“We will, when the time is right.”
“And if that’s too late?”
Reylan looked at her, studied her, but she didn’t shrink back from his assessment. His eyes were filled with conflicting emotions. She couldn’t be sure what he was thinking. But nothing about the look felt condescending to her as a human who knew nothing and should have no input on the movements of war.
“All we can do is never surrender. Never bow to fear, never yield to odds, and always be ready. Until the end comes. I can’t soothe your worries with falsehoods. Hope is a sedation of fear; fairness is delusion against wrongdoing. Both make those on the right side feel as if they have the upper hand. Always see the enemy as equal as they have just as much desire to conquer as we do to survive.”
“Hope stops the spread of panic.”
“Yes, and for the people, it’s a wonderful thing. The heart of a warrior knows how much hope to hold to lift the spirit, but it makes room for the fear that will strike it in the fight to survive.”
Faythe looked away from him, over the city and beyond, as if she could picture the horizon as the front lines of the battlefield. As if Valgard lay in wait this very moment.
War wouldn’t come, because it had never left.
Reylan called it luck for her mortal lifespan to spare her from witnessing the pinnacle of death and carnage. For once, Faythe didn’t want that luck; she wanted to fight back.
Even if it meant her end and the war’s end became one and the same.
Chapter 22
Jakon
The night was still as Jakon sat on watch while the others slept. He was not alone, for the fae guard Caius insisted he stay awake too. Jakon felt guilty for not trusting him enough to take watch alone despite his offer. It had been tempting as his eyes protested the late hour, but he didn’t know the fae well enough to feel right about placing not only his own life in his hands—that didn’t matter—but that of the people behind him. They were his responsibility. Yet he was still grateful for Caius as he would alert them to any oncoming danger far sooner than Jakon’s human senses could detect.
They didn’t risk a fire. Jakon trembled slightly under the thick cloak he pulled tightly around him. He cursed the winter season as every breath became visible in the bitter air. The others huddled together for warmth, and he longed desperately to take the chill away from Marlowe who was using her whole body to shield a young girl. The sight brought a smile to his face and filled his heart with warmth.
“She has a fighting spirit,” Caius commented from opposite him, his eyes following Jakon’s to fix on the blonde.
He gave a subconscious nod in agreement. He already knew that about her, but it was nice to have others see it too. Jakon turned to the fae guard. A large part of him wanted to crush his thoughts of doubt toward Caius, but he gave in to the seed of wariness.
“Why are you here?” he said. Not in accusation or resentment, but in genuine curiosity as he wondered what the fae guard could possibly gain from helping them.
The young fae smiled sadly. “I was there when Faythe was summoned to the throne room that day,” he began. He didn’t meet Jakon’s eye as he spoke, frowning intently at the ground instead. “She offered him a mercy, I know that now, but what the king asked of her…to a young boy…” Caius struggled to form sentences as the memories clearly haunted him.
Jakon shuddered to imagine the scene Faythe created for the king. His fists balled with anger, both for what his friend had to endure and the short life that was taken by the ruler of High Farrow.
“I may be a king’s guard, but it doesn’t mean I agree with everything he stands for. There are a lot of us who hope, dream, of a fairer High Farrow.”
Jakon was silent. As he looked to the fae, he knew his words were genuine. He had spent his life believing all fae species were the same: power-hungry and uncaring of human lives. Yet here was Caius, in a position of power and influence, choosing to fight on the side that defended the weaker race.
“Do you think that day will come?”
The fae guard met his eye, determined as he said, “I do. And I’ve always believed Prince Nikalias will be the one to bring it about. I know he will restore the values of High Farrow. But the world calls for a different kind of savior. Someone with resilience and a strong mind. Someone with enough power to challenge, yet with a heart true enough not to be consumed by its darkness.”
“You sound as if you know of such a person.”
Caius’s smile widened as he said, “I think we both do.”
