Niko shook his head. “It’s not for you to be sorry.” Damn, this man was too good for this place. After the warmth of the day and seeing the softer, more open side to Julian, Niko wanted to take him away. The palace was sharp and cold and hollow, everything Julian was not. He lay there so open, his face so honest. Eyes wide, lips soft.
Julian blinked up at him. “What do you see?”
Fuck. Niko tore his gaze away and stared at the wall, grinding his teeth. The thoughts in his head were private. Voicing them would be a mistake. “I don’t like that he hurt you.”
Julian pushed to his feet and stood far too close for it to be anything but personal. Any closer and that small distance would be easily overcome with a kiss.
“You’re a good man, Nikolas.”
“I stopped being good the day I took a life.”
Julian dropped his chin. His blond hair fell forward, masking blue eyes. “So did I.”
No, Julian was still good. A miracle in this place. And it broke Niko’s heart that Julian couldn’t see it. “The sun’s going down.” He stared at that subdued red orb filtered behind clouds.
“Come, the prince has early morning plans for you.” Julian sauntered up the hill toward the palace. His powerful strides carried him away until he was almost out of sight.
If Niko lived through this, maybe he’d ask Julian to leave with him. Not together. He wasn’t some love-struck fool wanting to elope. But someone had to free the man before Vasili’s whip came down too hard and made the choice for him.
Chapter 10
“I assume you can ride. If not, this will be a short excursion for you.” Vasili pulled the reins of his massive white charger, bringing the restless beast under control. Shod hooves struck the courtyard cobbles. It danced and chomped at its bit, half wild.
If that was the horse Carlo had been riding, then it was no wonder he’d fallen. The damn creature had probably killed him.
“I can ride,” Niko confirmed stiffly from atop his own borrowed horse.
The prince smiled his reptile smile and chills ran down Niko’s back. The horse Niko had mounted, by comparison, was a sedate chestnut creature. Slimmer and smaller than Vasili’s, it was faster than it looked, or so Julian had assured him. A groom fussed at his side and his docile steed never wavered.
As Vasili’s horse pawed the cobbles, Niko visually checked the saddle’s straps for any loose buckles. He’d checked them by hand moments before Vasili had mounted, earning himself a scathing look from Vasili. The assassin would be a fool to try the same stunt a second time, but considering one Caville had already died on a ride-out, Niko hadn’t wanted to be blamed for a second royal death.
Julian too was watching the number of stable hands bustling about while one finished adjusting his reins. The staff kept their heads down, going about their work without comment. Most shied from Vasili and his kicking horse. They obeyed him quickly enough, overeager to serve when he snapped at them, but beyond that, none met his eye.
“Ready?” Vasili asked in a rare show of something like concern. It didn’t last. His icy gaze turned sharp, revealing cruelty. He dug his heels into his charger’s flanks, and with a whiplike “yar!” he sent his horse rearing and screaming around the bit. Vasili gripped his mount with his thighs, and then the beast bolted forward like an arrow from a bow, galloping out the yard’s arched gateway.
Niko spurred his horse into motion, startling his groom, and galloped through the gate after Vasili’s retreating form.
Vasili’s distinctive long white hair rippled like a flag. Niko sneered at the prince’s foolishness. He knew he was being hunted, so why risk leaving the palace at all?
The charger’s hooves clattered over the wooden bridge ahead. Niko’s horse raced after it, thundering over the same bridge seconds later. Julian was likely cursing somewhere behind. A quick glance back revealed he was nowhere in sight.
Niko had wanted a chance to get the prince alone. When Vasili had summoned Julian at dawn and ordered a ride out, his heart had skipped at the idea. He’d been a natural with horses as a boy. In Pah’s forge, the customers’ horses had all been his responsibility. He’d learned to ride long before learning how to wield a blade.
Vasili would not beat him.
The winding road took them out of the palace grounds and around the outskirts of Loreen, quickly dipping into a valley. Vasili wasn’t slowing.
The cold morning wind tore at Niko’s face and clothes. His horse panted, nostrils flaring. Vasili’s beast was fast, but Niko’s was lighter, and gaining ground on the charger.
Vasili whipped around a sharp corner, slicing against a hedge. He knew the road and Niko did not. He lost time taking the corner wide and suddenly came upon a low stone wall. Niko’s chestnut leaped. Its front hooves clipped stone and the animal almost tumbled, nearly throwing Niko from the saddle. Heart in his throat, he tightened his thighs, pitched with the beast and then they were racing forward again, the chestnut eager to catch its mate. They galloped faster, Niko’s heart racing along too, the relentless pace pulling his mouth into a grin. The field opened up, stretching into the distance. Niko’s heart hammered against his ribs. The ground rushed beneath, and Vasili grew closer.
Then the prince glanced over his shoulder, either smiling or sneering. One was more likely than the other. He spurred his beast on again, forcing a burst of speed, and impossibly, the animal had more to give.
This was insanity. This far from the palace, if one of them fell, there would be no aid.
Niko eyed the horizon, freedom whispering in his ear. He could ride and ride and not stop until he reached the seas to the south. But if he did that, Julian would suffer, and he’d never learn who was trying to kill the prince. Besides, he couldn’t allow Vasili to outride him.
Vasili plunged his horse into a copse of trees, vanishing from sight. Riding at speed through the forest would ensure that one or both of them were thrown. There was risk, and then there was stupidity.
He reined his panting horse down to a trot and entered the cool, sun-dappled shade beneath the trees, half expecting to find Vasili on the ground. But the prince danced his horse ahead in a small clearing, patting its neck. Froth dripped from its mouth. It stamped the earth and snorted but had stopped trying to break. The prince was a good rider. He wasn’t about to tell him that. Vasili clearly knew it.
Niko guided his horse into the clearing. “Is this wise?”
Vasili’s sharp smile hooked into his cheek as he straightened in the saddle. His body had gained a casual fluidity since galloping out of the stables. He moved more, rocking with the motion of his horse instead of fighting against it. He teased the leather reins between his fingers, the gesture oddly tender. A competent rider, Niko thought, but not a daily one.
Niko might have gone so far as to say Vasili had enjoyed the bracing gallop. He’d begun to wonder if the prince even knew joy. But it was there in the smallest of movements and the flicker of his keen eye.
“What do you know of wise?” Vasili asked. His voice didn’t lash like a whip, but it still held its cutting edge. “You’ve followed orders your whole life. Never had to think for yourself. You’re a grunt. A tool. My tool.”
Niko narrowed his eyes. His horse rocked its head, adjusting the bit in its mouth.