“Easy to track and ridiculous to boot, I know.” Amarande grinned, knowing full well that, minus the sword at her back, she looked every inch the Runaway Queen her mother was supposed to be. But she didn’t mention that and she knew Luca wouldn’t either. “There wasn’t time to change.”
Luca’s lips quirked up. “When did you leave?”
“About ten minutes was all I could survive of dinner with Renard. Left the dining hall and went straight for the stable.”
Luca didn’t press. He didn’t ask why she was having dinner with Renard, though he knew the rhythm of the Itspi well enough to understand the Royal Council would have demanded penance for her display at the funeral. More, Amarande knew he knew why she’d abandoned dinner to come to him. It was exactly why she’d rescued him. And how he’d known she would.
He brought Mira forward and grabbed the princess’s hand. Folded her fingers into his.
Together they walked like that, drawing themselves to the other side of the little trickling stream, where there was room to walk without a cliff bumping against a shoulder. Leaving the little nest of land that had sheltered them for just long enough. At the mouth of the main stretch, where the scrub faded into wide rivers of sand running alongside the spindly branched forest to the north, Luca stopped. Unless they wanted to lose time in the trees, there truly was nowhere to hide, only a direction to pick. At that moment they were heading west.
Toward the supposed pirate ship and away from Ardenia.
Luca’s attention lingered over his shoulder—east and home. “Are we circumventing the forest? Is that what you’re thinking? Looping around and back?” He asked it like he hadn’t realized their direction until just now, too. Maybe it was like her ball gown—so obvious he’d missed it in his elation. “I’m assuming King Sendoa taught you a strategy for this situation—how do we circle back toward Ardenia without running straight into Dunixi, Urtzi, and Ula?”
That stopped Amarande cold, a sudden and fierce anger rising in her gut, quick as a surprise. The fight was back, flooding every muscle with tense, swift rage. She dropped his hand so she wouldn’t crush his fingers.
“First thing: We don’t talk about the enemy like we’re trying to avoid them at the market.”
Luca raised a brow. He wasn’t ever invited to the war rooms. He didn’t know the first thing about commanding an army. Or surviving one.
“Their names,” she said, arms flinging out. “If Father taught me anything, it’s that it’s much easier to call someone your enemy if you don’t refer to them by name.”
Luca’s brows fell and then knitted together. “But they’re people. And they have names. I can’t forget that. They were more gracious to me than they needed to be.”
Oh, Luca, so kind of heart. “Their humanity is a weapon they’re using against you. You see them as human, you begin to identify with them. Common ground will blind you enough that you won’t see the knife until it’s already lodged in your belly.”
Luca was quiet a moment. “Is that really how King Sendoa thought?”
Amarande sighed. “It’s what he taught me, so if he didn’t believe it he at least wanted me to.”
It was depressing. But it was the way of the world. And it was hard to disprove based on what Amarande believed had happened to her father. Only it wasn’t a knife in the belly, it was poison in his blood; she was sure of it.
The princess pressed her eyes closed for a short moment. “The anger in my voice is for them, not you.” Her eyes shot open and she offered him her hand. Amarande wasn’t really sure why she’d helped the kidnappers when the Harea Asps attacked, though she told herself it was because the snakes were a danger to her and Luca as well. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. We’re not circling back; we’re driving forward.” She squeezed his fingers, a new idea barging into her mind. “Let’s run until we find the pirates’ ship—we can sail it to Indu, or north of the Divide.”
New confusion pressed his features. “Ama, you know the ship is not at the Port of Torrent if it’s anywhere.…”
Amarande’s eyes dropped to the sandy earth. “I know. It’s just—”
The princess pulled up short and Luca was silent, waiting for the rest. Knowing he’d get it. Amarande tested the thought on her tongue, trying to explain the churning discomfort in her newly full stomach.
“Pyrenee plans to steal my kingdom like they stole you. And if not them, Basilica and Myrcell will try. When we return they’ll have confirmation about what I’ll do for you and use it.” She looked up and brought a hand to his hair, combing it to the side, careful not to graze the knot at his temple. “I believe you are much safer without me there.”
“Safer from what? If you’re not there, what’s to keep them from stealing it?”
“I—” The princess’s reply died on her lips. The wind kicked up around them, as if it had something to say for her. After a few moments, she brushed away the blown sand clinging to her face and tried again. “Please. I want to be with you—every day, all day. And I can’t be there. Not if I’m married off—not the way the law is written now. I’m just a pawn, no more than you were mere hours ago. It’s just…” She glanced down at their hands. “I have you back and I … I don’t want to lose you again.”
Luca didn’t blink. “You won’t lose me. No matter where we are, you’re never losing me again.” Amarande’s heart swelled, and she suddenly felt like she couldn’t look at him without bursting into flames. “But you will lose your kingdom unless you go back and fight. I will help you. Always, Princess. I promise.”
Amarande’s swollen heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. Her eyes shot to the horizon stretching out in front of her, over Luca’s shoulder. The western stretch of the Torrent, reaching all the way to the sea. Then to Indu or across the Divide to Eritri and beyond. Then to a life where no one cared who they were or what they did, and anonymity could cover them like so many blankets.
But Luca was right.
Running wasn’t an option. It was a dream.
Amarande let that sit in her gut. Waiting for her father’s voice to come in her ear. But this time it didn’t. And she didn’t know what that meant.
After a long silence, Luca pressed on with a different subject. “How do you know it was Pyrenee? Taillefer saw us in the meadow, yes, but any one of those royals is certainly resourceful enough to find out about … us.” Yes, they were a secret open to the stars if not to each other. Amarande loved the people who made the Itspi hum, but she knew some among them might be swayed by the right gold piece to share a detail so many knew. “Was it in the letter?” He tipped her chin up with a rough thumb.
She nodded, though she was surprised he knew about it.
“Ama, what did it say?”
That shyness swelled back into Amarande’s chest. Though she’d just kissed him. Though he’d kissed her back. Though he held her hand now.
The kidnappers’ letter was still tucked into her bodice, pressing right up against the skin protecting her heart. Rather than answering him, she asked, “Did they tell you whom they worked for?”