Page 44 of The Freedom You Seek

Dion immediately stalked after me, and when we arrived at his mount, he hoisted both of us up without any of the gentle consideration he’d shown just minutes ago.

It was at this precise moment that I promised myself to figure out the mystery called Dion, even if it was the last thing I did.

“We’ll be heading toward the main road soon and will reach the border control station in about twenty minutes, so prepare yourself.” Fig appeared at my side, and I gave him my undivided attention. The upcoming hours could become a challenge, and I had to keep my wits together. Although Fig had high hopes of getting into Marsia smoothly, I remained unconvinced that it would be easy.

According to Ireas, the reward for capturing Nayana was unreasonably high, and even though she tried to disguise herself by braiding her hair tightly around her head, she remained highly recognizable. Her effort was useless. Yes, she’d suggested altering the color of her locks, andlater, when we rested, I caught her trying to cut her tresses, which I quickly stopped, after almost suffering a heart attack. That woman! As if I’d allow such senseless self-mutilation!

To make matters worse, Antas voiced the suspicion that Perran Feroy had issued the bounty money himself. While it wasn’t uncommon that towns used their coffers to reward the capture of an escaped convict, no mayor would promise the sum that was on Nayana’s head. No, this had Feroy written all over it. That annoying merchant had a lot of influence everywhere. If he was really as dedicated to the chase for her as we presumed, he’d have definitely spread the word beyond Iolesia.

So far, we’d been lucky enough to avoid any confrontation, but from experience, I could tell our days without an incident were numbered.

The border control could cause far more problems than I would like. As far as we knew, no one had found out Nayana was traveling with us yet. The size of our group created some kind of anonymity, at least to the eye of a casual onlooker—not that we’d met many people in the past weeks. If someone recognized her and got away, though, it would become public knowledge she was with five males, and our advantage would be gone.

I wasn’t joking earlier when I told her I’d have to kill everyone at the border control if things went to shit. Nor was I lying when I told her—again—I wasn’t a good person.

Gods, what had happened in that clearing was unfortunate. I still couldn’t fathom how a simple ruse had evolved into such a weirdly tender moment.

When I’d realized that she’d been losing herself in the past and her memories, I’d been done for, and thinking about how to comfort her had become a priority. It definitely was the last time I allowed myself to be carried away like that, no matter how much the tiny woman and her discomfort affected me.

Now that I’d cooled down and could hold her without burning up from the inside, my inner voice was relentless.

Jama stayed silent the whole time since we’d started riding again, but I considered that a blessing. Hopefully, she kept it up at the border too.

My gaze roamed over to Fig, and I observed him discussing something with Thain. The redhead nodded and I furrowed my brows, since I had no idea what they were talking about, which I hated. Lately, everything involving Thain annoyed me to no end.

Before I could interfere in their conversation, the border station came into view. Although small, the checkpoint was heavily fortified. The solid stone wall separating Iolesia and Marsia was about fifteen feet high, a remnant of a past when the two nations were foes in a war.

One should think that a world with only one monarch would stop the rulers of the countries from feuding with each other, but not every Ivreian king of the past had seen it like that.

Especially King Amarion, an ancestor of the current king, Pritatus, had been cruel in his later winters, oftenprovoked two countries into skirmishes, then picked a side to support—all to stave off boredom and grief.

Amarion was also the earliest king the Ivreian citizens were able to find in their history books, but his involvement in the many national wars had been twisted, of course. And so his legacy would forever be that of the peacemaker who ended every war that had broken out just by getting involved.

This showed once again how there were always two ways to look at history—and the common people usually only learned the one that had been written through the lens of the victor. What a sham if I were asked.

The wall was also the reason we had to cross an actual border control. The Marsians were nationalistic, highly picky about who was allowed to enter their country, and their law enforcement was strict. While it would have been possible to scale the barrier between the countries unseen, we couldn’t afford to lose our horses.

Two watchtowers stood on either side of a massive iron gate, and I wrinkled my nose. The doorway was closed and guarded by five heavily armed men in Marsian uniforms—highly trained soldiers. Even though I was aware of the pedantry with which Lord Osario Kalcas of Marsia enforced border security, I was taken aback by the extensive precautions, considering the war between Iolesia and Marsia had ended decades ago, and there had been peace ever since.

A small line of perhaps ten groups was waiting, and a man in fisherman’s garb was talking to a sixth guard whose uniform and insignia indicated he held ahigher rank than his comrades; I’d guess he was a captain. After they’d exchanged a few words, he nodded to the towers, and the gate slowly opened.

My jaw worked. If we were denied to cross the border, the whole situation would be even more challenging than I’d expected. Not only would we have to fight the guards—not that I doubted who’d win such an encounter, and well, it wasn’t the Marsian soldiers—and dispose of any witnesses arriving after us, but we’d also have to operate the gateway. That could potentially cause a confrontation with evenmoreguards and civilians on the other side. This all spelled disaster.

I should have just torn down a part of the wall deep in the forest, Fig’s orders be damned. My magic was restlessly waiting near the surface, eager to come out and play, but I pushed down the compulsion to allow it to happen, trying not to think too much in detail about how good it would feel to just let go and destroy the soldiers.

The line moved slowly, and behind us, more travelers lined up.

In front of me, Jama stirred and grew more agitated by the second. Maybe I shouldn’t have told her about the bounty, but I firmly believed coddling her wouldn’t help. She needed to toughen up, or else this world would eat her up before it spat her out again.

“I think I might be getting sick,” she said.

I leaned in to whisper in her ear, trying not to inhale her citrusy, grassy scent. I didn’t need that kind of distraction. “Keep it together, Jama. You see all these people? Ifyoubreak, it’ll be alltheirlives. Keep in mind what’s on theline.” Was I cruel? Undoubtedly, but it was all for a good cause.

Our eyes locked briefly, and I observed the flicker of anger in hers with fascination as it darkened the color from a bright cerulean blue to a shade of cobalt. No matter how often I witnessed the change—which always happened when she was feeling strong emotions—it captivated me every time.

I smiled back in false sweetness. It was showtime. “Would you like something to drink,wife?You seem parched, and if you deny me because of a self-inflicted headache tonight, I won’t be too generous.” I’d raised my voice, and at least one of the soldiers had picked on my comment because he laughed and gave me a conspiratorial nod in fake male companionship. I fought down the urge to rip his head clean off his shoulders.

“Oh, how worried you are for my health,husband.” Jama flashed her best sarcastic smile. “I don’t need to have a headache to deny you my bed.”