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*****
ETAN
There’d been bustle in the camp as they were leaving. It made Etan nervous because it meant his father was calling people in to discuss and strategize. And yet, he hadn’t called Etan—usually Etan was the first to be brought to his side in any kind of emergency. But he knew his mother was right—they were far safer if there was no sign of Ayleth in the camp. Plus, it let him rush to Quwan.
If they hurried, they could be in Summitras in three days, and at the castle two days later. He would find Quwan immediately… assuming the Queen didn’t hurt Ayleth before then. The thought made his stomach open like a pit. He pushed it away. There was nothing he could. Literally no control available able to him. He had to pray that the Queen had been bluffing. But his instincts prickled that there was another reason for her delay.
She’d been far too solid in her threats. Far too confident.
Shaking himself back to the present, Etan scanned the dark night. They’d recently broken out of the trees and out into farmland, the moon glowing overhead so brightly it cast shadows.
Borsche rode ahead, and Falek behind, both of them scanning the darkness for any hint of another person approaching. Etan scanned the trees off to the west, and the hills ahead, but saw nothing. Then he looked at Ayleth, riding astride next to him, her knee brushing his as their horses walked calmly together.
She caught him looking from the corner of her eye and turned. She was keeping the hood up, just in case. But she reached for his hand and he caught her smile, cast in moonlight just below the shadow of it.
The smile he loved. The smile that trembled.
“What is it?” He asked quietly.
She shook her head and looked forward, at the swinging hind end of Borsche’s stallion ahead of them. “I’m just glad to be next to you again,” she said softly.
Etan squeezed her fingers and ached to hold her. But it would be hours until daylight and they planned to put as many miles between them and his parents convoy as they could before the sun crept over the hills ahead.
*****
AYLETH
She was so weary. So weary. Oddly, not in her body, but in her mind.
Her body still crackled with energy, with pent up emotion. It had been such a shock to find him with Sarya when they’d finally caught them up, then to discover that Sarya was the one who betrayed them—and to Ayleth’s own mother. Then to face his parents for the first time…
It wasn’t until they were riding that she’d had a moment to think. And now… now the sky was just beginning to gray. The indigo night just barely seeping into a navy blanket. There was an abandoned barn in the next field that they were urging their horses towards. Soon the Falek and Borsche would search its depths to ensure it was safe, then stable the horses and she and Etan would finally be alone.
Well, as alone as two people could be when they were closely guarded and watched over by men who seemed to scent movement in their sleep.
And what was she going to say? Because she loved him. She’d been desperate without him. And she was so relieved to be back at his side. His speech to his parents, the way he’d stood up to his father—for her… it was everything she’d dreamed and wanted. He loved her. Adored her. She knew it to her bones.
And yet… and yet anger simmered in her belly. She’d told him what she thought of him leaving her without speaking to her. Giving her no chance to inform or help. He’d accepted her admonition. But it felt unfinished.
There was something with her that hesitated. But she wasn’t sure what it was, because she wanted no one else. Had no questions in her mind about her future, and where it lay.
So why did she have to force herself to smile? To reach for him?
She wanted to be close to him.
It was confusing. Ayleth was not accustomed to being confused by her own feelings. Only by the actions of others.
Soon, though she’d come to no clear conclusions, they reached the barn. The hills ahead were just beginning to glow at their edges as the sun began its traverse towards the day. Borsche swung out of his saddle ahead of them, and Falek behind, bringing his mount up to hand the reins to Ayleth and warning her to stay in her saddle until they’d cleared the building.
He glared at Etan over her shoulder before stalking into the shadows behind Borsche and she knew he, too, had words to say to Etan. But he would follow her lead. Mostly.
To give herself something to do, she juggled the reins of both horses as she tugged at the ties at the back of the saddle where her bag had been secured.
She was nervous suddenly, and didn’t understand why. It was making her angry.
“Ayleth?” Etan’s voice was smooth and dark, and her stomach fluttered in a mix of joy and fear.
“Yes?” She didn’t look up from the ties. One of them was knotted.
“I’m sorry.”
Ayleth froze, hear pounding. Then, forgetting the ties, she looked up at him.
Etan sat higher than her—his own height, and that of his horse, conspiring to make her feel small at a time she did not wish to feel small next to him. His eyes were bright pinpricks in the early morning darkness, his hair messy and falling over his forehead, long enough to reach his long lashes, but he didn’t seem to notice.
His jaw was even more shadowed because of the late hour and his lack of shaving.
Most of her wanted to pull him into her arms and kiss him deeply. To stroke his chest and move with. Most of her ached for that.
But the rest…