Look to the Stars (The Orien Trilogy Book 1)

by Catherine Wilson

  Across her back, Aras tightens our packs to the saddle with a scowl big enough to scare any creature in these woods. “Skies above, Prince. The least you could do is be considerate of those around you. I just ate a hearty meal before I showed up here, and I’m going to be all kinds of hot if you make me lose an ounce of it for a few amateur lines and one drawn-out goodbye.”

  My eyes dart to Ian in panic, but true to his usual composed self, he simply shrugs and offers me a warm smile, as if Aras doesn’t have the personality of a rotting tree. I try to smile back, and once he looks away, I immediately flick Aras across the hand as he fiddles with the saddle. His eyes pop up, and I reward him with a menacing glare.

  “Oh, I forgot to say please. Forgive me.” He nods, sending me a wink before he strolls over to Bates, who watches rather impassively by the side of our other stolen horse.

  As if on cue, a low growl fills the air, and I clutch my throat, worried the sound has come from my own, before I feel the soft nudge of Papa’s snout against my leg. I crouch before him, my arms wrapping him up with one last hug. We’ve already said our long goodbyes, but I can tell he’s still not happy with my decision. While it will hurt to be so far apart, I need him with Ian. After what happened with Reeve, I’m not taking any chances with Papa. So when I take my leave, he will follow Ian back to Theron. Even though we still can’t communicate, I know he’s worried about how the others will receive a giant cat in their city. After all, when he first left Ashen to rush to her side, he only got just outside the gates before he had to turn back and look out for me. We can only trust that Ian will keep him safe, and as a bonus, perhaps he will be able to see my mother, as well.

  “Be safe,” I whisper into his silken fur. “We’ll see each other again soon. I promise.”

  Papa’s head tilts to the side as he eyes Aras and Bates over my shoulder. A low purr forms within his chest, and more than anything, I wish he could tell me what he’s thinking. When we first arrived back at camp, Aras had called my papa to the side and spoke to him in low, desperate tones. At first, I thought that maybe he was apologizing for letting me out of his sight, but now as Papa’s eyes watch Aras pack any remaining gear, I can’t help but worry that it was about something else.

  “We’ll be fine,” I say, trying to pull his gaze back to my own. “You’ll see.”

  Seemingly unmoved, I’m afraid he doesn’t hear me, or worse, that he doesn’t want to believe the words I have to say. But then his eyes focus back on mine, and his head shakes in the slightest of nods. So before I can regret my decision, I run a swift hand across his head and rise to my feet.

  “Are you two riding together,” I call to Aras and Bates, “or can I assume that I’m going to have to share this glorious horse?”

  Bates responds with his typical scowl, while Aras saunters to my side with a smile in his twinkling eyes that only I can see.

  “Princess,” he says, holding up his hand and offering to help me up.

  I tsk, choosing to ignore his hand and mount the beast of my own accord. “Surely, you must know me better,” I chide.

  Aras pays me no heed as he launches himself behind and wraps a firm arm around my waist. “Of course I do. Just as surely as you know I won’t be held accountable for any passing limb that may accidently knock your skinny hide from this horse.”

  “Well then,” I muse, “I guess we should consider ourselves even?”

  He smiles against my ear, bringing a shiver across my limbs. “Absolutely.”

  Nudging Ian’s poor horse with his boot, he sends us forward with a painful lurch. My eyes flash to the side in search of Papa, and I find him waiting just where I asked him to be—by Ian’s side.

  “Goodbye,” I call out lamely, not trusting myself to say much else in front of Bates. “Perhaps we’ll meet again.”

  “Perhaps we will, Penelope. Perhaps we will.”

  And it’s not until we’ve made it through the thickening trees and onto a modest, winding trail that I let myself begin to feel the sadness in his voice.

  ↄ

  The ride to Orien during the middle of the night is just as one would expect it to be—disorienting and more than a little unpleasant at best. Though there is something about the feel of Aras’ chest against my back and the soft touch of his breath against my hair that makes the situation tolerable. Except, of course, when Aras has an unfortunate itch on the tip of his nose, and he bends to rub his face across my shoulder with so much force that I fear I may very well topple off the horse.

