by Gwynn White
Any other time, Axel would have objected to the eviction—but not today. A hunt had been planned to celebrate Lynx and Lukan’s betrothal.
If Axel raced, he could probably catch her at the stables.
Chapter Twenty-One
The mild autumn sun was high in the sky when Lynx and Kestrel were escorted to the stables. Compared to the thorn-ringed corral where the Norin safeguarded their horses, the home of the Chenayan mounts was positively palatial. Built from hewn stone, each stable was bigger than a Norin family tent. Seeing the magnificent horses, nothing like the hardy nags she rode, Lynx guessed the spoiled steeds thrived on the care. At least it was a sign that the Chenayans valued something.
Then a thought struck.
How was she supposed to ride in a dress? Especially a bright red silk one? Lynx shook her head in wonder. If she’d been wearing her leathers . . . She sighed. Those belonged to another time, another world.
Her escort led her and Kestrel to a crowd of high-born gathered in a central courtyard in the middle of the stable precinct. The men were armed with crossbows, but the women were weaponless. It seemed hunting was a male pursuit in Chenaya, with women mere spectators. Yet another profound difference between their two cultures.
Lynx quickly scanned the crowd, and her heart sank.
Lukan wasn’t amongst them. Neither was Axel.
Tao broke away from the group to meet her and Kestrel. On his gauntleted wrist, he carried a falcon. He pulled the leather hood off its head. “Kestrel and Lynx, meet Bird.”
The falcon turned cruel black eyes, rimmed with yellow, on Lynx.
She smiled to cover her worry and disappointment at Lukan—and Axel’s—absence. “‘Bird’? That’s its name?”
Hunting with birds was not common in Norin, so Lynx knew little about the sport.
“Not exactly original,” Kestrel added, standing well back from Bird’s sharp beak. “I don’t like my name much, but least I was named after a specific species of falcon.”
“I like your name.” Tao smiled at Kestrel. When she didn’t react to his compliment, he added, “And as for Bird, only pets have names.” Bird lifted her tail, leaning into his hand as he caressed her creamy throat. “She hunts with me, but I don’t own her. And that’s the way I like it.” He looked at Kestrel, still smiling.
Lynx nodded her approval that Tao hadn’t given up trying to woo her sister, even if his mild flirting last evening—which she was convinced had been designed to make Kestrel jealous—had caused trouble between her and Kestrel.
A perplexed frown settled on her sister’s face. “If you don’t own her, what’s she doing on your wrist?”
“I found her orphaned in the forest.” Tao lifted his arm, bringing Bird to his mouth so he could brush his lips across the slate-gray feathers on her back. “I hand-reared her and spent months training her to hunt with me. We’ve been together ever since, but she stays with me because she chooses to, not because I demand it.” Tao fixed Kestrel with a beseeching look. “We find the relationship mutually beneficial.”
Guessing at the importance of this discussion to Tao, Lynx looked away, giving him some privacy, but she couldn’t help overhearing Kestrel.
“Huh. If I had put that much effort into something, I wouldn’t trust it enough to let it fly.”
“Wouldn’t you?” Tao asked.
“Of course not,” Kestrel said, as if that was obvious. “What if she never comes back?”
“I guess that’s better than trapping someone in a relationship they don’t want to be in.” Without waiting for Kestrel to answer, Tao walked over to the waiting high-born. “If your horses are ready, let’s get going.”
Lynx saw her sister frown at Tao’s back. With troubles of her own, she couldn’t stop to address it. She needed Tao’s help, so she trotted over and grabbed his arm. “What about Lukan? Should I be going on this hunt without him?”
Tao’s forehead creased in thought, and he shrugged. “I don’t know. It seems all you’ve done today is ask about my brother.”
“I know. And I can’t say I’m ecstatic about it. It’s not like I was lining up to marry him.”
Tao grinned at her. “I think the line for arranged marriages was very short, actually.” He looked over at Kestrel with longing. “Let me get her onto her horse, and then I’ll give you a hand.”
