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But perhaps she needed the space to process everything.

And so they rode in silence.

* * *

It was six days’ hard ride to Harenth and each one passed in a blur. By day they covered as much ground as they could, and during the evenings and early mornings, Wilder trained Thea. She hid her exhaustion beneath the ironclad armour of her determination, and he didn’t insult her by trying to insist she take a night off. He showed her everything he knew – how to gut a man with dagger and sword, how to end a man with her bare hands. He taught her how to feint and strike with the utmost precision. He taught her how to care for a Naarvian steel blade and how to dry out damp boots. Anything she asked, he answered with the full, unflinching knowledge of a Warsword.

Something had shifted, though. Thea had turned inward. She didn’t try to rile him up; she didn’t rise to his bait, either. No matter how many times he called herPrincess, she didn’t bite. She simply looked to the horizon, as though she knew there was something out there, waiting for her.

Despite her unnervingly quiet demeanour, one thing Wilder refused to compromise on was her wellbeing. He practically force-fed her second helpings of everything they ate and pressed steaming cups of peppermint tea into her cold hands. He was also sure to check her stitches multiple times throughout the days. There was nothing like the sweat and grime of a long ride to make a wound fester.

Thea accepted his fussing in silence, which only served to worry him further. And on the final leg of their journey, Wilder could stand it no longer.

‘Thea…’ he started, reaching across for her reins and bringing her horse to a halt in the middle of a field.

She looked almost startled to find him there.

‘What’s going on?’ he asked gently. ‘You’ve been… Not yourself since Delmira.’

He sensed her walls coming up instantly.

‘It’s nothing,’ she told him.

‘I can’t train you if I don’t know what’s going on up here,’ he said, tapping his temple.

Thea took a breath and looked away. ‘It’s not my head that’s the problem.’

But before he could answer, she tugged her reins from his grasp and rode on.

* * *

Wilder hated the sinking feeling in his chest, the feeling that told him Thea was drifting away, that he was losing her. She rode as though she were running from something, from him, and it cut deeper than he cared to admit.

It was Thea who set the brutal pace across the last stretch of land, and it was Thea who refused to stop to rest. ‘Monsters wait for no one,’ she claimed.

When at long last, the palace, the Heart of Harenth, glimmered in the distance, Wilder didn’t know what he had been expecting. But there were no shadow wraiths circling the spires, no clouds of darkness looming over the kingdom…

One glance at Thea told him she was scrutinising the same thing. Her gaze flicked to his, sensing his attention. She simply raised a brow as if to say,Well?

And so they rode into Harenth.

The capital city of Hailford sat atop a great hill, overlooking its sprawling region. There was no doubt that Artos’ kingdom was the most prosperous of the remaining three. As they entered through the grand gates, the guards all acknowledged Wilder with reverence, pressing three fingers to their shoulders in respect. He nodded in thanks and continued past the elaborate water fountain that boasted a sculpted mountain drake atop a jagged peak. Several commoners surrounded it, tossing in coins for luck, offerings to the water goddess Lamaka and her daughters, Dresmis and Thera. He’d seen it many times before: the public prayers of those desperate for kind seas and gentle rains.

Again, he glanced at Thea, wondering if she knew that she could master such things. But Thea only had eyes for the palace atop the hill, her hand resting on the pommel of her sword as they started the ascent to the king’s residence.

Warsword and apprentice leapt from their horses when they reached the gates, handing them off to the waiting stable hands. Thea made to surge for the grand stairs to the palace, but Wilder grabbed her good arm and dragged her into an alcove just off the guardhouse. He couldn’t stand it another second, and he sure as fuck couldn’t fight with all this worry tugging at his chest.

‘What are you playing at?’ Thea hissed. ‘We need to get to the king —’

‘You need to tell me what’s going on with you,’ he demanded. ‘Right now.’

‘I told you —’

‘Tell me “nothing” again and I’ll —’

‘You’llwhat, Hawthorne?’ she challenged, eyes bright with anger.

‘I need to know,’ he said slowly, more softly this time. ‘I can’t allow you to throw yourself into harm’s way if your head’s not right. It’s a sure way to get —’