Jakon wasn’t sure if he was trembling from the cold or the realization of who Caius was referring to. He wanted to laugh at the idea that someone like Caius—or any of the fae for that matter—would place their faith in a human. Yet even Faythe’s name stood for exactly what the people needed.
“You can’t expect the fate the of the world to depend on one girl alone,” he said quickly, almost defensively. Though she was now a woman and no longer lived by his side, he would always feel an overwhelming need to protect his dearest friend.
“She’s not alone.”
Jakon was about to respond when the fae guard snapped his head to the side, tuning in to something his human ears couldn’t hear. Jakon’s hand went for his sword, but Caius raised a hand for him to be still. He obeyed though his heart thundered as he waited for the guard’s next signal. It bothered him to depend on another for guidance, but considering Caius might save their lives with the early warning of any impending threat, he tried to be grateful.
“Fae patrol,” he whispered. Caius’s eyes shifted to the pile of soundly sleeping humans, and Jakon saw the panic in them. Though he still couldn’t hear a sound, the fae’s reaction made his blood turn cold. He had no idea how close they were or if they would be able to get everyone into hiding before the patrol sensed them.
His voice dropped low as he turned to Jakon. “You need to get everyone off the main route. You’ll have to head north. It will add a day or two onto the journey, but they won’t bother checking the long way through Springhill. Wake them. Make sure everyone is silent. If I can hear them, they may very well hear us too.”
“What about you?”
“I’m going to try to divert them.”
“And if they suspect you?”
Caius shrugged casually, but his grin was confident. “Make sure my heroism is remembered, will you?”
Jakon didn’t have time to protest before the guard darted into the forest with feline precision. Though Caius said it in humor, Jakon muttered a silent prayer to the Spirits to keep him safe. Then, not wasting a second, he stealthily went to wake Marlowe first.
Chapter 23
Faythe
Everything was still. Everyone was quiet. All Faythe could hear was the hard beat of her heart and the faint array of woodland murmurs.
The fae picked up on something she didn’t, and the general beside her knocked an arrow into place with expert stealth and laser focus. She held her breath, watching intently and following his fixed line of sight. Nothing revealed itself to her human senses. Instead, she admired Reylan’s powerful, unwavering hold. His calculated breaths frosted clouds along the length of the arrow in perfect intervals. His eyes were wide and still, tracking without a single blink.
Then he let his arrow fly.
It soared impossibly fast, and Faythe lost track of it in an instant. He relaxed then, lowering his longbow, and Faythe released her tense poise, letting out a long exhale.
His gaze slid to her. “Did you only come here to sit pretty, or are you going to contribute at some point?”
She scowled at him. He knew exactly why she had yet to attempt her shot. It would be to her eternal embarrassment if she couldn’t match her words to her skill. She wanted to try, but fear got the better of her every time she thought to shoot down the occasional bird or rabbit. She was unfairly disadvantaged against the rest of the hunting party who had naturally heightened senses.
“Did you even hit anything?
” she shot back. She knew he did, and the weak retort was merely to divert the attention from herself.
His grin creased his eyes. “Let’s go see.”
With a kick of his feet, Kali jerked forward. Faythe mimicked him to follow. She found herself implicitly, and perhaps foolishly, following the general’s lead when it came to anything related to the hunt and horseback riding, and she hated herself for being glad of his presence.
They kept walking forward, and Faythe glanced back the way they came in disbelief that he’d sent his arrow so far. After another short minute, she finally spied the white fletching protruding from its mark: perfectly through the eye of a black sparrow. It was pinned to a tree trunk almost as dark as the bird itself.
It should have been an impossible shot, especially from such a distance, even for a fae. Faythe brought her horse to a stop and gaped at it. Reylan chuckled lightly at her reaction.
She snapped her mouth shut. “Show-off,” she muttered.
Branches cracked behind them, and Faythe flinched in fright, which only added to the general’s amusement. The rest of the hunting party crept up to them.