Lynx suppressed a laugh. “Thanks, but I can manage on my own.” She took the reins of a bay mare a groom held out to her—and clicked her tongue in dismay.
A sidesaddle.
How the heck do these work? Not bothering to find out, she swung a leg over the horse’s back and climbed up. The fact that only one foot was supported didn’t matter; she was used to riding bare-backed.
A few of the high-born twittered. She noticed Kestrel rolling her eyes and was reminded of her sister saying everyone would think them low-born savages because she didn’t know how to use the bath oils. Had she done that again? Lynx closed her eyes, wishing life here wasn’t so complicated. What had Mad Mott been thinking when he chose her to be an empress?
Still, it was too late to do anything about it.
Pretending she wasn’t blushing scarlet, Lynx explained, “I’ve never ridden with one of these saddles. I don’t even know how. All I need is to fall flat on my face.” She smiled disparagingly. “Winds know, this magical moment is bad enough. I definitely couldn’t cope with that humiliation.”
A few of the women smiled, all sympathy, while a couple of the men grinned.
“I’ll be happy to catch you, Your Highness,” a man with a goatee beard and a sparkling emerald said. He bowed. “My name is Lev.” He gestured to his companions and rattled off a number of names.
Lynx studied each face, determined to commit them and their names to memory. To cover herself, she added, “If I get your names all mixed up, please don’t curse me.”
“Curse someone with your unusual dress sense? Unlikely,” one of the women—Katcha—said.
“Thank you.” Lynx smiled again, surprised by the warmth and admiration in Katcha’s voice. Didn’t they hate her the way she hated them? “Even though Norin are known for our individuality, I just happen to be even more individual than most.”
Tao’s voice rang out. “If everyone is ready, let’s go.”
He led Lynx and the rest of the party out onto a path next to an ornamental lake. It was surrounded by tended formal gardens filled with roses and a mass of other plants Lynx had never seen before. From the way Kestrel swooned, her sister knew all the names.
A team of gardeners trimmed topiaries of fantastical creatures she had only heard about in legends. They stopped what they were doing to bow as she and the riders went past.
Lynx frowned. It didn’t matter how deceptively pretty the gardens, at the end of the expansive lawn, she saw treetops poking just above ground level. They had reached the wolves.
“How does that work?” Kestrel asked, also studying the strange feature.
“The wolves I told you about,” Lynx replied, speaking Norin. “That’s their enclosure. The trees give you an idea of how deep and wide it is.”
Tao must have guessed what they were talking about because he paused. “It used to be the moat, but my grandfather didn’t fancy the smell, so he had it emptied and stocked it with wolves. The trees arrived on their own.” He pointed to a contingent of guardsmen working a large, steam-driven pulley. “You can only reach the palace at appointed drawbridges.”
Or leave it, Lynx thought darkly.
Amid a belch of smoke and steam, the guardsmen lowered a wooden platform across the wide expanse of the enclosure. Lynx looked down at the foliage as her horse clattered over the drawbridge. She didn’t see any wolves, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.
Once clear of the palace grounds, Tao kicked his horse into a canter and then into a gallop, leading them along a tree-lined avenue, curling up the lower slopes of the Serreti Mountains.
Lynx lost herself in the rhythm of the r
ide. It was so enjoyable she barely felt the tug of her dress as it rode up above her thighs.
The cobbled road finally ended at an impenetrable wall of scrub and deciduous trees. Autumn had started to turn some of the leaves, but few had yet vacated the branches. Being a girl from the steppes, the forest looked dark and claustrophobic. She sucked in a panicky breath, looking for a path into the gloom. There was nothing obvious.
Then, she spotted a narrow opening, just wide enough for a horse and rider to pass through single file. If this was the main track Chenayans used for their beloved hunting, then the forest growth was as aggressive as all the hunters combined. It seemed fitting.
Tao passed though the opening first, followed by Kestrel, who seemed unfazed by the oppressive atmosphere.