  It’s during those times when I simply have to grit my teeth.

  More than once, I’ve caught myself dozing off, only to wake when my bobbing chin touches my chest. Each time, my eyes burst open, and I’m met with the shadowy planes of Bates’ back as he carries the torch in front of us, leading the way through the twisting path. It’s then, and only then, that I allow myself a few forceful whispers to Aras, afraid if I say much more, I’ll ruin whatever game he’s started to play with my father’s most loyal guard.

  “Tell me again why we couldn’t have just waited until morning. I was always under the impression that a late horse was much better than a lame one.”

  “Is that so?” Aras responds with a twinkle of amusement lining his voice. “And here this whole time, I thought your clenched muscles and silent curses were because you were afraid of falling off and being trampled on the forest floor, when you were really just looking out for the horse’s well-being all along.”

  Oh, Ashen. I haven’t even considered being trampled.

  My arms jerk with an involuntary twitch as my hands tighten around the saddle, and his soft laughter fills my ears.

  “Well, these horses may be able to see where they’re going, but I sure can’t. If you don’t believe me, ask my face how many times a random limb has about gouged an eye out,” I bristle.

  Though he doesn’t make a sound, I feel the rumble of his laughter against my back, and I briefly consider pushing him off myself.

  “It’s just that I’ve never seen you so nervous before,” he prods. “You’ve hugged a panther, faced down a lunatic cousin, and lit the woods on fire. Yet, here you sit, pulled as tight as a bow ready to spring. So tell me, Bravest, what has you so riled up?”

  I snort at his scarily accurate analysis of my well-being and wither on the inside from embarrassment alone. He’s playing with me, this Aras Renn of Orien, and I’m quite sure he’s enjoying it, too. And though he probably knows it, he’ll never get a straight answer from me. I have a feeling Aras has riled up many women during his glorious twenty-one years of life, and I don’t intend to give his confidence more of a boost.

  “Oh, Aras. You know that whenever we’re in a room together, you have a tendency to spawn all kinds of mental breakdowns for my soul. Besides, maybe I’m just nervous about my reunion with my murderous father. I’m told he doesn’t care much for strangers, or family at all for that matter.”

  Suddenly, his cheek is upon me, and his soft lips are pressed lightly against my ear. “I think you’re hiding something,” he whispers as a host of shivers crawl up my neck.

  “And I think it’s completely unnecessary to actually touch my ear when speaking. I can hear you plain enough, thank you very much,” I hiss.

  The stubble of his chin rubs against my neck and his lips plant the softest of kisses behind my ear. “Perhaps you like it.”

  His blatant words alone are enough to send me careening off the horse, and his quick hands reach out to grab my wrists as my grip slips to the side.

  “Perhaps I don’t!” I squeal into the dark, breaking its silence like shattered glass.

  Startled, our poor horse lists sharply to the right, and Aras immediately begins his soft endearments to calm the beast before we end up in the scraggly underbrush below. For the first time all night, Bates comes to a halt, turning on his mount and watching the scene play out before him as if he’s just been witness to some captivating dance.

  Which he has.

 
; “Is everything alright back there?” he asks with a hint of annoyance lining his stiff voice.

  “Quite alright!” I call out, struggling to pull my shoulders back to an even perch. Meanwhile, Aras relaxes his arms to a loose hold around my waist as if he can’t get away fast enough. “Just dozed off and had a little nightmare is all. I tend to do that sometimes. Have nightmares, I mean. Not doze off.”

  Aras’ fingers tighten around the reins, and I take this as my cue to close my trap, biting my lip and producing what I hope is an innocent smile. Bates’ eyes narrow in what could be suspicion or downright hate, but fortunately for me, I don’t know him well enough to understand the difference between the two.

  I’ll just go ahead and assume hate.