Varlas whistled low. “Impressive,” he remarked.
Reylan only nodded in appreciation at the comment.
The King of Olmstone straightened. “We should go by foot from here to have a chance of hunting larger game.”
Everyone seemed to agree with his plan and didn’t waste any time before starting to dismount. Tarly helped Tauria down from her brown mare. Faythe was glad for the ward’s decision to join them that morning, thinking she would at least have some female company in the sport that was predominantly for male enjoyment, but she hadn’t had the chance to converse with her friend once in the hour since they’d left as the Olmstone prince eagerly stole all her attention.
Faythe didn’t mind as Reylan had remained by her side for most of the hunt, at least while Nik was engaged with Varlas. The general was becoming masterful at rousing her irritation with little effort, but she was begrudgingly grateful for his company as he was the only one who knew of her complete lack of experience. Even Nik and Tauria believed she was at least competent from hunting in the outer town.
Reylan had tried his best to teach her the basics, such as how to properly hold a bow and nock an arrow, but she’d yet to put any of those teachings into practice. Mercifully, he didn’t taunt or judge her for it, and she was surprised by his patience. He didn’t owe her anything, and it worried her that after it was all said and done…she would owe him.
Faythe was the last one still atop her brown-and-white stallion. Getting down unnerved her more than mounting. She inhaled a shaky breath and willed her trembling hands to release the reins. When she glanced to the side to gauge the distance to the ground, Reylan was already there, positioned to help. There was nothing teasing on his face as he waited patiently. She smiled a little, immensely grateful for his offer to save her the humiliation of an ungraceful dismount.
With new confidence that he was there to catch her, she slung her leg over to one side. His hands went to her waist then, and she braced against his firm shoulders. She couldn’t be sure if her thundering heart and the flush of her body were from her nerves or Reylan’s touch. Heat rose up her spine to color her cheeks. She used little effort as he took most of her weight to guide her down. His hands didn’t linger when her feet met the ground, but he took a moment longer than she expected to step back.
Sapphire blazed with gold for long enough the two colors were at risk of fusing to forge something…
“Perhaps in pairs, we will have better luck scouting something…larger.”
Varlas’s loud voice stole their attention, and Faythe felt Reylan’s stare break like something physical. He moved to put a few feet of distance between them as the Olmstone king’s eyes flicked up to the speared bird. Then they fell to pin Faythe directly, and her heart skipped a beat.
“Faythe, care to join me?”
She didn’t know why he’d singled her out of the group of highly skilled hunters. It rattled her awfully, but declining his offer would be a grave insult.
Reluctant, she smiled sweetly. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”
A slow grin curled on his face. Instead of encouraging her with warmth, it inspired a sense of trepidation. Her eyes flashed to Reylan, then Nik, then Tauria, none of whom expressed the alarm she felt. She followed after the King of Olmstone who was already making haste away from the group and didn’t glance back at her friends or the general.
Chapter 24
Nikalias
Nik all but stormed through the forest, uncaring of the branches that cracked beneath his feet or the foliage he rustled in his wake. His mind was reeling, a loop of tormenting thoughts infusing with his anger from no justified cause.
“If you’re attempting to scare off the wildlife instead, I’d say you’re doing a fantastic job,” Reylan remarked.
Nik paused in his tracks, in no mood for humor. They’d walked in silence for so long that he’d almost forgotten he wasn’t alone while he battled with the chaos in his head.
After Varlas paired off with Faythe for the rest of the hunt, Tarly was swift to attach himself to Tauria’s side and eagerly steal her away. The unease Nik felt at seeing the king disappear with Faythe was completely overshadowed by—
Gods. He didn’t even want to acknowledge the dark feeling that coiled in his gut and flared his ire when he saw the beaming smile on the princess’s face at the chance of some alone time with Tarly.
Jealousy.