Payback for the train, Lynx thought. She smiled wryly at the memory of Kestrel throwing up in a sick bag. Maybe she should have been more sympathetic. Too late now. Making a show of adjusting her reins, she lingered at the back of the queue, hoping to delay plunging into the murk as long as possible.
A movement in the trees on the other side of the path caught her attention. Axel, mounted on a blue-gray stallion, broke cover from the deep shade. He pushed his horse through a tangle of creepers, stopping next to her.
“A hard ride brings out the best in you, Lynx. It’s even thawed your eyes. If I really try, I can even fool myself into believing that you don’t despise us all.”
Lynx cursed the pounding of her heart, nothing to do with either exercise or fear of the forest.
An appreciative grin spread across Axel’s face.
She followed his eyes as they swept the length of her leg, exposed by galloping in a silly dress. A quick tug, and she pulled her skirt down her thighs. As to be expected, she blushed. Trust her face to betray her. “You had your chance on the train. Now my legs are off-limits—to you at least.”
“Pity.”
“Speaking of people who are allowed to see my legs . . . do you know where Lukan is?”
“Sorry. He’s proving elusive. Even my father’s lost him, and that’s saying something, given his, shall we say, unique ways of tracking us all.”
That sounded ominous. Axel’s expression made Lynx wonder what he was hiding. Whatever it was, it made the hair on the back of her neck stand.
To cover up her treacherous thoughts, she said, “I didn’t know vanishing into the ether was a trait you Chenayans bred into your crown princes.” She stared pointedly at Axel’s ruby. “But then, who knows what you’re capable of?”
“I’d very much like to demonstrate my capabilities, if you’d let me, Princess.”
“At breakfast, you said I smelled bad,” Lynx said, refusing to engage in sexual innuendos with him. “And how am I supposed to hunt without a weapon?”
“And here I thought you’d stopped scrounging for weapons when you left the train. Silly of me.” He smiled provocatively as his horse pranced in front of her. “And you don’t smell bad, just overpowering. But I’m getting used to that. We’d make a good team, Princess. We both like to own the room.”
The urge to smile back was overwhelming. She suppressed it. Axel had no right flirting with her like this when she was marrying his cousin. Or when he knew the peril her family was in. The memory of Mott’s threat curdled her stomach, making her nauseous.
“We’re the last ones left,” Axel said, waving his whip at the opening. “After you.”
Lynx’s troubled stomach knotted, and her breath caught. But unwilling to show fear in front of Axel, she urged her mount into the forest.
Vine-covered branches clawed at her arms and legs as her horse pushed its way through the undergrowth. She closed her eyes, praying to the Winds to keep her safe in this benighted place.
Finally, she emerged in a small, dark clearing, surrounded by towering trees. Dank air smelling of mold pressed heavily on her chest. Swallowing her panic, she looked for the other riders, but there was no sign of them. They couldn’t have gone far, but the forest was silent. She listened for birds or insects, but—as if knowing the dangers the high-born presented—they gave no hint of their presence, either.
She rubbed her arms for comfort as Axel pulled up next to her. She dropped her hands and said with forced bravado, “Tao and the rest of them . . . which way did they go?”
Axel cast a cursory glance at the leaf litter. “That way.” He kneed his horse into motion.
She followed, cursing under her breath. Axel must consider her a complete idiot. Why hadn’t she thought of looking for spoor? Back home, she could have tracked an ostrich across solid rock. Here, she felt blind, helpless.
Conversation seemed the answer to all her concerns.
“Why do I get the impression you don’t care for my betrothed?” she asked.
Axel grinned at her. “You noticed that, did you? Truly, your powers of deduction are impressive.”
His knee brushed her leg as he sidled up next to her. She knew she should put some space between them, but as her mare seemed content—happy, even—with the proximity of his stallion, Lynx did nothing. Axel grinned victoriously. Heron’s face flashed before her, and she realized with startling clarity that, as much as she had cherished him, her feelings for Axel were deeper, less like a teenage crush.
Shocked at that realization, she shot Axel a glare and edged her mare forward. The horse walked through a spider’s web spun between two trees. Praying the occupant wasn’t home, she brushed the sticky silk off her face and hair. “Why don’t you like Lukan?”
