Page 179 of Lady of the Drowned Empire

As the crowd dispersed, my eye caught on one soturion standing in the center of the village who wasn’t moving or hiding. His brown leather was a sharp contrast to Rhyan’s black armor, and his cold eyes were an icy blue I could see even from a distance. He wore his hair cropped severely short, reminding me of Aemon, except this man was blonde, and he kept turning his head, glaring at everyone like he was searching for someone.

For us.

“Pretend to look at apples,” Rhyan said quietly, directing me to a fruit stand.

We both had styled our soturion cloaks to cover our armor, to keep any sort of identifying features hidden. No one could see that Rhyan was Glemarian or that I was Bamarian. But they’d know we were soturi, and if anyone decided to talk to us, we’d need to leave immediately.

I was tempted to say fuck breakfast. We needed to go. But our entire mission was dependent on Rhyan’s magic, and that was dependent on his energy. If he didn’t eat, we weren’t going to get very far.

“Let me get the food,” I said. “You need to get out of here. Your face is more recognizable than mine.”

“No.”

“Rhyan, please. If I’m caught, I’ll most likely be safe and sent back south. If you’re caught—” I shook my head. “You can’t get caught.”

“I can skip breakfast.”

“No, you can’t.”

He’d only just recently gotten his full strength back, and then immediately, we’d fought akadim, gone under a frozen river, and traveled. Plus, there was everything else that had happened last night….and this morning.

“I’ll get the food. I’ll call if I run into trouble,” I said, affecting my voice with the command of an Heir to the Arkasva, something I hadn’t done in some time.

I supposed I no longer had a right to do it. Not until I fixed things. But I was right about this, and he knew it. He was just stubborn and protective.

But so was I.

He nodded, a look in his eyes warning me to be careful.

I walked inside the restaurant, full of wooden chairs and tables, and made my way to the bar to place an order for food we could take with us. The hall was packed, I supposed because it was so close to the border and all of the soturi who were stationed here. Luckily, that made me less noticeable, and I was able to pay for breakfast and exit without speaking to anyone aside from the restaurant staff. I’d tried to speak in a low voice, not wanting to emphasize my lack of a northern accent or draw any more attention my way. Somehow, I’d been lucky.

An hour later, the border was in sight. Soturi were on guard, standing every few feet, the way I’d expected them to be in Bamaria after the akadim attacks. Some were obvious in their stance while others blended into their surroundings thanks to their cloaks. But the fact that so many were out in force, a mixture of black and brown leather, had my nerves on edge.

This felt like a direct threat from Imperator Hart. Like he was taunting us, trying to convince us he would win.

Rhyan paled at the sight of the wall of soturi. They couldn’t see us—we were too deep in the dark of the closely knit trees of the Aravian woods, our cloaks blending us to near invisibility. But we had a clear view of them.

“I’m going to guess this is not a typical amount of soturi for border patrol,” I said.

“Certainly not during the day. This is even overkill for the night watch against akadim.”

“Travel?” I asked. This was starting to feel like one of those times where it was going to be necessary. If there were this many soturi in Aravia, on the Glemarian border, the likelihood of there being soturi waiting for us on Gryphon’s Mount was high. Though, considering the secrecy of what hid there, we were both hoping the number of soturi sent by Rhyan’s father would be limited.

Rhyan had spent the morning leading us to where the Aravian border had been the least protected from what he remembered, where he’d been able to get through with his friends before he’d left the north, but there were no openings for us to slip through now.

“I think we have no choice,” Rhyan said. “We shouldn’t linger.” He was still pale, his scar pronounced. “Come here to me.”

I stood in front of him so the toes of our boots touched and wrapped my arms around his back. His hands slid down my sides and back to grip my ass, squeezing as he pulled me against him.

“I’m not going to let go,” I said, locking my fingers together behind him.

He rocked against me, his eyes darkening. “Just wanted an excuse to touch you.”

My body instantly responded to his, and I gasped. “You’re going to have to apologize to me again.”

“Happy to do so. I didn’t get to spend enough time worshipping this part of you.” He caught my earlobe between his teeth and gently tugged.

“You have so much to be sorry for,” I hissed.