Page 17 of Nightingale (The Broken Kingdoms #1)

W hen Vrea woke in the morning, she was only slightly surprised to find herself still alive. She’d half expected her death to come at any of the heirs’ hands, Rian’s most of all, considering the way that their last encounter had ended. One that they hadn’t spoken of, and one that it was clear that neither of them would bring up. What happened in the past didn’t matter now.

Vrea carefully pushed off the sleeping roll, tossing the blankets aside and wiping the exhaustion from under her eyes as she tapped the space between her pillow and the floor for the key she’d shoved under it for precaution. She stood, turned the lock on the door and shoved it open. The sunlight blinded her for a moment, but she rapidly blinked it away before the stinging tears could settle in.

“Good morning.” Rian greeted her as he contained a wry smile, sipping at what appeared to be a steaming cup of tea by the wafting steam tendrils that smelled like rosemary and mint. He took another sip and then used his foot to point towards a second cup that sat perfectly on the edge of the golden-rimmed table. “I hope you slept well.”

“A little too well,” Vrea muttered and avoided the cup altogether. “Almost as if someone drugged me.”

She never fell asleep as fast and as mind-numbing as that before, the black-less slumber that consumed her without any dreams or nightmares, even if she’d been placed in her own nightmare for the last three years. Which led her suspicion towards the glass of water she had greedily chugged down before bed. One that held a bitter aftertaste of a sleep sedative, if she was correct.

“I wonder who would do such a dreadful thing.” He mused, leaning back into the couch even more as his hands wrapped around the porcelain teacup. Golden dragonflies curved around the rim, chasing one after the other in a playful, almost sweet pattern. But Vrea knew better than to refer to anything inside of Carylim’s walls as sweet . “But you needed a full night of unburdened slumber. Within the next twenty-seven days, there’s going to be quite a journey ahead of us. This was your last night to spend in a bed of any sort.”

She mentally counted out the days.

“We’re riding back to Niroula?” Vrea questioned as she rounded the corner and halted in front of him. “Not walking?”

Because being on foot for the lengths between the two Kingdoms would have taken over two months depending on weather and travel conditions, as well as supplies and whoever was tackling the trek.

Rian confirmed with a solitary dip of his square jaw. “If you’re not opposed to it. Horses can carry more supplies than we could on our own backs, as well as provide us with more energy as we won’t be wasting it on walking as much. There will be moments where we’ll have to give the horses a break, but I’m sure you can handle it.”

Vrea silently agreed.

“We’ll have to pass through the Blackleg Caverns, and exit on the other side of the pass, avoiding the Carylimian border. There’s a good chance that once word spreads of your dashing escape, that we’ll be hunted. I want to stay as far away from the main road as possible, to avoid the guardhouses stationed alongside it. They don’t care so much about commoners but my face is known, which means they’ll take a closer look at my travelling companions.”

She sighed, understanding where they would have to venture past. “Which means entering into the Niroulian war grounds.”

“Precisely. I have a plan for that, but we don’t have to worry about that until it’s time to cross.” He finished his tea, his throat moving thrice as he swallowed the remainder and gagged on the bitter leaves. The Prince set it down and wiped at his mouth, chuckling slightly at his own foolishness.

“Care to share with me?” Vrea lifted a brow.

“Nothing you need to worry about until we get there.” The male waved her off and irritation hooked in her gut like it was a fish that she needed to catch for lunch and roast over a make-shift spit.

She wanted to roast him over a spit.

“For someone who wants me to trust them, you’re quite withdrawn on sharing details that I’ll need to be privy to if we’re going to make this work.” Vrea was a ticking explosion of patience, with passing seconds until she blew up.

Normally she held no issue with waiting things out. But there was something irksome about him that sped it along.

Rian stood, crossing over the room until he stopped in front of her. “I solemnly vow to you that I’ll include you when the time is right. But as of right now, it’s the only bartering chip I have to make sure that you don’t slit my throat and leave me for dead once I’ve gotten you past the Blacklegs. Not only do we have to face the monstrous spiders, but fear of the bandits that lurk in the mountainous walkways. One challenge at a time, Princess.”

Vrea swished her cheek and chewed on her inner lip as she contemplated his explanation, as she contemplated him. “I still don’t trust you.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.” He shrugged and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his trousers. “Because I don’t particularly trust you, either. I think it’s wise on both of our parts to keep that kernel of doubt and mistrust until it can otherwise be proven.”

“Fine.” She agreed and held her arm out.

He eyed it like it would shift into a malicious serpent and sink poisoned fangs into his skin. There was an urging temptation to bite him herself, even if her teeth were far from deadly. There was still the ability to rip off a chunk of sinew and toss it across the room.

Her joy for the delightful idea must have shown across her expression because he pulled away as soon as he reached to lock fingers with her.

“You look as though you’ve devised a devious plan for my demise,” Rian commented, letting his gaze run up and down her in a not-subtle way that made her eyes want to sink back into her head. “At least provide me the common decency to wait until we’re on the road.”

“Even if I was, I wouldn’t share my darkest fantasies with you.” Vrea wiggled her hand in a vain attempt to get him to shake it for an agreement between the two of them.

“I suppose that’s fair.” He studied it once more before finally clasping his palm against hers, dragging up and down once. “But if there’s anything you require before we depart, then you should do it now. We leave within the next twenty minutes.”

Rian pulled away and bent over, fiddling with his own bag that looked as if he’d filled it to the brim with unnecessary supplies. He rifled through it, flipping the flap over until he withdrew something that caused her to freeze.

Her knives.

Untouched and just as she remembered them.

Not sent back to Vasthold, her mother’s home as she’d thought they surely would have been.