He was jealous. Of seeing the flicker of excitement dance across her eyes, the warm rose color of her tan cheeks from the attention, and the adorable shyness that slightly weakened her stiff posture. Spirits be damned. It was an ugly, long-dormant feeling he wasn’t accustomed to.
Nik tried to convince himself his sour mood and anxious edge were simply in consideration of her well-being. They didn’t know Tarly well or what his intentions were in pining irritatingly after Tauria’s every move. He should never have let him lead her away.
His gloved hands tightened into fists, and the thought of taking a swing at the delicate prince was a darkly pleasing desire.
“Something on your mind?” Reylan went on, stopping beside him. A longbow dangled in his grasp. “A certain Fenstead princess, perhaps?”
Nik whipped his head toward the general, quick to rally a defense.
“You’ve always had a keen intuition, but your observations are wholly off the mark this time.”
It came out with an edge of bitterness, but even if he’d managed to maintain a cool composure, Nik knew Reylan would not be so easily swayed.
The general’s curved brow called out the lie. He said nothing, but a hint of amusement twitched on his straight mouth.
“Are you even going to attempt to shoot anything with that?” Nik all but snapped in his frustration, casting a hand out to the weapon Reylan held loosely.
He had no right to any thought or feeling on what Tauria explored with Tarly. It wasn’t his business. Yet it was. As her friend, he would always care and look out for her. But even as he thought of the word—friend—it didn’t seem appropriate for what they shared. What they had was so much more. It was everything but what he could surrender to.
It had to be this way.
It was entirely selfish of him to interfere with something that could make her happy and someone who could offer her everything he couldn’t.
Reylan’s voice once again snapped him from his torturous, miserable thoughts. “I would try, but I think you’ve alerted every creature within a mile radius of our presence with your angry footing.”
“My footing isn’t angry.”
“You’re right—more like furious.”
Nik ground his teeth, failing to bite out a retort because the general was right.
Diverting, he said, “Should I be concerned the king chose Faythe’s company just now?”
He watched something flex over the still impassiven
ess of Reylan’s face. If Nik didn’t know him any better—know of his lack of feeling toward anyone and anything but duty—he might have interpreted the look as shared worry. The general’s eyes flashed, just for a second, as though he could see the pair they spoke of.
“It is odd,” he muttered carefully. The glaze in his eyes made it look as if he was mulling over various conclusions about Varlas’s intentions. “Perhaps we should have broken off in groups of three instead.”
They exchanged a look, and the lingering offer was as much a subtle hint for Nik to curb his desire to intrude on Tarly and Tauria’s alone time as it was for Reylan to check up on Faythe.
Nik shifted, eying the general and contemplating. Agreeing would all but seal Reylan’s observation that he itched to go after Tauria. But he rationalized the itch with the thought that should anything threatening appear, he doubted the pompous prince would be capable of protecting her.
It was a grasp in the dark over the real reason he wanted to impose on them. The coils of his jealousy laughed and taunted his attempt to justify his need.
Nik nodded, adding, “If someone gets injured, one should be able to stay while the other gets help.”
Reylan smirked, quirking an amused brow. “That would be smart,” he humored him. “So, shall I go to Faythe, or Tauria and the prince?”
Nik cast him a flat look.
The general chuckled. “Just making sure.”
Reylan fit the bow over his back, and they retraced their steps to where they had parted with the others. When Nik picked up on Tauria’s scent, he bid the general a quick farewell before taking off in their direction while Reylan went after Faythe and the king.
Conscious of Reylan’s comment, Nik put effort into being mindful of his footsteps. He knew how to maneuver through woodland with the stealth and silence of any predator, but his teetering temper and irrational frustration made it difficult to focus on the task. As Tauria’s scent got stronger, so did Tarly’s. Expecting it didn’t soothe the dark beast inside him.
A Queen Comes to Power: An Heir Comes to Rise Book 2 Page 20
