Page 13

CHAPTER 13

A s a soldier, Callum had endured grueling weeks of training, military campaigns, and all manner of marches, exercises, and drills. Yet he didn’t think his body had ever been so sore as when he woke the morning after the shipwreck. His back cracked ominously when he sat up, and he was sure he heard his knees give a creaking groan as he hefted himself to his feet. His arms felt as if someone had set them aflame. If he had access to a bed, he would surely collapse into it and sleep for a fortnight.

Laena was already up and about, dowsing the last embers of their campfire with dirt and stones while her shimmerling skittered through the tall grasses at the edge of the campsite, visible only by the pink licks of its tail. If Laena’s muscles were sore, she wasn’t showing it; she appeared capable of bending and stretching.

One bend like that, and Callum was sure he’d snap in two. She looked pretty doing it, though. Her figure was a shapely one, and make no mistake. Her arms were strong and well formed, though he admitted her limbs were not the part of her that most engaged his attention .

What had that fool stablehand been thinking, leaving a woman like her? Yesterday’s ordeal would have left most people whimpering on the ground. Demons, it had him wishing he could whimper on the ground. Yet here she was, finishing off the morning watch without complaint. She almost seemed to be enjoying it.

When she noticed him standing there, she gave him a businesslike nod that reminded him more of the no-nonsense palace housekeeper who ran the grounds at Hawk’s palace than any princess he’d yet encountered. If she realized he’d been leering at her like an untried youth, she wouldn’t hesitate to heft the largest stone she could find and crack him over the head with it.

“I found a creek nearby,” she said. “About fifteen minutes away.”

Callum rubbed a hand over his face, trying to dislodge the sleep from his mind. And the lust—might as well be frank about it. “You went traipsing through the woods on your own?”

She gave him an exasperated look. “We needed to find water, and you were dead to the world.”

“There are wild creatures in these woods,” he said. “And bandits.”

Laena cocked an eyebrow at him. “Then perhaps the captain of the King’s Guard might work to rectify that problem.”

She’d been honest with him last night. The honorable thing would be to tell her that he was no longer the captain of anything, and that he’d stolen this entire expedition out from under its rightful leader. Ass though the man might be.

But she’d woken in good humor, and he didn’t wish to spoil it. So he said, “You may have a point.”

“Assuming you do still believe we landed in your country, that is.” It sounded like a statement, but it was a question. She would not have traveled to the continent herself.

Callum didn’t know of anywhere else along the coast that hosted such a thick band of forest. Perhaps northern Silerith. But they could not have traveled that far, even on such violent tides, and he suspected the cold there would make for very different foliage.

He also suspected they would have been caught and arrested already. It had been some time since the Ruthless King had allowed anyone to cross his borders. Hawk’s spies had skimmed the edges, playing with danger, but no one had delved that far into enemy territory without disappearing into Silerith’s wilds.

Silerith, on the other hand, seemed intent on sending people out beyond its borders. Though he’d not seen the person responsible for the ship’s doom yesterday, it was Silerith he suspected. He’d spent enough time ghosting back and forth across its borders, raiding dens of heart-tithers and getting his hands dirty—breaking accords on King Magnus’s orders while knowing the king would deny any involvement, should Callum be caught.

He knew Silerith better than any other Aglyean or Etran could. Their leniency toward heart-tithers gave the magic a chance to grow, to fester into the kind of evil that could cause a storm like the one they’d survived.

“We’re in Aglye for certain,” he said. “If we follow the coast toward the northeast, we’ll reach Inasvale.”

“How long will that take?”

“It depends on where we landed. From the southern tip of the forest, I would guess five days walking. And I see no end of the trees in either direction, so the journey ought to be shorter.”

“If the sky will cooperate tonight,” Laena said, “we might chart our position that way.”

She might not know much of the mainland, but he’d be a fool to ignore her knowledge of the sea and stars. He nodded.

They made their way to the creek she’d found. By then his thirst was nearly unbearable, but he forced himself to drink slowly. They washed as best they could—Laena went so far as to dip her head into the water so she could tie her curls back into a plait—and then they began walking, keeping the creek on their left. They should stay with fresh water as long as it ran in the general direction of Inasvale.

As long as the ocean waves sparked occasional glints through the trees to their right, he would know they were headed in the right direction.

What would Hawk say, when he learned their ship had been lost? Callum hoped he’d send soldiers—though that was likely a certainty, given that Callum had stolen his delegation in the first place. Was it too much to hope that he’d have kept General Moore back in Vunmore, so as not to risk outing Callum’s insolence to the Etran delegation?

“How long have you served as captain of the King’s Guard?” Laena asked, startling him out of his thoughts.

“Since I turned eighteen,” he said. “Though for a few years, it was more of a ceremonial title.”

He’d been raised with Hawk, Thaddeus, and Emilia, King Magnus treating him like another son. Part of the family. Callum would have stepped aside in favor of Thaddeus, but the prince had never wished to be a soldier.

“And how long ago was that?” Laena asked.

“Ten years ago.” Give or take a few weeks of disgrace.

“And how do you like it?”

As they traipsed along through the woods, she stepped easily over logs and rocks, skirting around large sections of ferns. The shimmerling had perched itself on top of her head, its neck extended, tongue darting out every few seconds as if to smell the adventure. It ought to look funny, but somehow it looked right.

It was still quite a thing, to look over and see a creature of legend. He wondered when Aglye had last seen a shimmerling on its shores. Hundreds of years ago, perhaps.

He glanced at Laena, her head quirked to the side. Still waiting on a response .