  “I’m not sure if you noticed,” he drawls as we come to a halt near his side, “but we crossed the border not more than forty paces back. That means you shouldn’t run into any more unforeseen misfortunes, Princess, but with the company you keep, I suppose there’s always an element of unpredictability.”

  His cool eyes move to Aras as he speaks, and Ian’s warning by the river twitches in my mind. He obviously wasn’t bluffing when he said that Aras might be in trouble with the Orien king. Judging from the look on Bates’ face, if anything, I think that Ian may have downplayed it a bit.

  “Well,” I say, drawing his attention back to my face, “it seems I am in good hands now, and it does bring about a measureable amount of peace to know I’m finally home and out of hostile lands.”

  I smile smoothly, hoping the light from his torch catches the false array of hope I’m trying to display, and not the outright lies that just sprang from my teeth. Orien is not my home, nor will it be after I’m finished with this disaster of a newfound life. The only thing I’m remotely happy about is the feel of Aras at my back, and now even Bates’ blatant mistrust is making that unenjoyable.

  Can’t a newly discovered princess ever catch a break?

  “I suppose I should be pleased with your misplaced confidence, seeing as how you’re going to have to rely solely on him to make it the rest of the way home.”

  Behind me, I feel the subtle movement of Aras’ uncomfortable shift, as if he’s getting ready for yet another poorly timed secret to weasel out and wreak havoc against my soul. Without taking my eyes off Bates, I send a careful nudge to Aras’ stomach, hoping he’ll say something, anything, to make this all right.

  Thankfully, he takes my cue, though his words do little to settle my fears. “She’ll be fine, Bates. I’ll have here there by midday tomorrow, just as we planned, and no one will know the difference.”

  “You better,” he shoots back. “I don’t keep secrets, Aras, but you’ve pushed my hand. If she doesn’t arrive on time, Knox will know something is amiss, and I think you and I both know what happens when something is amiss.”

  “Nothing will be amiss,” Aras says, clenching his teeth, “unless you let our detour slip.”

  Bates’ eyes narrow and he opens his mouth to spew what I’m sure is bound to be ugly, when I hold up my hand, cutting him off in an attempt to gain some control of the confusing scene before me.

  “Why is my arrival such an issue? It’s not as if you don’t have control of this. You’re the one leading us on the horses, and so far, you’ve set a pretty hardened pace. If anything we’ll be there early, not late.”

  Bates responds with a bitter laugh, causing my shoulders to jump and my mind to worry that I’m come in cahoots with another madman. Behind me, Aras’ chest moves with a heavy sigh, and I turn in the saddle, determined to get a firm answer one way or another.

  “Do you remember when I told you that your father is unaware of your run-in with the Theron prince?” he asks, tilting his chin and placing a careful hand on my shoulder. “Well, we’d like to keep it that way. As far as your father knows, Bates returned home from his initial trip to Ashen, after he confirmed you were indeed Knox’s daughter, and set in motion the plans for your return to Orien. Right now, he’s on a well-deserved leave while he waits for your return outside the city’s gates, or so your father thinks.”

  “Or as Aras is trying to say in his dimwitted way, I’m saving his hide,” Bates cuts in, drawing my attention back to torch-lit face. “Though I should assure you that it has nothing to do with him and everything to do with me. There are just some things your father would never recover from, and your little sidetracked adventure is one of them. Let’s just say that Knox tends to act with a swift and heavy force, and I’m the only one close enough to him to ensure that his swift and heavy force strikes with accuracy. Otherwise, it’s just a bloodbath.”

  “So, you’re just going to go back to Orien and wait for my return as if nothing ever happened?”

  “Precisely.”

  “Then why even come with Aras? You knew he’d get me here just as well you could.”

  “There’s where you are wrong, Princess. I didn’t know he would, considering it was he who lost you in the first place. You see, Aras didn’t even tell me of your recent misfortunes, but thankfully, the trees have eyes, and they’ve always reported to me. Even though I may keep this one secret from your father, I do it for the good of us all, and while your father trusted him with your return, I wasn’t about to let my fate rest in the hands of Aras.”

