrived yesterday,” I remind her, my tone gentle but firm. “And I want you to stay here. You’re not ready to travel yet.”
She raises an eyebrow, a teasing smile on her lips. “You can try that, but when you come back, I’ll have stolen a horse and followed you.”
I can’t help but laugh, shaking my head, not doubting her for a moment. “I should have you thrown into a dungeon.”
“You mean the ones watched by the King’s Guards? And captained by my dear friend, Mathis?” she teases.
I growl, knowing that he does indeed have a soft spot for her. “He’s supposed to bemydear friend, Mathis.”
Gently poking me in the ribs, she teases, “Oh, he is. Until he has to choose between us.”
I shake my head with a laugh. “Well, consider thatargument settled. Fine, you can come with me tomorrow. But for now, you need to rest. You’re not getting out of that.”
“Of course, I’ll go lie down on the bed, my prince. Anything you say, my prince,” she giggles, with a cheeky glint in her eye. And I have to remind myself that she’s still healing and not quite ready to do “anything I say” just yet.
But for her, I can wait.
For her, I can do anything.
FORTY-FOUR
Eirabella
A weekafter returning from our trip, we’re lying in his bed, in the aftermath ofmaking the most of my full recovery. His voice, deep and reassuring, fills the space between us as he talks about my training.
“Selene is going to bank on overpowering you whenever she can,” he says, fingers tracing idle circles on my arm. Together we stare out the open window at the almost full moon, one of our favourite joint pastimes. “She doesn’t realise that strategy is what will win the longest battles. And make no mistake, stamina will matter. You’ll do best redirecting her force, not countering it.”
“You calling me a weakling, Your Highness?” I tease, nipping at the taut skin of his obscenely sculptured chest.
He drops a kiss on the top of my head. “I saw you take out a whole band of assailants by dumping a lake on top of their heads. I’d be stupid to call you weak.”
“And don’t you forget it. There’s a glass of water right there, and I have no qualms about doing a reenactmentright now,” I joke, but still absorb every word he’s saying. He knows my power as well as I do. If he’s going to suggest something, I’m going to listen.
But before I can respond, a sharp, insistent knock at the door shatters the calm.
“Rylan!” Mathis’s voice booms from the other side.
Rylan groans and lays back on the bed, his body going limp. “Go away, Mathis!” he calls out, “unless you want Eirabella to dump a latrine on your head. Apparently she can do that now.”
I stifle a giggle and reach my hand under the blanket, feeling for him.
There’s a pause, and then Mathis speaks again, his voice lower but carrying a weight that makes my pulse spike. “I actually think that skill might come in handy. You both need to come out right now. It looks like the rebels didn’t want to wait until Solstice after all.”
In an instant, the air is sucked out of the room. Rylan’s eyes harden, the playfulness replaced by the sharp, focused gaze of a leader ready for battle. Since we came home from the trip, he’s been more on edge with each day that we get closer to the final trial, as if he’s been anticipating an attack. And now, here it is.
Rylan’s movements are quick, decisive. I move off his chest so that he can swing his long legs out of the bed and pull on his robe in one fluid motion. “Report,” he commands, as soon as he’s wrenched the door open.
Mathis steps into the room, only glancing at me for a second, the strain on his face only serving to further stoke my worry. Mathis was chosen to lead the guard for a reason. Neither he nor Rylan have a cowardly bone in their body. If Mathis is concerned, all Morath’s hell is about to break loose. “The first line of defence has already fallen. The bridges have been raised, but they’d already infiltrated the North Tower. They’ve brought Strength wielders and are building ramps to cross the rivers at the East and South Towers.”
“How many casualties?”