Axel threw his hands up, sighing. “Do you like him?”
“You’re evading my question. Again. And you know I don’t like any Chenayans. You’re all disgusting.”
“Thanks. For nothing.” Axel swept back a curtain of ivy barring Lynx’s way. “After I was so kind to you on the train?”
“My pleasure. And you were a complete toad. An arrogant one, too.”
He grinned at her. “So, if me not knifing you makes me a toad, then what should I call you?”
Lynx couldn’t resist smiling. Sparring with Axel had settled her stomach like nothing else in the world could. “A skilled operator?”
Still, Lynx wasn’t here to marry him. It was time to shift the focus from him back to his cousin. “How am I supposed to know if I like Lukan when he’s never around? I don’t even know him.”
“What’s there to know?” Axel’s voice was surprisingly harsh. “He’s an idiot of the first degree, and you’re utterly wasted on him. You’d be better off with someone like me.”
Lynx’s breath caught, making her splutter. “You? Us? Never!”
Axel’s disparaging laughter suggested her protest hadn’t been successful. Worse, she could feel her reluctant desire for him blazing across her face. There was no chance he would miss that, either. He shifted in his saddle, and she snatched a quick breath. His face was so close to hers; all she had to do was lean in, and they would kiss.
Want, so powerful it almost left her limp, surged through her. Shocked at herself for her loss of control, she was immeasurably grateful when she heard the dull thud of a horse’s hooves on the leaf litter. She pulled back, catching a flash of black and silver through the trees.
Black and silver.
It was rumored the crown prince only ever wore those colors. If he spent more time with her, she might be able to confirm its veracity.
The horse broke through the undergrowth, and dodging low-hanging branches, Lukan pulled up to face her. Despite the sweat trickling down his cheeks from his ride, Lynx was struck again by his beauty. Even Axel’s strong face, handsome enough by most standards, couldn’t compare.
Still, it wasn’t enough to make her want him. She closed her eyes, bitterly angry with herself for being so difficult. With an oath to fulfill, why was she allowing smart-arsed Axel, master of the razor-tongue, to deflect her from that goal?
Usually, she was so firm in her purpose. Black and white, her father called her. Her feelings for Axel Avanov were most c
ertainly neither of those colors. And, worse, her infatuation with him was distracting her from her other task here: to find out about the gemstones. Axel was a distraction she didn’t need. But how was she to get rid of him when he was always around?
When she opened her eyes, Lukan had maneuvered his horse between hers and Axel’s. Lynx’s mare whinnied in protest, and she patted her neck to steady her. The confusion gave Lynx the chance to rustle up a smile for Lukan. He could never know she craved his cousin.
“Oh. It’s you,” Axel said, not bothering to hide his displeasure.
“Anyone else would bow,” Lukan rasped breathlessly, “but I guess that’s too much to expect from the great Axel Avanov.”
“You’ve got that right.”
Lukan shot Lynx a wistful look and then averted his eyes, as if the sight of her disturbed him.
That was troubling.
She had used her most engaging smile on him. Her stomach knotted in response.
“I missed you at breakfast,” she said, desperate to connect with him on some level.
As if staking a claim, Axel moved in closer to her before Lukan could frame a reply. “I’ve been looking after Lynx for you.”
“And you expect my gratitude?” Lukan’s horse stamped, mirroring the impatience in his voice.
“No. Lynx has everything I need.” Axel grinned at her. “And she’s both grateful for, and delighted with, my company.”
Lukan drilled Lynx’s face, his dark eyes demanding answers.
Hiding her irritation at Axel’s comment, she blasted Lukan with another radiant smile. And lied. “Axel and I were saying you and I make a great couple.” Then she added, more truthfully, “We both like going our own way. But I think, perhaps, we should spend more time together. As you said, we are getting married in a couple of days.”
Lukan frowned at her. “Right now, I’m not sure a marriage between us is something to celebrate.”
