Page 20

CHAPTER 20

O vernight, the winds had picked up tremendously. The tent flapped loudly, and at times, I thought it might up and fly away. I silently wished it would, only to get all of us back to Amosite before our deadline.

I hadn’t left the tent all morning, aside from relieving myself, but even on the short walk, the dirt in the air had stung my eyes. While I’d briefly been outside, I’d found that no one was milling about the town like they had been when we arrived. Whatever the wind was a warning of, the people knew to take shelter.

I was still in my destroyed dress, but I had no other options. All of our luggage had been burned in the ambush. My forehead felt warm, my hands clammy, making me all the more glad I didn’t have to leave the tent anytime soon, giving the weather enough time to hopefully die down.

With the wool blanket wrapped tight around my shoulders, I watched from the corner as the knot on my tent string was pulled loose, and the flap was yanked back.

None other than Bowen entered, ducking inside, along with a gust of warm air that carried hints of cinnamon and something earthy, like wind through the pines.

My eyes grew wide as I sucked in a breath and shot up. “What if I was indecent?” I said hurriedly, pulling the blanket tighter around me. With the state my dress was in, I wasn’t far from it at this point. The rips had only gotten worse in my sleep.

Bowen ignored my question, pinning his gaze on me. “You all need to move inside.”

“We’re in our tents, are we not? This”—my eyes flicked around the small space—“is where you wanted us.”

His jaw hardened as his brows lowered slightly. I tried to avoid shifting uncomfortably. Maybe that hadn’t been the right thing to say.

“These storms only get worse before they get better. You and your guards won’t want to be caught in the eye of it in these flimsy tents.”

“My fiancé and his brother are here, too,” I reminded him. He had been at the ball when it was announced, and even asked me about it in my father’s castle. Bowen wasn’t blind to my engagement.

“They can take shelter, too,” he added, as if it might not have been an option for the two before I mentioned them.

“I don’t want to be far from my guards,” I added quickly. I didn’t trust anyone in Deadwood.

He raised a brow the slightest bit. “What about your fiancé? Where would you like to be in terms of his presence?”

My lips pursed together. Lander and I were only friends, so I wasn’t sure I wanted him in the same house as me for the duration of a week, let alone the same bed.

“Say the words, and I’ll place him in a separate house,” Bowen said, his voice deeper this time.

“We don’t sleep in the same bed.” Shame filled me with the statement. The fact that I even had to tell Bowen that at all was embarrassing. He didn’t need to know anything about me and Lander.

His eyes scanned my face, looking for something, though I wasn’t sure what. “He’ll go to a different house, then.” With that, he turned, reaching for the flap.

“Wait.”

He looked over his shoulder, waiting for me to continue.

“Are there more…dragons out there?” What if the storm somehow confused them, and they came here? Or worse, were they already around Deadwood?

Displeasure filled his features before he said, “They will not harm you.”

Then left.

* * *

The wind storm had picked up immensely in the past twenty minutes, making it impossible to break down the tents. I’d quickly refilled a fire vial before leaving my tent, not knowing when the next opportunity would come to use my power. We’d decided to leave the tents, as watching the injured guards attempt to break them down alongside Paxon, Lander, and myself was proof enough that it’d be no use fighting the flimsy fabric. Hodge, one of Deadwood’s guards, had shown me to a small, two-story house. The guards were placed in a similar sized home to the right of mine, and on the other side was Lander and Paxon.

Though my room was upstairs, I stayed seated on the couch in the living area, listening to the wind howl outside. I’d never seen a storm this bad in Amosite, but with each biome came different weather conditions. Lander had mentioned that dust storms typically sprouted in the desert, and this seemed to be the beginning, before the worst of it arrived.

A knock sounded at the door, and I left the couch, walking over to open it. Warm wind blasted me where I stood, staring at the blonde-haired woman standing before me wearing a light coat with the hood up. She immediately pushed her way in once the door was cracked.

“That wind is terrible,” she said as I started to close the door, but a hand shot out to stop it. A man, wearing similar clothing as the woman, slid in and shut it for me.

“Uh…” I started, unsure who these people were and why they were in here.

“Oh, my bad,” the woman said with a smile, dropping a beige sack on the ground before removing her hood. Her long hair flowed down her back, and with the lanterns now illuminating her face, I noticed freckles spattering the bridge of her sun-kissed nose, making her teal eyes pop. “I’m Siara, and this is Flynt.”

I glanced at the man, who stood a few inches taller than Siara. He was wearing black pants and an ivory long sleeve, the top of the v-neck exposing some of his tan chest, the hood pulled up halfway over his head. The ends of his shaggy hair—a few shades darker than Siara’s—sprouted out from the fabric.

