Page 35 of Nightingale (The Broken Kingdoms #1)

H e stayed the night by her side, resting into the day as well until Amir entered without warning, and glared down at Rian. Enough so that Vrea told him to knock it off before she kicked him out. Amir had informed her that he would be letting her mother know, which then she informed him that the Queen didn’t need to know of her bedroom activities.

Vrea wasn’t really sure what her mother would make of this situation since she didn’t care who her children took into their beds, as long as it was consensual. No titles, no stations mattered, but this was also different because of who had entered her bed, and by proxy- her.

It remained a tense subject, even now as Vrea rode through the cities, passing by small houses and dwellings. They’d packed up the remainder of their items, mostly given from the war camp and the chests that Vrea had in her tent, before borrowing mounts and leaving for Vasthold.

There was no sign of their horses.

It would take them seven days, if they were lucky. Amir insisted on joining just as she’d predicted beforehand, along with five other men who volunteered that rode at their sides and back as Amir took up the lead. Rian was at her side, quiet after he’d applied another round of medicinal paste to his wound and folded the linen back around his shoulder, throwing a new shirt atop it all.

Vrea was grateful for the guarded company, considering that the wild plains-cats could leap out from the sandy dunes at any moment, looking for their next meal. They weren’t as large as a horse, but big enough to take down a human with a swipe of their clawed paw. On her way to the war efforts before, she’d witnessed an attack on her armed escort.

One that stuck with her.

She wasn’t a fan of the massive felines, even if their smaller counterparts could have nice features. There were stray cats that darted around Vasthold that she enjoyed. Including one that she’d kept and trained as her personal pet. Vrea highly doubted she’d come back to find the male cat still waiting for her.

Amir had found the orange creature sneaking through the kitchens as it stalked a mouse and after he fed it a bowl of milk, he’d brought it to her. She’d liked the cat enough to name it and feed it, which kept the feline coming back. He was allowed to roam wherever and the servants knew that it belonged to her. But with the years gone, Vrea was sure the cat thought she abandoned it.

Rian was tense as they rode through the first night, aiming to make it before winter hit. It wouldn’t be anywhere near as terrible as Carylim, but it still wouldn’t be pleasant. Blistering winds that drafted the sand up in tunnels of gold and grit, a chilling temperature that allowed her to bring out her badger-fur cloak, and lined pants.

At least they didn’t get snow like Carylim did.

She’d heard tales of how the white powder could freeze one’s toes off if they weren’t properly dressed. How the mountains became even more dangerous with potential avalanches instead of regular rockslides. There was even talk of how high the snow could get, if the winter was worse than the one previous.

In her three years locked away in Hawksmoor Keep, she’d never seen a season as bad as they all suggested. There had been snow, but fat flakes that didn’t stay for long. It was cold enough to keep the balcony doors shut for the last year that she’d been allowed to open and close them, and biting enough that she’d piled on the velvet robes and fur-lined slippers they’d offered her.

Nothing like the fall breezes they experienced as they rode for her mother’s castle.

Whenever they stopped for the night, Amir slept by her side, watching over her for certain hours of the evening and then having another take his guard as he rested. He refused to let Rian stay with her, and she knew that it was pointless to try to argue against him and his iron-clad logic.

She’d already pushed his limits enough.

Rian was set towards the back of the bedrolls, alongside two other men that observed him warily. They didn’t bind him, because she flat out denied their request, much to Amir’s chagrin. But he slept soundly, without issue according to the men.

They ate in the early hours and the late, snacking on dried figs and roasted camel meat that Amir had packed, with full water skeins that passed back and forth between them all. The first half of the week went by in a sand-filled blur as their horses staggered through the dunes, passing by villages that were scattered about the territory.

Rian remained quiet for most of it, contemplating his own thoughts and actions if the scrutinising look on his handsome face was any indication. She missed their jaunty conversations, the sarcastic lilt of his medium resonance, the way he met her fire with his own. Even if the sentries were better in the long run for their protection and security, there was a part of her that wished it was just the two of them once again.

Vrea caught his eye on her a couple times each day, with a heart-fluttering smile that usually followed. There was no time for them to be alone, to have a moment to themselves as Amir lingered around her constantly. Which was a drag because her body ached for another round and she desperately wanted to give in to it. By the winks he sent her way, Rian looked as though he did too.

Which only made the long trek feel even more impossible. Luck was not on their side either, dragging into a couple more days of the aching ride.

When the eighth day came, and Vasthold was within sight, she couldn’t deny herself an hour with him.

It wasn’t long before they’d reach the towering castle, and her family who hated his people. Before they would have no time at all, since her brothers would drag him away before he could get a single word in to her.

Vrea pulled her horse back, earning a neigh of protest as she waited for him to catch up. Amir shot her a glare, disdain and unhappiness clear in his onyx eyes. But she held her place firm, refusing to canter back up to her place in the line, refusing to do anything but hold for the Prince who steadily made his way to her with a click of his tongue.

She was the Princess, not Amir.

Though the image of him in a crown and frilly skirts lightened her mood quite a bit.

