Page 39

Why all this secrecy? I wondered, clinging to Anderic as the horse picked its way through the darkness. In my previous life, I’d never known the prince to sneak around like a common thief. He was the Crown Prince—he could come and go as he pleased.

Unless…

Unless he suspected someone was watching. Someone who shouldn’t know about his movements.

The realization sent a chill down my spine that had nothing to do with the night air. This wasn’t just about avoiding gossip or circumventing protocol. Anderic was hiding this mission from someone he didn’t trust.

We reached a section of wall where the stones appeared looser, more weathered than the rest. Lennox dismounted in one fluid motion and pushed at what looked like a solid wall. To my surprise, a narrow gap appeared—just wide enough for a horse to pass through sideways.

“Ancient smuggler’s route,” Anderic murmured, answering my unasked question. “Hasn’t been used in decades. The palace guards think they sealed them all, but my grandfather showed me this one before he died.”

Lennox went through first, leading his horse by the reins.

Then it was our turn. Anderic guided our mount through the gap with expert precision, his body pressed against mine as we navigated the tight space.

I held my breath, certain we’d be caught at any moment, but we emerged on the other side without incident.

We rode hard for what felt like hours, staying off the main roads and keeping to the shadows.

I didn’t dare make a sound, though questions burned on my tongue like fire.

The tension in Anderic’s body was palpable, his muscles coiled tight against my back as he scanned our surroundings with hypervigilance.

Finally, when the city lights had long faded behind us and the forest had grown thick on either side, I felt Anderic relax. The change in him was subtle—a slight loosening of his shoulders, a deeper breath that expanded his chest against my back. Lennox, too, seemed less rigid in his saddle.

Our pace slowed to a gentle trot. The path before us, narrow and winding, was bathed in silver moonlight that filtered through the canopy of leaves above.

The full moon hung like a pendant in the velvet sky, casting an ethereal glow over everything it touched.

Fireflies danced between the trees, their tiny lights blinking like earthbound stars.

It was breathtakingly beautiful—romantic, even—if I could forget we were riding toward the very place where my family and I had suffered and died.

“Why the secrecy?” I finally asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “You suspect someone, don’t you? That’s why we snuck out like thieves.”

Anderic was quiet for so long I thought he might not answer. Then, “Yes. Several ones, in fact.”

I waited for him to elaborate, but he remained frustratingly silent. The urge to press him for details clawed at me— who did he suspect? What did he know? How did this relate to my family’s fate?—but I forced myself to bite my tongue. Trust had to be earned, and I’d done nothing yet to deserve his.

Instead, I focused on the rhythm of the horse beneath us and the warmth of Anderic at my back, trying to ignore the dread pooling in my stomach as we rode deeper into the night.

We rode in silence for a while, the steady rhythm of hoofbeats and Anderic’s warm presence at my back lulling me into a contemplative state. His arms encircled me as he held the reins, creating a strangely intimate cage I found myself reluctant to escape.

“Are you alright?” His voice came soft against my ear, his breath stirring wisps of my hair. “After last night, I mean.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Last night?”

“You seemed… troubled. When I asked about Northern mines,” his chest rumbled against my back as he spoke. “Even when you were sleeping, you kept tossing and turning.”

“Oh.” So that’s what he was talking about. “I’m fine.”

His arms tightened slightly around me. “Are you? Because I can think of several ways to help you sleep better tonight.” The suggestive undertone in his voice made my pulse quicken.

“Your Highness, if you haven’t noticed, it’s already night, and we’re riding on a horse.”

“Eric,” he corrected, his lips brushing my ear deliberately. “When we’re alone like this, I want to hear my name on your lips, Lya. As for the night, Lennox has prepared a discreet accommodation for us. We’ll reach there soon.”

I swallowed hard, not knowing how to answer. The memory of his hands on my body, the way he’d unraveled me with nothing but touch, lingered far too vividly. “Uh…right.”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through my body. His hand left the reins briefly to trace a path along my arm. “Cold?”

“No,” I whispered, though goosebumps followed his touch.

