Page 73 of In The Dark
Though my experience with traveling through the Veil remains nothing short of chaotic. I hoped that after stealing the map, my time in the Veil would get easier.
But I was clearly wrong in that assumption.
As soon as we arrived in the loft, my head started spinning, forcing me to tuck myself between my legs to keep from retching all over his floor. Rydian growled,“You better get a bucket because I’m not cleaning that,”which didn’t help my nausea.
Better than the first few times, but still.
He was adamant on traveling to the Siphon—whose name is Milena—through the Veil, but I convinced him not to. That if he didn’t want me to hurl up everything I ate this morning, we would be grabbing a horse from one of the local stables. I instantly regretted the wording because he did, in fact, come back with a single horse, forcing me to ride with him.
“The Whispering Woods,” he mutters finally.
“What?” My brows lower on a growl, leaving me to pivot in the saddle to face him. His eyes dart to mine as a smug grin pulls at his lips, full of wicked amusement.
“Do you know what that is?” I ask, facing forward.
“Are you frightened?”
I only scoff, unable to help the smidgen of fear that rises in my chest. Not that I couldn’t handle myself, I’d just rather… not. The Whispering Woods hold the spirits of the realm, but creatures of Elderheim live there as well. Including Grokees, Wraiths, Nightlurkers, and Howlers.
All of which I have no interest in meeting today, and now I’m going in with only a horse and a few knives? King Elion wouldn’t dare go into those woods. He doesn’t even send the brethren in them, knowing just how dangerous they are.
“I told you that we should have Veiled in,” he murmurs. “Butyou insisted we use a horse. I’ve already traveled through the area. We should be fine for now.”
He mentioned that he tracked Milena soon after we arrived in Alvonia, having traveled here the week prior. I wondered how he could have tracked her so fast given that she’s in hiding. He only told me that it had something to do with Bess, and that she wasn’t willing to fork out the information.
“Easy for you to say,” I mumble, now hyperaware of every noise and crunch of the branches lining the path.
The dirt road is scattered with the leaves left over from fall, creating a blur of yellows, oranges, and reds. Although winter is in full force, the trees are so thick that the snow hardly covers the road we travel down, sheltering us from the harsh winds.
It’s also a path frequently traveled on, given the thick indents in the road, leaving me to wonder who could be traveling to and from the Whispering Woods. Rydian sits snug behind me, and I catch myself thinking about the drawing he left.
“I saw the drawing,” I mutter.
“Did you like it?”
“Maybe,” I say, fighting a grin. “How did you learn?”
My hood falls, and he pushes my braid to the side, playing with the loose, dark strands that hang off my neck. I stiffen slightly, silently thanking myself for tucking my birthmark within the braid before leaving.
I don’t know why I choose to still hide it, perhaps a habit at this point. Regardless, I can’t help the rising flush to my neck from his touch. And then he hums to himself before answering.
“Andre’s mother, Queen Jhessa, used to take me to the city while Andre was learning how to be a king through his father. We would often travel to the market together, sketching the folks that shopped. It’s a nice memory.”
“Are your parents still around?” I ask, because even though he mentioned that King Malvain raised him, he never went intodetail if his parents were alive or not. He’s silent for a moment, as if he’s taking the time to think about his answer.
“No,” he murmurs softly. “My mother died shortly before I left to live with King Malvain. And my father…” He trails off, then quietly sighs. “He was a selfish male, but he’s not around anymore. Andre’s family helped shape who I am.”
Before I can stop myself, my hand grazes his leg the moment he slips an arm around my waist. My heart skips, unease suddenly prickling my neck as an unfamiliar feeling of warmth curls in my stomach, leaving me hesitant.
Almost like the slow realization that I might actually like him. Like he’s growing on me—something more than just a simple infatuation. It’s sharp and hard to push down, impossible to ignore.
Yet the thought of being the heir to Aurelia plagues me. Can I say no to being queen? What if I don’t want it?
If I’m being honest, I’m not entirely sure how I feel about ruling a realm of Fae I know nothing of. Not fully anyway. The history of them has been lost over the years due to King Elion’s laws—banning the Shadovar, cursing their name, and punishing the residents of Elderheim who speak of them.
My thoughts continue to spin, but after a couple of hours of riding, I hate to admit that Rydian was right—we weren’t bothered while we traveled. Why is it so feared if there’s nothing here?
Sable, our mare, suddenly plants herself in the middle of the road and comes to an abrupt stop. I glance around, feeling as if we’re being watched.