Page 8

TYCHO

Every time I’m with Jax, it seems destined to end too quickly. I thought we would have weeks to move past this weird distance that’s formed between us—and now it’s a matter of hours.

After a week on the road with the soldiers, seeing him with shining hair in the sunlight nearly made me forget my own name. When he touched my hand, I had half a mind to tell Rhen to get on his own horse if he wanted to send a message to Grey so badly.

But of course I won’t.

Jax is right about fate, though. All we can do is follow this through.

I’m determined to show him everything I can, so I start by leading him to the cool dimness of the stables between the army barracks and the Shield House. Mercy is kept in the royal stable beside the castle, so I’m not as familiar with this one, which mostly shelters horses reserved for the army. We’re nearing the dinner hour, so the aisles and courtyards are busy with soldiers coming off patrol. Anyone we traveled with is off duty now, so no one here looks familiar, but the sight of their gold-and-red livery throws tension back into my spine.

I shove those worries away. There are too many others to focus on. Jax and I weave between people and horses until we get to the stall of an aged gray gelding.

“This,” I tell him, “is Teddy. His real name was Iron Hammer or something like that, but he hasn’t seen battle in at least ten years, so you can honestly call him whatever you want. He’ll be yours until you’re ready for something more.”

“Mine!” Jax says in surprise.

“Yes. Not forever, of course, because he’s old and slow, but he’s a steady mount for learning. Prince Rhen arranged for it.”

Jax clamps his mouth shut at that.

I want to remind him that the prince he hates isn’t going to leave him at a disadvantage, so of course he’ll have a horse. Knowing Rhen, Jax will probably have anything else he could want, too.

Jax’s eyes have gone cool, so I keep my eyes on the horse and continue. “I wanted to introduce you to Master Hugh, but he’s seeing the miller tonight, so you’ll have to meet him tomorrow. He runs the stables, and he trains the recruits who can’t ride. His daughter married a soldier from Syhl Shallow a few years ago, so he actually speaks Syssalah fairly well—”

“Someone else here speaks Syssalah?”

The eagerness in his voice drives that spike of tension a little deeper. I remember what he said about needing a nail and not knowing how to ask. “Yes,” I say. “I saw him this morning and told him I’ve taught you a little on Mercy. He said you can come every night after dinner and he’ll put you in with the recruits.”

Jax was stroking a hand along Teddy’s muzzle, but at this, he goes still. “ Every night?”

I nod. “You’ll learn quick. Recruits are usually riding point-to-point after a month.”

His eyes widen a little at that, but he runs a hand down the horse’s face, and Teddy presses his head against his chest. Jax murmurs a soft word, rubbing under his mane.

I watch, transfixed for a moment. He’s always so kind to horses. It was one of the first things I noticed about him. Jax seemed brusque and petulant, but when it came to Mercy, his touch was so gentle, his voice so soft.

His eyes flick up to find mine, and my heart gives a tug. I want to pull him into this stall and bury my hands in his hair and forget every oath I’ve ever sworn. He’s so close, the air between us buzzing with warmth.

Down the aisle behind me, the last two soldiers are being raucous and loud as they untack their horses. They’re the only ones left, and they’re not happy about it. Jax frowns, his eyes skipping past me to see what they’re doing.

“They’re angry?” he guesses.

“They’re hungry,” I tell him. “They were delayed getting off the field, and they’re saying that whoever’s last will only get scraps.”

Stall doors slam, and some of the nearby horses jump, but Teddy doesn’t move. I want to tell the soldiers to knock it off, but I remember what it was like to be the last man to the mess hall at the end of a long day. Jax’s expression turns wary as he draws back into the stall, and I realize he’s remembering the hostility of the soldiers on the journey with us.

“It’s all right,” I say. “They just want their dinner.”

The soldiers draw close, and I hear one of them muttering behind me. “Apparently they have too many traitors in their own country, so now they’re sending the broken ones here.”

The other one snorts. “Raglan said one of them lured another monster over the mountains.” He spits at the ground at our feet as he passes.

I whip around, but at first, I’m more shocked than anything else.

“Hey,” I snap.

They barely turn, but the first one smirks. “Why don’t you take your trash back where you came from?” Then he keeps walking.

I don’t recognize either of them, but they’re young, with no stripes on their livery. I’m not in my own armor, so I’m sure they have no idea who I am, but I still can’t quite believe the blatant disrespect.

Actually, I can. I lived through it in Syhl Shallow.

My shoulders are so tight. I inhale to call after them, to force them to attention, to threaten to have them stripped of their rank and duty.

What I really want to do is draw a sword I’m not carrying and find some kind of release for all the anger and frustration I’m carrying in my heart.

“Tycho.” Jax’s voice cuts through my fury. He’s still beside the horse, but he’s pulled back fully into the stall. His hazel-green eyes are dark and shadowed.

“Don’t pick a fight,” he says.

I scowl. “I’m not going to pick a fight.”

I just want to.

But when I look back after the soldiers, they’re already gone.

A quiet falls over the stables, only interrupted by the soft sounds of horses moving about their stalls, rustling hay and straw. Jax has laid a crutch against the stall wall, and he’s leaning against Teddy now, still stroking a hand under the horse’s mane. In the shadows, he’s beautiful. Striking, really, especially with his hair unbound.

He’s studying me carefully, and I wish I could read his thoughts.

Jax reaches for his crutch. “I’m discovering you have a temper.”

“No, I don’t.”

He gives a little laugh, but not like anything is funny. “Well, those soldiers won’t be the last, and it’s not worth risking yourself.” He shifts to move past me.

I put a hand on his arm, and he goes still, waiting.

“You’re worth the risk,” I say, my voice low.

He looks up, his eyes finding mine. We’re closer than we were on the path, trapped together by the narrowness of the doorway. I think of the way we scuffled in his room this morning, how it was the first time we were alone. I wanted to confess all my thoughts and fears to him right there. His arm is a heavy weight under my hand, and he’s so still that I want to do it now .

But he’s right; those soldiers won’t be the last. He has his own challenges. It’s unfair to burden him with anything more than that.

“If they hassle you,” I say, “tell Master Garson. Or tell Prince Rhen himself.”

Jax says nothing to that. His eyes drop to where my hand rests on his arm, but now there’s a tightness in his jaw.

“He would put a stop to it,” I add. “The prince said you’re welcome to call at court.”

Still nothing.

I move very close, and keep my voice low. “Jax,” I say softly, and he doesn’t look up.

Do you really hate him? I want to ask.

But I can’t. I’m afraid of the answer. I’m afraid to leave him here with soldiers who resent him and a prince he won’t ask for help.

Jax finally lifts his eyes to find mine, and for a moment, I can see the answer in his gaze, as clearly as if I’ve asked the question.

Yes, I hate him. I hate what he did to you. I will always hate him for doing that to you.

It’s an intense look. A burning look, both protective and vengeful. No one has ever looked at me like that, and it steals my breath.

He told me not to pick a fight, but that look in his eyes could start a war.

But then he blinks it away, and he pulls free of my arm to give Teddy a final pat. “Come on,” he says hollowly. “Surely you have more to show me.”