  An unsettling feeling floods my stomach from the inside out, and I raise a shaky hand to my forehead, as if I could massage away the stress of this day and all the others before it. If Aras is in such big trouble with Knox, then why does Knox trust him so much?

  Not caring if Bates is unsettled by my actions or not, I lean my head back onto Aras’ chest and close my eyes, asking the question I probably should have asked all along. “Why are you charged with bringing me back? You were my mother’s guard, not his, and I think all of us here can agree that my parents’ relationship is dicey at best.”

  Aras stills, gathering his words, before reaching down and slowly pulling my hand from my face. “Because I asked him to let me.”

  Bates huffs, unbelief coursing through his stiff back. “I’m sure there was a little more involved than that.”

  “You already know the story, Bates,” Aras spouts, anger leaking from his pores. “It isn’t you who asked the question.”

  “You’re right, Aras, it isn’t,” Bates says, turning on his horse and pulling her back to the trail. “But perhaps you would do well to remember that there’s a difference between a simple request and a promise. Even I know better than that.”

  And then he leaves us, nothing but a fading ghost of white as his light floats through the trees, until it’s just the three of us left breathing heavily in the dark. A thousand questions tingle on my tongue, and I can feel the pathetic moisture building at the corners of my eyes. Behind me, Aras clears his throat, the motion alone rocking me forward like a lifeless doll.

  “I’ve never really liked Bates, anyway. It’s not such a shame that he’s gone.”

  His voice drips of sorrow, tinged with an underling of hope, and I turn in the saddle, reaching up and tilting his cheek down with my hand. The new day is almost among us; the soft hues of light pink just now starting to peek down from the trees. I hadn’t noticed until now, but the forest does seem different here, as if it’s trying to fool me with its open presence. A cage with wide links.

  “Are you going to be alright when we make it back to the city?” My words are soft, clearly lost in my worry, and I can barely make out the slight grimace on his face before it slips away into the turning sky.

  “I’ll be fine, Bravest,” he soothes, reaching up and taking my hand within his own. “Bates could tell the same story in a hundred different ways. He wouldn’t be true to himself if he didn’t mark his exit with at least one reference to impending doom.”

  “Besides,” he continues, this time with a genuine smile. “Despite his best efforts to ruin our day, he’s actually left us with a little gift.”

  “And what’s that?” I ask, still not completely convinced of h
is safety. “A heavy depression to go along with my unraveling nerves?”

  He laughs, startling our horse once more. Poor thing. Like me, she seems to have a quick switch between concern and outright hysteria. “No, you silly princess. Time, and lots of it.”

  His words cause what I’m sure is an ugly wrinkle of my brow. “How is that, exactly? You said we’d be there by tomorrow afternoon. You can’t tell me that the city is so close?”

  “If we left now, we’d arrive by midday, but we’re not expected until tomorrow,” he says as if I should have known this all along.

  No, dear Aras. Remember this is me. Brave. The girl you like to torment with your mysterious ways.

  “And so what are we just supposed to do?” I ask, pulling my hand from his and daring to wave it as much as I can without risking falling on my rear. “Wait around in the woods for the entire day and night, and start on the trek in the morning?”

  The thought alone produces a bit of panic in the last of my words, and I’m sure my spastic hand does nothing in terms of hiding it. I can’t take the idea of spending another night in any forest, even if this particular one is deemed safe.

  “I never said anything about spending another minute in these woods.” Aras smiles, grabbing my hand and pulling it back to his chest. He waits, making sure I’m looking up into his suddenly shy eyes before speaking softly again. “I’m talking about going to my home.”

  “Your home?” I choke.

  Aras has a home? Not some room shared with my little sister in Orien or some hole in the cellars?

  I chew on my lip, looking away from his knowing eyes and choosing to study the way my fingers can twist in unbecoming knots instead. I don’t know what to think of this new information exactly, but I do know that it changes things. Suddenly, this boy has become one with his own house, and it makes him seem, I don’t know, less like me and more grown-up.

  He dips his head and rests it on my own, trying to pull me from this unsure place in the very best way he knows how.