“I’m not leaving Trova without something to go back with,” I say firmly.
It’s not that I think I’m the best man for the job. I’m good with problems I can swing a sword at, not this tangled mess. But turning away before I have a solution feels like admitting defeat. And I willnotadmit defeat. Not with this. No matter what I have to do.
“But—”
“The conversation is over.” My soldiers nod, and I rise to find a room where I can get some sleep.
“Hyllus, take first watch,” I say. “Listen out for the barn, and tell me if the princess wakes. Tomorrow, we ride for Hallowbane…”
…and for the answer I so desperately need.
Chapter21
Morgana
Gods, do things look different in the light of day. Not Leon, of course. The Nightmare Prince is exactly the same obscenely handsome, gray-eyed fae I fought with yesterday. But in the shadows of the night and the privacy of the barn, it felt right doingotherthings with him.
Now that we’re back on our horses, heading to the border, I look back on what we did and wonder if I lost my mind. I keep feeling his eyes on me, but I can’t bring myself to meet them. Not when my mind keeps conjuring up graphic flashes of his mouth on me while I moan his name.
I try to focus on the scenery around me instead, letting it distract me from my unhelpful thoughts. We’re south of the Wirstones now, leaving the mountains behind, and I expect us to turn east toward the border. But about an hour into our journey, we hit a crossroads, and the fae unit keep riding straight, southward, rather than turning left.
“Is this a shortcut, like the mountains?” I ask Alastor when I ride up beside him.
He sighs, like I’ve just placed a large burden on him.
“No,” he says, not meeting my gaze.
“Then why aren’t we heading east?” I press.
“You’re not going to like it,” he says, instead of answering. I look to Leon, my annoyance mounting. I try to speed up to join him where he’s riding at the front of the unit, but I can’t get my pony to move fast enough to catch him up, no matter how many times I nudge her with my heels. Finally, frustrated, I call out, “Leon!”
Half a dozen fae soldiers turn around to look at me. Leon brings his horse to a halt.
“What is it?” he asks.
“Why aren’t we going east?” I demand.
“We will, eventually. But we have business in Hallowbane first.”
My jaw drops at the mention of the city. “Why on earth would we be going there? And when were you going to tell me?” I can feel the fae around me throwing looks to each other, but I ignore them. After all, none of them had their hands up my skirt last night—this is between me and their captain.
“The business we have there doesn’t concern you,” Leon says with a shrug.
“You liar,” I hurl at him. “You said we were going straight to the border. You said once we were there, you’d release me.”
He waves his hand dismissively. “Plans change. This is just a detour,” he says.
“Oh, well that’s fine then,” I say, in a tone so loaded with sarcasm I can see Stratton trying to hide a smile. Good, let him enjoy watching his precious prince get raked over the coals. “It’s not like I need my freedom anytime soon. I’m only on the run from half the fucking country who think I’m a murderer, and in hiding from the other half who think I’m a gods-damned heretic!”
I maneuver my pony back around. It doesn’t go as smoothly as I’d like, but I’m able to turn my back on him and return to the rear of the group. I hear Damia speak to Phaia as I pass.
“I’ve never heard a princess talk like that before,” she snickers. I pull my chin up, addressing her.
“They must not make very good royals where you’re from,” I say pointedly, looking back at Leon. “Very disappointing, I’d imagine.”
None of the fae mind me insulting their leader, and some of them chuckle until Leon growls at them. Actually growls. We continue on in silence for a while. The lack of chatter doesn’t help my mood. I fume for the next few hours over Leon breaking his promises to me, especially when he was so eager to get to the border a few days ago. He didn’t ever bother to tell me. He just did it, without a thought about me.
And why should he think of you? You’re just his hostage, after all.
