Page 20 of A Warrior's Heart

Alek and Lorcan exchanged a look before the prince stepped toward Troy and took hold of his hands. “We talked it over last night after you all returned to your beds. We’re going with you.”

“But I thought you wanted to be close to your family,” Troy said.

A soft smile touched the prince’s lips. “I can’t stand by and do nothing when the people I love are risking their lives for our home. Isn’t that what you said to me all those years ago when you first journeyed to the surface to aid us in our mission? Avalontis might not be my home any longer, but as crowned prince, it’s my duty to protect the people. And so I shall. Thank you for reminding me of that.”

Pride swelled in my chest at Lorcan’s decision. Ever since his birth, he fought against his duties as crowned prince. He was embracing the role at last.

Troy threw his arms around Lorcan before pulling back. “What about Theron? Who will watch him while you and Alek are away?”

“Seth will be here soon to stay with him,” Alek said, coming around the corner with Theron in his arms. “I sent word to him before dawn.”

Seth was the brother of the man they named Theron after. When Alek was killed during the battle of Black Hallows, a dying merman named Theron had used his final breath to murmur a spell that would bind Alek’s soul to his body. A selfless act that the prince and Alek would be eternally grateful for.

Lorcan walked over and put an arm around Alek and his son, pressing his face against Theron’s silver curls. The boy closed his eyes and rested his head on Lorcan’s shoulder.

“Let’s give them privacy,” I said to Troy.

He followed me out of the room.

Reif had placed our bags by the hearth, and I checked mine to make sure it had my weapons. Troy pulled a mirror and a round container from his bag. He dabbed his finger in gold powder before spreading it along his eyelids. The shimmery makeup suited him.

Sections of his light brown hair were braided, and he dressed in a shirt made of fishing net that he’d added gemstones to. His manner of dress reflected that of the more fashion savvy merfolk in Avalontis, and he’d even started several trends. The people adored him. As did I.

“Why do you stare?” Troy asked with a smirk. “Do you wish for me to put makeup on you too? I think you’d look amazing with pink on your lids.”

I glowered at him. “Do it and face the consequences.”

“What are you going to do? Spank me?”

I rolled my eyes and rose to my feet, lifting my bag over my shoulder. “Grab your bag and come on.”

“You’re no fun, Mal.” Troy sighed as he repacked his makeup and walked with me outside.

Reif stood with the assassins, quietly speaking with them. The man in the middle lowered his hood, revealing a head of short black hair. The sun shone on the dark strands, making it glisten like a raven’s wings. The rest of his face remained covered.

“Malik,” Reif said, ushering me over. He nodded to the dark haired male in front of him. “This is Ervin. He’s the first lieutenant of the Men of Shadow.”

Ervin nodded to me.

“You and your men have my gratitude,” I said, putting my hand to my chest. Ervin mirrored the action. “Apologies for the short notice.”

“No apology necessary,” Ervin responded in a smooth tone. His voice was deeper than I expected. “It’s an honor to serve.” He gestured to the men beside him. “Cain, Roan, Shar, Lusca, Marlin, and I are at your command.”

Troy stepped to my side and waved at them.

The assassins focused on Troy, their eyes giving nothing away to their expressions. The smaller male moved closer to my side and took hold of my arm. He did that when meeting people for the first time.

Troy was full of energy, a burst of sunlight, yet he was untrusting of mostly everyone, and he struggled making eye contact with people he didn’t know.

Eva and Nereus returned from their trip to the market and greeted the masked men, who only nodded in response.

“We bought food to last for a two week journey,” Eva said, putting her hands on her lean hips. “Kellan helped us load it on the ship right before we came here.”

“Well done,” I said.

Seth arrived minutes later, carrying two satchels as he came over the hill and walked toward the cottage. At his approach, the assassins put their hands on their daggers.

“He’s a former soldier in the king’s army,” I said to them. Seth had quit the warrior’s life to become a baker. Perhaps an extreme change of occupation, but after the loss of his brother, he decided to follow his passion. “He’s a trusted friend.”