How did he like being captain? It was not a question he was ready to answer.

“Are you an inquisitor?” he asked, deflecting. “Investigating my past?”

“No,” she replied, drawing the word out into one long syllable. “I just figured we ought to have some conversation. Otherwise, you might well die of boredom.”

“And you won’t?”

She stepped over a tree root. “Not I. Look at these trees. How the light shines through them. I could live here forever.”

Callum followed her gaze to the canopy, where the sun did indeed shine through the leaves, making them look like stained glass. They rustled gently in a breeze he couldn’t feel through the depth of the forest. But it didn’t follow that the place was stuffy; in fact, the shade made it cool and pleasant. Birds skimmed from branch to branch, chasing each other through the foliage.

The place even smelled green, each breath filling him with the scents of damp earth and growing things. Alive. It smelled alive .

“You underestimate me, I think,” he said. “I would not mind living here forever.”

When she smiled, the expression lit her entire face. It dimpled her cheeks most enticingly and set her green eyes to dancing, like they wished to join the leaves overhead. “Where would you build, then?” she asked.

He was not well practiced at games or make-believe, but at this moment, he thought he might do anything to keep that smile on her lips. “I think I should build right here,” he said. “Near the creek for water. Near the ocean for fishing.”

“A cottage?” she asked. “Something modest? With animals to care for and such?”

He wondered if that resembled the life she’d built for herself. A farm, tucked away in the grasslands of Etra. They didn’t have forests, not like this one, but rural countryside made up most of the island. She said she’d found the crystal in her garden; he found himself wondering if it had been a large garden. Did she feed herself upon its contents? Keep chickens for eggs, goats for milk? How different from the life she’d been raised in.

Perhaps it suited her. Perhaps she loved it well. But perhaps… perhaps she could have a bit of both worlds.

That, he suspected, was not the game.

“Not I,” he said. “It will be a palace for me.” She opened her mouth to respond, but he held up a finger to stop her. “But I shouldn’t want to tear down even a single tree. Livestock means tearing down trees.”

“So do palaces, I hear.”

“And yet, it must be a palace. Nothing less.”

She looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Then how?—”

“I would build among the branches themselves, I think. After securing the trees’ permission, of course. I’d bring the wood in from elsewhere.”

“By what road?” She laughed, and somehow he thought it was something she didn’t do very often. Not half as often as she deserved. If he had his way, he’d hear that sound again and again. “You must tear down trees to make a road,” Laena said.

“Not I. I should sail the materials in by the sea.”

“Why, Callum Farrow,” she said, still laughing. “I didn’t think you had any whimsy in you.”

Neither had he. She unearthed it in him, apparently. “And how long has it been,” he said, holding a branch aside so she could pass unhindered, “since you allowed yourself such an indulgence?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. Her smile faded, though it didn’t disappear entirely; it merely shifted to a rueful curve, her brow crinkled as if in conflict with itself.

Should he ever meet that stablehand, he’d shake the man. Hard .

“What do you think, Captain?” she asked. “Does Etra have a chance of gaining an alliance with Aglye?”

“Callum,” he said, without thinking. He didn’t wish to hear his former rank from her anymore. “If you’re Laena, then I’m Callum.”

“Very well. Callum. Same question.”

He was not privy to the king’s political plans, but logic said Hawk would not have sent the delegation to Etra without some hope of gaining an alliance. It was an odd choice, though; like his father before him, Hawk stayed largely aloof, preferring distance between Aglye and the other nations.

Yet the borders had been more active lately. Perhaps he did fear attack out of Silerith, a more direct attack than secret assassins. Perhaps Hawk’s spies knew more of the Ruthless King’s plans.

Instead of answering, Callum stalled. “You’re helping your sister, despite how badly she treats you. Why?”

Laena frowned, clearly cataloging his sidestep. He would have to answer her question eventually. For now, however, she allowed it to pass. “I’m here to help Etra, not only my sister. Katrina is… difficult at times, it’s true. But she’ll be an excellent queen.”

“As you would have been.” It wasn’t his place to say, but he didn’t regret it. Someone had to say it, and it was more than clear that no one in Etra planned to do so.

Despite the epic ballads and swirl of romantic gossip around her flight from the palace, Callum could not help but feel that there was more to Laena’s abdication than love for a commoner. Especially since that commoner had left her—presumably after realizing he would never be king, nor would he live in a palace.

Though perhaps that was unfair. Perhaps they had merely found their differences too great to overcome. Or that they were not as well matched as they’d initially believed.

But still, it felt as if there was something more. As if relinquishing the crown had been a great sacrifice, one Laena had not wanted to make. Perhaps it was more about Katrina than it was about the stablehand, though Laena must have cared for the man. Again, a spark of anger heated his stomach at the fact that the horse’s ass had left her, after all she’d sacrificed for him. And the spark of anger only grew stronger when he thought of the way Katrina treated her. The way she clearly hungered for the throne.

And yet… there was something more to the story. He could feel it.

“Katrina wanted it more,” Laena said, after a time. “I believe that will help her to rule.”

Callum knew from experience that wanting to rule did not always translate to ruling more effectively. It might be a cynical thought, but he sometimes felt as if the opposite were true. But this was obviously a story Laena was telling herself, and he wasn’t sure how hard he should push against it.

He had no desire to anger her. Whatever he’d done to provoke her anger after their first meeting—and there was no doubt he must have done something —she seemed to have forgiven him. For now.

So on they walked, in companionable silence, until the sun once again began to sink toward the horizon.