“Excuse her. She’s a bit pushy,” Flynt said, side-eying Siara.

“Am not,” Siara defended, her eyes narrowing. “He’s just shy.”

Flynt crossed his arms, frowning at her. “I can’t be shy as Bowen’s right-hand man.”

“Then maybe you should’ve introduced us,” Siara snapped back, leaning toward him to add emphasis to her words.

I shook my head, thinking I might’ve heard him wrong. “Wait. Bowen’s right-hand man?” Was Bowen more than he was letting on?

They both looked at me. Flynt made no move to clarify as Siara grabbed the bag and came forward, setting a hand on my arm. “Come. I have clothes for you. This dress is a disaster.”

Flynt stayed downstairs as Siara guided me to my room, setting the sack on the bed. She opened it to reveal a pile of clothes, a pair of boots sitting on top. “You can wear whatever you’d like. They’re all yours now.” She pulled out the boots and plopped them on the ground, then each item of clothing, holding them out in front of her before laying them neatly on the bed. “There’s pants, shirts, coats, some underwear?—”

“I can’t accept this,” I said, interrupting her.

She paused her movements, giving me a curious look. “Why not?”

I searched for an answer, but realized I didn’t have a good one. I truly did want to get out of this dress. It was caked in dirt, torn in various spots, and the corset was far past uncomfortable at this point. “I’m only here temporarily.”

She set the shirt she’d been holding on the bed. “Would you rather be wearing that during your temporary stay?”

I looked down at my dress, inwardly cringing. It even smelled odd. “Not exactly.” She quickly inhaled as she was about to speak, but I added, “But I don’t need this many clothes. We’re hoping to leave by the end of the week.”

The corners of her mouth ticked up, and she dipped her chin. “Right. Well, feel free to wear whatever you’d like from the pile until then.”

She headed for the door as I regarded the clothing on the bed. “Are there dresses?”

She paused, her hand on the knob. “There are some in the bag. You can sort through it, choose what you like.”

I nodded. “Thank you for bringing these.”

Her eyes softened. “Of course. I’ll wait downstairs.”

She closed the door behind her, and I moved for the bag, reaching in to empty it. After laying out the few dresses that were in there, I stood back, admiring them. None had corsets, and the fabric was soft like silk, shining in the dim sunlight coming in from the overcast sky outside the window. I’d never been offered such simple dresses. They were mostly black, but some had beautifully simple details on the skirts or the tops, weaves of lace or various colored stitching decorating them. One was completely solid black, a bit shorter than the others, and I assumed it was for sleep.

I opted for the dress with the more simple skirt, weaves of dark gray flowing through the soft fabric, blending with the black. Looking in the mirror, I attempted to run a hand through my hair, but it wouldn’t be fixable until I had a bath. I’d take care of that tonight. The water would feel good on my ankle, but already, it was feeling better with the wrap and tea I’d been drinking. I was still limping and moving slower than usual, but the pain wasn’t as bad as before. Even better, if they had warm water, it would help immensely with the swelling.

Once I was changed, I headed back downstairs to find Flynt and Siara sitting at the table. Upon seeing me, they both stood.

“It looks like it was made for you,” Siara said, admiring the dress.

It hugged my body in a way my usual dresses didn’t, and I felt somewhat vulnerable.

“You look nice,” Flynt added, barely sparing the gown a glance.

“Thanks.” My cheeks felt warm, and I wanted to sit, but it felt wrong to do with them here.

“How are you feeling now that you’re out of that sad excuse for a dress?” Siara asked, clasping her hands in front of her.

“Better.” I offered a small smile.

“Tomorrow night, we’re hosting a dinner in the main hall, if you’d like to join,” she said.

“We?”

“Bowen, Raiden, Siara, me,” Flynt clarified, drawing out the last word like I should know who these people were by now.

“Who’s Raiden?” I asked.

“The commander,” Flynt answered.

My brows pulled together. “Like the head of the guard?”

Siara nodded. “He’s also our friend. Acts all big and tough, but he’s a softy.” She tipped her head to the side. “Sort of.”

My eyes fell to the ground as I tried to process all of this. I’d gone from being isolated and dining alone, save for the nights my father bothered to invite me to eat with him and Heidi, to being surrounded by people at all times, especially for meals.

Siara elbowed Flynt’s arm. “You scared her,” she whispered, though I heard it loud and clear.

“You’re the one coming in here like a bat out of hell,” he muttered back.

I lifted my head. “I’m not scared. This is just…a lot.”

They both pasted on a smile, as if they hadn’t bickered at all.

“Will you come?” Siara asked, a small plea behind her words.

A dinner with a bunch of strangers in a town I’d never heard of before. Not only that, but Bowen would be there, too. What could possibly go wrong?

