Paxton’s mind was in a dark place as he returned to the commons. Last night changed everything. He could no longer pretend to be normal. He could no longer ignore reality. He could no longer blend in.
When he got to his tent he began shoving his belongings into his bag. His mind reeled as he packed, images of the beast and Lash marks morphing into the supple body of the princess pressed against him on horseback. So, it was a bit jarring when the tent flap opened and he saw his mother’s face.
“Pax!” She rushed in and threw her arms around his middle, squeezing him tightly. His eyes closed for two beats as he held her, and then pulled back to see her comforting eyes, herbrown hair pulled into a bun. His father ambled in and shook his hand. A mixture of surprise and worry filled Paxton.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Is everything all right?”
“We heard from villagers who’d visited the royal market that the hunt was moving northwest, so we brought your cold weather gear,” his father said.
Paxton nodded his thanks, noticing the pile of items and coats, and feeling a pang of regret. He may very well need them wherever he ventured next. He felt an urge to laugh at the irony that his parents would show today of all days. He hadn’t decided on whether he would tell them, or if it would be safer to leave without a good-bye visit. Seeing them now filled him with guilt. If he disappeared without a word, it would kill his parents. But it was better than them finding out the truth.
All through his childhood, rumors had flown about his grandmother being Lashed. His father had always vehemently denied it, even in their own home. “She’s eccentric, introverted.” People saw what they wanted to see, ignored what they refused to believe, loved ones or not.
Paxton rubbed his brow. “Have you seen Tiern? He should have returned before me.”
“We’re told he’s still at the stables,” his mother replied. Her eyes searched him as if gaining sustenance from the sight of his well-being. Paxton let out a small sigh.
“I need to speak with you both,” he said quietly.
“It’s Tiern, isn’t it?” His mother asked. “He’s not faring well in the hunt?”
“It’s nothing to do with him.” Paxton ushered them both to sit, his stomach tightening. They took a seat on Tiern’s neatly made cot and Paxton slumped onto his messy one. He ran his fingers through his hair and saw his mother frown at the sight of his hands. He lifted them in haste to see if the lines were visible, but they weren’t. They were just filthy. His mother leaned forward and rested a hand on his knee.
“I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, Pax. The things we’ve been hearing . . . we wake every morning and run into town for news. If it’s this frightening for us, I can’t imagine . . .”
She looked to her husband, who patted her knee.
“We’re proud of you both,” Paxton’s father said. “You’ve made it this far when so many others haven’t. One of you is bound to win.”
Paxton looked straight into his father’s eyes. “It’ll have to be Tiern.”
His father’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “And why is that?”
He broke eye contact, staring down at his hands with their dried, crusted appearance. “I’m leaving the hunt.”
“What?”
“Oh, thank the seas.” His mother leaned her head back. “Yes, come home, Paxton.”
“I’m not coming home, Mum. I’m leaving to be on my own for a while.”
They both stared at him as if he’d gone mad.
The clomp of feet running on damp grass sounded outside the tent, and then Tiern burst in. “Pax, bloody hell, that Vixie is—” He stopped and his eyes bulged. “Mum! Papa, what are you doing here?”
Their parents stood and embraced Tiern.
“We brought your cold weather gear,” their father said in a thick voice.
Their mother patted Tiern’s cheek. Paxton could see she was holding back tears, putting on a strong face. “That wouldn’t be young Princess Vixie you were referring to, now would it?”
“Er . . .” Tiern’s eyes shot to Pax. “Aye. She’s got quite nice riding skills.”
“Don’t go falling for the younger sister of the one you might have to marry.” She gave a fake smile and Paxton wanted to punch something. He was tired of all the pretending.
“No. Course not,” said Tiern. “Princess Aerity, she’s like a dream. Princess Vixie, she’s just mad fun.”
Paxton would have rolled his eyes if his stomach weren’t churning at the thought of Tiern and Aerity married. A deep growl surged up in his chest, and he coughed to cover it.
