“Don’t make more of it than it is, Lia. We want the same thing. I’m offering you my help. Nothing more.”
And there was the truth that Kaden was trying to believe. Nothing more. But what I saw in his eyes was more. There was still so much need in him. It would be a difficult path for me to navigate. I didn’t want to mislead or hurt him again. Still, he was offering me something I couldn’t turn down. Help. And a Vendan assassin in my employ was something of unquestionable value. How I would love to see the cabinet’s reaction to that—especially the Chancellor and Scholar. We want the same thing.
“Then tell me what you know about the Komizar’s plans. Who else in the Morrighese cabinet was he conspiring with besides the Chancellor and Royal Scholar?”
He shook his head. “The only one I know of is the Chancellor. The Komizar kept those details to himself—to share his key contacts would give away too much power. He only told me about the Chancellor because I had to deliver a letter to his manor once. I was thirteen and the only Vendan who could speak Morrighese without an accent. I looked like any other messenger boy to the maid who answered the door.”
“What did the letter say?”
“It was sealed. I didn’t read it, but I think it was a request for more scholars. A few months later, several arrived at the Sanctum.”
More and more, I had been pondering just how many had conspired with the Komizar besides the Chancellor and the Scholar. I’d been thinking about my brother’s death and was sure it wasn’t a chance encounter. What was a whole Vendan battalion doing so far from the border in the first place? They weren’t marching on an outpost or kingdom, and as soon as my brother’s company was dead, they turned around and went home. They were lying in wait, perhaps uncertain when the encounter would occur, but somehow they knew my brother’s company was coming. Had word been sent ahead by someone in Morrighan? The slaughter was planned. Even when I met with the chievdar in the valley, he never expressed surprise at running into the platoon of men. Could the treachery in Morrighan have reached even into the ranks of the military?
A sudden hard gallop clipped the air. A soldier circled his horse around to my side. “Madam?” The word was stiff on his tongue as if he wasn’t quite sure what to call me. He strained to keep the innuendo out of his tone. It was obvious that Rafe hadn’t told the captain everything yet.
“Yes?”
“The king wishes for you to come ride at his side. We’re almost there.”
The king. This new reality rattled beneath my ribs. The coming days were going to be difficult for Rafe. Besides dealing with his grief, he’d be under as much scrutiny as I would be. This could change everything. Our plans. My plans. There was no way around it.
I glanced back at Kaden. “We’ll talk more later.”
He nodded, and I followed the soldier to the front of the caravan.
* * *
I looked at Rafe but couldn’t imagine him sitting on a throne. I could only see him on the back of a horse, a soldier, his hair sun-kissed and windblown, fire in his eyes, intimidation in his gaze, and a sword in his hand. That was the Rafe I knew. But he was more than that now. He was the ruler of a powerful kingdom, and no longer the heir apparent. His lids were heavy, as if all his lost days of sleep were finally overtaking him. No man, not even one as strong as Rafe, could go forever on handfuls of rest.
The captain rode on the other side of him, conferring with a soldier. I didn’t know how Rafe had explained his long absence. I was certain most details of Terravin had been left out. What did a captain care about a tavern maid serving a farmer?
Rafe turned, knowing I was looking at him, and smiled. “Hot baths for both of us first thing.”
Was it wrong for me to wish it could be a single hot bath for us both? A few blessed hours where we could forget that the rest of the world existed? After everything we’d been through, weren’t we entitled to that much? I was tired of waiting for tomorrows, hopes, and maybes.
“There she is!” I heard Orrin call from somewhere ahead of us.
I looked and saw a structure rising on a gentle knoll in the distance. Two soldiers galloped ahead of our party to announce us. This was an outpost?
“That’s Marabella?” I said to Rafe.
“Not what you were expecting?”
Not at all. I expected a sea of tents. Perhaps some wooden barricades. Maybe a fortification of sod. This was the Cam Lanteux, after all, and no permanent structures were allowed here. It wasn’t just an understanding—it was part of a very old treaty.
Instead what I saw was a sprawling stone structure with gleaming white walls, lithe and graceful, spreading out like beautiful swan wings from a tall gate tower. As we got closer, I saw wagons and tents huddled in groups outside those walls. A city in its own right.
“What is all that?” I asked.
Rafe explained that the outside perimeter of the outpost served as a safe haven and stopping point for traders on their way to other kingdoms. Vagabonds also took refuge close to its walls, especially in winter, when the northern climes were too harsh. Here they could set out plots and grow winter vegetables. And there were those who came to ply their trade with the soldiers too, offering food, trinkets, and diversions of various kinds. It was an ever-changing city as merchants came and went.
The sun was still high, and the rising expanse of stone wall shone bright against the dark earth, reminding me of something magical from a child’s story. The gate opened and people flooded through it—not all of them soldiers. More crowded the tower walls above, eager to get a look. The news had arrived, and likely none of them could quite believe it. The lost prince was found. Curious merchants from the nearby wagons walked closer to the gates to see what the fuss was all about. A line of soldiers kept them back so the road was clear for us to enter.
It seemed that if there was one thing I was destined for, it was to make underwhelming and filthy first impressions, whether it was the first time I stepped into Berdi’s tavern, my entrance into Sanctum Hall—or today, meeting Rafe’s countrymen for the first time.
I felt the stickiness of my neck anew, the grit behind my earlobes, the grime smearing my face, and wished I at least had a basin to wash up in. I smoothed back my hair, but my fingers only became tangled in knots.
“Lia,” Rafe said, reaching out and returning my hand to my side, “we’re home. We’re safe. That’s all that matters.”
He licked his thumb and rubbed it across my chin, as if that made a difference, then smiled. “There. Perfect. Just the way you are.”
“You smudged my dirt,” I said, feigning irritation.
His eyes sparked with reassurance. I nodded. Yes. We were safe—and together. That was all that mattered.
Other than the rumble of hooves, it was silent as we approached. It was as if every breath was held, all unbelieving, certain that the soldier had made an error in his message, but then murmurs of recognition rose, and someone high on the tower wall yelled, “Bastards! It is you!”
Rafe smiled and Sven waved. I was startled at first, then realized that it was a greeting and not a jeer—soldier to soldier, not soldier to king. Jeb, Orrin, and Tavish returned calls from other comrades. I was surprised to see that there were women among the crowd. Finely dressed women. Their mouths hung half-open and their gazes rested on me—not their new king. Once we were through the gates, soldiers waiting to lead our horses away took our reins, and Rafe helped me down. My injured leg was stiff and with my first step, I stumbled. Rafe caught me, keeping his arm around my waist. His attentions didn’t go unnoticed, and there was a lull in the greetings. Certainly the soldiers who rode ahead with a hurried message of the prince’s return hadn’t included details of a girl in the convoy.