“The Bulars are invited as well,” Siara added.

Just what I needed.

“It sounds lovely, but?—”

“Please,” Siara begged. “It’d be nice to have another girl there, other than myself. These men are insufferable sometimes,” she added on a mutter.

Flynt shot her a look.

I inhaled, hoping it wouldn’t be too bad. “Okay. I’ll go.”

Flynt grinned, but it was small compared to Siara’s gleaming smile.

She came forward, grabbing both my hands. “I’ll come get you before.”

The front door opened, letting a burst of wind inside the house that rustled my hair, and Lander appeared. He still wore the clothing from our trip, the fabric torn and dirty.

“Auria,” he said sternly. “A word?”

Siara dropped my hands, glancing at Flynt as he gave a small nod toward the door. She turned back to me with a slight furrow in her brow. “If you need anything, come find one of us.”

I almost didn’t want them to leave, despite the two being strangers. “Thank you. I appreciate the clothes.”

“Of course.” Then she and Flynt left, closing the door behind them, and leaving Lander and I alone in the foyer.

“An entirely separate house?” he practically snapped. He didn’t sound happy.

“It’s how it’s been the entirety of the trip,” I said, moving to sit in one of the chairs at the table. The weight off my ankle was a relief.

“This is the longest stay we’ll have, Auria. Not to mention in a town like this.”

My brows pulled together. What did he mean by that? “What difference does it make?”

His fingers stretched before he balled them into fists. “We’re supposed to be engaged.”

“Yes, and we’re not yet married.”

“But we will be.”

“And you said it yourself, you’d rather be friends.”

He inhaled deeply through his nose, visibly trying to control himself. “To the eyes of the people, we aren’t just friends. We have to keep up appearances. We’re the underdogs here. Do you know how irate Paxon is?”

“More than you?” I surmised.

He crossed his arms. “You should be glad it was me who came to you first and not him.”

I unconsciously rubbed my arm as a chill worked its way over my body. “I don’t see the problem. It’s the same arrangement we’ve had.”

“It’s not me who has the problem with it.” He took a seat beside me, his shoulders hunched.

“Could’ve fooled me,” I mumbled before he continued.

“My brother is breathing down my neck, Auria. He thinks the image we portray here is important.”

I tilted my head. “Compared to any other place we’ve visited?”

“Deadwood has no rules. They do whatever they want, whenever they want, and there are no consequences.”

Deadwood was lawless? But that couldn’t be possible, could it? Every kingdom, every town, was ruled by someone .

“Shouldn’t that mean we can lay off the theatrics for a few days?” I asked. Not that we’d been showing our engagement off much to begin with. Aside from holding hands occasionally—only when it mattered—and looking like a perfect, happy couple in front of citizens that couldn’t care less, we’d been behaving more as acquaintances than anything.

“It means we need to look united.”

If what he said was true, then why had Bowen checked the binding on my foot like he cared? Why had Siara brought me clothes, and Flynt acted polite? Why give us supplies, or even refuge, if they had no obligation to? No leader to look good in front of?

“We are,” I defended.

He arched a brow. “By you being in this house alone?”

“I asked for the guards to be placed next to me, and they are.”

He released a sigh, subtly shaking his head. “Did you request they keep me and Paxon far from you, too?”

“No,” I answered hurriedly. “No, Lander. That’s just how it worked out. Besides, you two are right next door. If anything happens, someone will hear.”

He scoffed, but I had no energy to fight.

“It’s been a long couple of days, okay? I’m just… I’m tired.” I ran a hand down my face for emphasis, my eyes heavy. With the lack of sleep and his high emotions, we’d only bicker back and forth about it, getting nowhere.

He ran a hand down his jaw. “Alright.”

He stood to leave, placing a hand on his stomach like he was going to straighten his coat, but paused.

The act reminded me of what Siara had asked. “They’ve invited us to dinner.”

His gaze froze on me. “Dinner,” he repeated in a monotone voice.

I dipped my head in a nod. “With their…” What even were they to each other? Remembering what Siara had said of Raiden, I filled in, “Friends.”

“That’s what they were here to talk to you about? A dinner ?”

I nodded again.

He shook his head, but not in answer, more so in thought. I was about to open my mouth to explain further—as if there was anything else to say—when he said, “I’ll talk to Paxon.”

He turned, walking away, but before he could slip out the open door, I spoke up. “I apologize if I caused any problems.”

He offered me a closed-lip smile, the wind rustling his hair, then left, tugging the door shut behind him.

I hadn’t seen him act like that for the entirety of this trip, and now all of a sudden, he wanted to pretend we were more than what we agreed. It made no sense. But then again, not much did lately.