“Not my business,” Tiern replied.
“It could be your business if you wanted. . . .” She bit her bottom lip. Vixie didn’t know what had gotten into her. It was like the more uninterested he was, the greater need she had to push for his notice. It was backward, really, but she couldn’t help herself.
Tiern’s mouth was set in a hard line. “You’re being terribly forward, Princess. I doubt your parents would approve.”
Vixie gave a mirthless laugh. “We both know what I am to my parents. A pretty jewel in their treasure chest. And not the biggest or most valuable gem, either. Not worthy of beingprivy to the important information. Not the future queen.”
Tiern’s eyes widened as he took her in, and for half a moment she thought she saw sympathy there, or perhaps understanding. Just as quickly he was closed off again, turning his head to the path as they passed the west commons.
“Are you angry at your brother for leaving?” Vixie blurted.
Tiern shifted, his face showing a gamut of emotions. “Nay. Though I suppose I’m angry at the circumstances under which he had to leave.”
“Because Lord Alvi took the beast?”
Tiern slumped a bit, eyes glazing. “Aye. Along those lines.”
There. Right there in those words lay the mystery. Vixie stared at him, trying to figure out what piece of the puzzle she was missing.Along those lines.
“Why else did he go, then?”
Tiern gave a stiff shrug. “My brother was always a bit of a loner. I don’t pretend to fully understand him.”
She sensed more partial truths, and frustration bubbled.
“Why is it that nobody trusts me? You, Aerity, the rest of my family. Nobody thinks I’m capable of bearing the weight of the truth. I’m bloody tired of being given the mushroom treatment—kept in the dark and fed shite! Why is it? It’s because I let the Rocato woman go, isn’t it?” Her chin trembled as shame surged through her. How many days and nights had she spent reimagining that moment on the island whenshe had the woman at arrow point, when she let someone sneak up behind her? She’d been completely unaware. If only she had sensed the other person. She could have ended it all then and there, and proven herself to her parents and everyone who looked upon her as the silly, frivolous second daughter.
Tiern’s mouth popped open, and Vixie spurred her horse, moving ahead of him, hoping she wouldn’t cry.
“Vixie, wait!” Tiern trotted up beside her. “Stop, Princess. Please.”
She slowed, fidgeting with her gloves.
“Listen,” he said softly. “Paxton’s secrets are not mine to tell. But if ever I needed counsel, I know you are trustworthy. And brave. And able to help.” He clasped the back of his neck and winced, as if he’d said too much. And in that moment Vixie knew for certain Tiern was still inside that closed-off body, and he still cared for her. So what had changed? She couldn’t help but remember what he’d said . . . about the kisses, and that sour feeling of jealousy returned.
She peered up at him now, into his honest eyes.
“Tiern, when you returned home after the hunt, what happened to make your feelings toward me change? Did you . . . that is, was that when you kissed one of the lasses?”
“What?” He shook his head. “Nay. It has nothing to do with a lass. I’ve just had time to think and to see what’s happening in the lands. I realize now that a Lochlan princess should be with her own kind, even if it’s only for friendship.”
Vixie stared. “Own kind? We are both Lochlan. I don’tcare about the class differences. My mother was a commoner, as I’m certain you know. These things did not seem to hinder you from my company during the hunt. I can’t understand why they should now.”
He looked to the side, his jaw locked. Vixie wished she could see what burdened him so. His face . . . he seemed almost to have aged, the way his brow was in a constant furrow of worry. She wanted to climb across the expanse between them and sit in his lap, erasing those lines with kisses.
The thought shook her and she spouted a nervous laugh.
“What?” Tiern asked, tilting his head in curiosity at her sudden outburst.
“Nothing.” Her heart pounded.
He stared at her curiously as a strange sound rang out overhead. Vixie and Tiern both turned toward the castle. There it was again—a guttural cawing. Voices yelled from afar.
“What in the depths?” Tiern whispered. Vixie held her breath, listening. Tiern whipped his bow over his head and had an arrow nocked before she could blink.
Again came the caw, like a grand bird in peril, closer now. And then above the stone turrets flew the most enormous bird Vixie had ever seen. She’d grown up with all manner of gulls, herons, and hawks, but nothing like this. Its wings spanned at least a dozen feet. When it swooped lower over the west commons, she saw with horror that its body was as large as her own, with talons that could shred a man.
Its feral eyes were directed at the two of them, its face like a bat’s. Vixie wanted to shriek, but air was stuck in her lungs, frozen in terror.
