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Damn it, Tarley.

He slammed the door shut and raced down to the stable, anxiety swirling inside him. How long had he been busy? Two hours? Three? Maybe she was just inside with her horse, except when he burst into the stables, he found Trevis finishing with the new horses and resting Jast guardsmen rushing to stand, snapping to attention when he entered.

“Where’s Tar-” He stopped as soldiers bowed to him.

Trevis measured the soldiers’ response to Lachlan with his eyes, then looked back at Lachlan. “It’s true, then?”

“What?”

“You’re a prince. Of Jast.”

Lachlan nodded, but he couldn’t take the time to assuage Trevis’s curiosity. “Have you seen Miss Fareview?” He shook his head. “Tarley.”

“What am I to do, my lord?” Trevis lowered his head.

“First, I’m not your lord, Trevis. And I just need to find Tarley.”

“It’s ‘Your Highness’,” one of the soldiers provided the boy.

Lachlan held up a hand. “Trevis. Look at me.”

Trevis looked up and met Lachlan’s eyes. Lachlan could see that the boy felt lied to, probably hurt by Lachlan’s omission, which gave him pause, but he said, “Just Lachlan to you, Trevis. I mean, we’ve been sleeping in the horse loft like brothers, haven’t we?”

The soldiers exchanged surprised glances.

“I wondered why you were so terrible at mucking the stalls, Lachlan. It all makes sense now.”

Lachlan smiled. “Not a ton of practice in that regard. What about Tarley?”

“Saw her take Ferdi a few hours ago.”

“Home?”

“Didn’t talk to her, but she had her gear with her.”

“At night?” Anxiety rose like a flooding river. While he knew that Tarley could take better care of herself than he could manage of himself, it didn’t keep his gut from churning with trepidation. The danger was significantly higher now with their betrothal and unknown assassins. And if there were hunters out there. What if she was abducted. He knew he’d rip Kaloma apart to find her, but he didn’t want to think about what could happen in the meantime.

The sound of boots scuffing across the cobblestone made Lachlan turn toward the doorway, hopeful that it was Tarley, but it wasn’t. It was Captain Johesha. The acid in Lachlan’s gut swirled, making him feel slightly ill.

“Your Highness!” Johesha’s brow collapsed over his brow. Guards Jude and Brendsen were right behind him.

“Is my father alright?” Lachlan asked.

The guards dipped their heads in acknowledgement. “He’s fine. Major Urik is with him, and I’m not his guardsman,” Johesha said. “I’m yours and you keep disappearing… Sir.” The captain’s dark eyes bounced around the stables, shrewdly taking in information. Lachlan watched him assess the soldiers, who were standing at attention and Trevis, who was eyeing Johesha. The captain’s eyes returned to Lachlan. “Forgive me, Your Highness.” He tilted his head.

“Johesha. It’s fine.”

“I suggest we return to the inn. We aren’t sure who instigated the assassination attempt–”

“I can’t, Captain–”

He sighed. “Your Highness.”

Johesha was familiar with Lachlan’s shenanigans and had followed him often under duress in Jast on many hairbrained adventures. Lachlan knew, however, that the stakes were higher in Kaloma. Tarley was at risk. Johesha and the guard weren’t familiar with the terrain or the place. There were so many things that could go wrong and had. But something in Lachlan’s gut was warning him he needed to get to Tarley. An hour ago. He wouldn’t be at ease until he saw her. Until he could apologize, kiss her, hear her reassure him nothing had changed between them, he couldn’t rest.

“Johesha… I must find Miss Fareview.”

“Your Highness. A woman?”