Rian hesitated as she stared at them, as if he was reconsidering the option to hand them over. “I don’t give these back to you lightly. If I do, then there needs to be the understanding that I know you’re more than a pretty woman; but a weapon. One that could defend herself fairly well without these blades, but I also wouldn’t leave you without protection on our travels. Like I said before, we’re going to be facing quite a bit of treacherous things and I’d rather my attention solely be focused on the enemies that we’ll be facing instead of worrying about you.”

“Where did you get them?”

“It’s a secret.” He flipped them around so that the handles faced her. “Promise me that one of these won’t end up in my back when I’m not looking.”

She silently nodded and he gave them to her.

Vrea tenderly spun them, savouring the hefty feel of the familiar metal in her grasp once more. She fingered the black leather handles and the simple argent hilts, the sable sheaths and the end that tipped in metal. She removed them one at a time, careful not to cut herself on the vicious steel that still gleamed in the sunlight, as if someone had polished them every day during her imprisonment.

Teminos had been the one who’d given the weapons to her, as a gift for being born into the fantastic family of warriors. One that she realised was meant to come across as sarcastic as time flew by and she’d come to understand his snipping tone better. But these knives were some of her most prized possessions and she was more than surprised to see them again.

Vrea had completely expected the King to throw them out, send them back to her family as a mocking taunt, or melt them down and turn them into something new. To rub her face in the fact that he could destroy everything that was precious to her.

“I’ve tossed one of Orla’s coats onto the bed for you, as well as a belt that should fit your slender waist so that you can keep them on you at all times,” Rian instructed with a pointed finger towards his canopy rigging as the emerald curtains swayed in the autumn breeze. “It’s cold, and it’s only going to get colder so make sure to bundle up. If you need it, I’ve packed additional layers for both of us.” He motioned towards his bag. “But we can only carry so much. I’ve already asked the servants I trust most to provide rations for the road, as well as a handful of water skeins. They’ll have those prepared and waiting for us at the stables.”

Vrea could do nothing but listen as she took the coat from the bed and slipped her lean arms in, fastening the hooks together in the slanted opening until there wasn’t an ounce of her tunic visible from underneath. She tugged the belt off, noticing the cool green shade of it and remaining quiet as he went on.

“I know you can ride, since all royal members of any household are required to learn the skill, but I’ve hand-selected a mount that should be well suited for you. The saddles have been added with an additional layer of padding to help with chafing since we’re going to be riding for quite some time.” The Prince plucked his own azure jacket from a golden coat hook on the wall and adjusted it over his broad, muscled shoulders as he spoke.

“How are we getting past the guards and your father?” She questioned, fitting the thick belt over her high waist and moving it until the layers of fabric felt right, comfortable. “I highly doubt he’ll just let us walk out of here.”

“My father just so happens to be away for the week, busy with trying to figure out a way to kill more of your people,” Rian explained, a shadow of something not quite like regret falling over his face, but not far from it either. “So we’re going to walk out of here like that’s what we’ve been entrusted to do. It’s risky but if we saunter with purpose, then hopefully no one will question us.”

“Ballsy, but courageous. I’ll give you that. Since it’s obvious to anyone with eyes that you are your father’s choice for heir, I think they’ll find it reasonable that you’re the one chosen to escort me back home, if anyone were to do it.” Vrea picked up the first of her knives, angling it until she found the small metal hoop and securing it at her left side, thanks to the thin cord of green that was meant to hold a weapon in place. She repeated it on the other side. An immediate satisfaction and sense of security fell into place as soon as her weapons were back on her person.

Rian completed the buttons on his jacket, shuffling his shoulders as if he needed to test the limitations of the outerwear. “There’s always the chance of it failing, one that I hope we don’t come across.”

“And if we do?”

“Then we run like hell and pray that we make it.” He snorted, but she caught the seriousness in his medium resonance that he tried and failed to hide. “They’ll most likely chase us down and skin us alive if they catch us.”

“Good thing that I’m a fast runner, then.” She grinned and he returned it with a boyish one of his own that made her skin prickle in all the wrong ways.

Vrea tied a handful of stones to it and tossed it into the deep, dark ocean before it could transform into something else. Lust, desire, a heady want for the male was one thing, but anything past that was unacceptable. She was going to savour his death, enjoy it as her reason for being in this damned castle in the first place. A nice end to a chapter.

“Perfect. Keep up that cocksure attitude and I do not doubt that we’ll succeed in making it out of Hawksmoor without any incidents.” He dragged a hand through his auburn hair, messing it up from any style that he’d previously kept it in. “Are you ready to go?”

The female inhaled deeply, turning and taking a look at her surroundings. They may not have been the exact same as the ones that she’d been kept in for three years, but it would do. One last scan around to shove everything into her memory and fuel her anger, her confidence of escape and the chances of this working before they left for good. She hoped to never return to Hawksmoor or Carylim, unless there was a good reason.

Killing the King seemed good enough of one.

But there was no chance of getting to a place alone enough with the sovereign for her to try to wipe him out.

Killing Castil also held a certain amount of appeal that she couldn’t deny, even if she tried. Which she didn’t. She wondered about him then, about the fourth Prince and if he’d try to visit her, only to find that she’d slipped her bonds. She wondered if he would be the one to mercilessly hunt her down like a quicksilver bloodhound on a scented trail, or if he’d be the one to alert the King of Carylim to her disappearance.

Vrea thought if anyone would, it would be him.

But she pushed the White Knight out of the furthest reaches of her mind and spun back around to face the last Prince.

“I’ve been ready for a long time.”

Rian smiled and threw his bag over his shoulder as he finished buckling his sword onto his hip. “Then let’s go, Princess.”