“Pity. I was hoping for an excuse to hold you closer.”

Despite Anderic’s promise that we would reach our accommodation “soon,” it was nearly sunset the following day when we finally arrived at what could only generously be called a house.

My back ached from the endless hours on horseback, and my patience had worn as thin as the building’s decrepit walls.

As we dismounted in the waning light, a piece of window shade chose that exact moment to detach itself and flutter pathetically to the ground.

“Is this the fine accommodation you spoke so highly of, Captain?” Anderic’s voice dripped with sarcasm as he helped me down from the horse, his hands lingering at my waist a moment longer than necessary.

Lennox’s face darkened. “I didn’t exactly have time for a proper inspection tour, Your Highness. You gave me less than a day’s notice.”

“And I expected more than a collapsing shack,” Anderic shot back, gesturing broadly at the weathered structure. “This place looks like it would crumble if a squirrel sneezed on it.”

“Perhaps Your Highness would prefer sleeping under the stars? I hear the northern wolves are particularly friendly this time of year.”

“At least the wolves wouldn’t subject me to your incompetence.”

“My incompetence? Who decided to bring along an unexpected guest without any warning?”

While they traded barbs like children fighting over a toy, I slipped away and pushed open the creaking door. Inside, I was pleasantly surprised. Unlike its exterior, the interior was clean and orderly—two modest bedrooms branched off from a central space that served as both kitchen and dining area.

The kitchen corner held a stone hearth with a hanging pot and several shelves stocked with preserved meats, dried herbs, and root vegetables. A few small bundles of firewood were neatly stacked against the wall. Someone had prepared for our arrival, after all.

I returned to find the men still locked in their verbal sparring match.

“Next time, I’ll be sure to requisition a palace for His Royal Highness—”

“Enough!” I snapped, my patience finally shattering. Both men turned to me with identical expressions of surprise. “For the love of all that’s holy, stop your bickering and get inside. The house is perfectly fine—clean, stocked, and, most importantly, not crawling with wolves or bandits.”

They exchanged glances but fell silent.

“You,” I pointed at Anderic, “fetch water from the well. And you,” my finger swung to Lennox, “bring in our supplies and see to the horses. I’m going to make something to eat before I pass out from hunger.”

To my astonishment, they obeyed without argument.

I set to work in the kitchen, chopping onions and carrots and adding dried herbs to the pot of water Anderic brought.

I found preserved chicken in a sealed jar and added it to the simmering broth.

The familiar rhythms of cooking calmed my frayed nerves, reminding me of my time in exile when I’d learned to prepare meals from almost nothing.

I caught Anderic watching me from the doorway, a curious expression on his face.

“What?” I challenged, stirring the pot with more force than necessary.

“Nothing,” he said, though his eyes said otherwise. “I’ve just never seen a noble lady so… comfortable in a kitchen.”

I bit back a retort about how exile tends to teach one useful skills. “There are many things you haven’t seen me do, Your Highness.”

Within the hour, we sat around a wobbly table assembled from crates, steam rising from three bowls of fragrant soup. My stomach growled loudly as I dipped a spoon into the golden broth.

Lennox stared down at his bowl, his expression a mixture of suspicion and reluctance.

“What?” I demanded, my spoon halfway to my mouth.

He tilted his head. “Is this… edible?”

Anderic smirked beside him but wisely kept his mouth shut. He clearly anticipated the storm brewing.

“Why don’t you eat it and find out for yourself, Captain?” I replied, my voice dripping with sweetness that wouldn’t fool a child. “Unless you’re afraid of a little soup?”

Lennox’s jaw tightened.

I sighed, setting down my spoon. “I didn’t lie when I said I could cook.”

Without waiting for a response, I took a deliberate spoonful, savoring the familiar flavors as I pointedly ignored both men.

“Well,” Anderic said after his first taste, “at least one of us had a useful skill to contribute today.”

Lennox nodded in reluctant agreement, and for the first time since we’d left the capital, a tentative peace settled over our unlikely trio.