Rian was tired, obvious by the light purple bags that hung around him, ushering his mount to pick up the pace until he was directly across from her. He yanked in the leather leash, jerking the mount to a slow, steady walk.

“Hello, Vre.” Rian greeted her with the shortened version of her name. She didn’t mind it so much anymore, not when it came from him. It wasn’t as personal as Nightingale, but she preferred a nickname from him rather than his brother.

“You need to turn around.” Vrea said immediately, glancing behind her as if she could see the Niroulian border that they’d left eight days ago. “Go back to the war camps and go home. I’ll order Amir to accompany you so that you’ll make it without any harm, but you need to turn around.”

She made sure he heard the warning in her voice.

“Pining for another one of my brothers? Brioc, perhaps? You won’t find any pleasure there, nor will he with you. You’re not his type, I’m afraid. You are my second eldest brother’s, but that’s not saying much. I doubt you’d enjoy anything he has to offer. Or maybe it’s Castil you secretly yearn for?” He playfully crooned but she sensed the hint of seriousness within. A shadow crossed over his face, seeping into the panels and twisting his expression into a near dark look.

Then it was gone.

“Too bad, because you’re stuck with me.”

The thought of offering herself up to any of them was disgusting. Brioc would have been the best out of the three, but there wasn’t a single idea of enjoyment between Regulus or Castil. Regulus wouldn’t care for her wants, her desires or even her pleasure. She knew that without having to think too long on the matter. And Castil didn’t look at her as if she were a person, but an object to be owned. The way he ordered her around on the last night of the party only further proved that.

She pursed her lips in vexation. “I don’t want any of your brothers. What I want, is for you to live.”

Rian considered, “I think I’d enjoy that too.”

“You won’t live if you continue to come with us.” Vrea insisted, allowing her horse to keep up a regular pace. It slipped and slid with the sand, stomping it down before taking another step. There were no signs of jumping sand-serpents and she was more than grateful for that. Though, she wouldn’t see them until they were already leaping for their victims.

“My mother will kill you as soon as she lays her eyes on you. Not to mention Alpheus, or Eamin. Hell, even Teminos might try to take you down for the sake of spilling Moordian blood.”

He licked the top row of his teeth. “Vrea, I can handle myself. I don’t plan on making myself an enemy with your family. I told you from the start, I’m coming along to bring peace. If we can stop this war, then I think your mother will feel as though I’ve done my part in order to gain her trust.”

She didn’t answer, thinking over his words.

Rian must have thought she looked fearful, must have thought she didn’t believe him because he said, “I promise you that I won’t let her kill me.”

“How do you plan to propose peace?” Vrea asked out of the blue, ignoring his last vow. In all their time together, over the days and hours they’d been forced to endure, she realised that he’d never elucidated the exact facts to her. She’d never heard a single detail, even by a slip up. He was careful, cautious, wary, even around her.

It struck her as odd.

They’d shared personal details, shared a bed even but he’d never shared his ultimate plan with her.

Rian spotted the men behind them, the two near their sides and Amir at the very front of the charge. Who kept dragging his attention back to them, eyebrows folded into his forehead for a few minutes, turning back around before his horse could absentmindedly be led into a sand dune or palm tree.

He chewed on his lips before turning his head towards her and saying, “I’d really prefer to wait until we’re out of the public to share those details with you. If you don’t mind waiting a day or two more, just until we reach Vasthold and I can tell you in the confines of a room where prying eyes and ears can’t hear us, then I swear to tell you everything.”

Vrea’s too-tight head was a wardrum of tense anxiety, pooling of thick dread in her stomach and her heart was a heavy beat that she could barely focus on. There was the sensible part that told her she needed to demand his entire plan, here and now. It shouldn’t have mattered who was listening, who could possibly overhear them if he truly intended for peace.

But then there was that other side of her.

The one that had seen the other sides to him.

The one that wanted to let him hold onto his secrets for now, wanted to rely on him enough that he could tell her in a little more than twenty-four hours. She was fine with waiting, when impatience wasn’t something she claimed.

Rian studied her, “I know I’m asking quite a bit of you, Vrea. I know that with the way our families have been set up to hate each other, even going so far as to killing the other, it’s a lot for me to ask.”

It was water to the steaming smoke of her worry.

“Please, trust me.” He quietly pleaded with her, and her folly heart lurched for him. “I beg of you.”

Rian looked every bit of a Prince at the moment, with his red hair that fell into his face, his midnight eyes that she liked more than she should have. Even his fawn skin glowed under the autumnal sun, with a grace and beauty that only belonged to his paler sibling.

That part of her that teetered back and forth, toed a line of caution on the fence that she considered to be dangerous, fell over. And Vrea realised that she’d started to fall in love with him.

So she nodded once, silently.

There were no words for that, nothing that could enter her head and mouth that would make sense, that would soothe the desperate ache of understanding that shot through her like a hurdling spear.

His face broke out into a brilliant grin that held her captive. “Thank you, Vre.”

“Of course.” She tried to bob her throat, to remove her mouth of the dreadful taste of horror that she began to love the fifth Prince of Carylim, and her supposed enemy. Vrea knew that this would not end well, but she couldn’t help it.

She’d fallen for him.