Page 118 of The Night Prince
“Perhaps it would not be so bad, if he found you.”
Hurt surges through me. “Why do you say that?”
He shrugs. “He won’t harm you. Of that, I’m certain. There must be a reason for all of this. I had thought, at first, thatGhealachhad created the bond because she wished him to be king, and wanted you both to bring the kingdoms together. ButI cannot make peace with the idea that my goddess would want a southlander on the throne. There must be another reason.” He shakes his head. “I despise the male, but I believe there is goodness in him, buried deep.”
I believed that once. Now, I see shreds of it at times. But I had told Callum once that Blake may not be as bad as we thought and he had told me I was wrong. “What changed your mind?”
“The wee lad at Lowfell. Alfie. I realized why I recognized him.”
I realize I never told him Alfie is Magnus’s son.
“It’s how we knew where James had taken you,” says Callum. “Blake got a message to Madadh-allaidh, and Magnus replied. I’m sure Blake would have us believe he took the lad, and his mother, as hostages to control Magnus. But the wee lad was a menace—free to roam the castle, happy, healthy, undisciplined.” He shakes his head. “No. I think he gave them refuge in his castle because he knows Magnus is an abusive piece of shit. I think Blake knows, as I do, that not all men are fit to be fathers.”
“That doesn’t make him a good man.”
“No. But it gives me hope that he could be, under the right circumstance.”
He sighs and his breath plumes in front of his face. The mist is clearing from the loch to expose the silver water beneath. I pick at a loose stone in the wall as I shake my head. “Things don’t have to change.”
“Things have changed, whether we wish it or not.” His voice is rough. Quiet. The backs of my eyes burn because I know he’s right. “I’ll never forget the first time I set eyes on you at thedog fight. The way you held my gaze. Stubborn. Filled with fire. Beautiful.”
I turn my gaze to the sky. “I will come back to you, Callum. This is not goodbye.”
“And I will wait for you. Always.” His voice is strained. He straightens and steps back, and I know everything is about to end. I’m not ready. How can I be ready?
“Will you hold me?” My voice is quiet. Unsure.
He takes a deep breath. There is an endless chasm between us, and I think he will walk away. His heat surrounds me as he steps behind me. He wraps his arms around me, pulling my back to his chest, and placing his chin on my head. “Aye.”
I cocoon myself in his solidity, his safety. I try to suppress it, but a hot tear slips down my cheek. He sniffs behind me, his heartbeat thudding against my back.
Together, wrapped in each other’s arms, we watch the sky over the mountains.
Chapter Fifty-Four
My heart is heavy as Philip and I ride away from Madadh-allaidh.
We must go west, to the small seaport at Glas-Cladach. First—on Callum’s orders—we take a route through a valley to the north to avoid Alexander’s army, who have been spotted riding in our direction.
I ride a small chestnut horse named Heather, prepared for me by Fiona, who hugged me tightly before I left and told me she hoped our paths would cross once more. Mrs. McDonald packed me a bag of bread, dried meats, and nuts—as well as another of her love stories, which she tucked within the other items with a wink. Callum brushed his lips against my forehead, eyes shining in the cold sun, and gave me the small silver letter opener I took from the Borderlands that I once tried to stab him with.
“Go for the throat,” he reminded me, his voice strained.
“I’ll find the Heart of the Moon, and I’ll come back to you,” I told him in response.
And then Philip and I were on our way.
I didn’t say goodbye to Blake, though the bond tugs as the mountains rise up on either side of us. Darkness grows in my chest, and I’m not sure if it’s linked to the sadness I feel, or whether I’m feeling his emotion. I think he knows I’m gone.
Philip rides ahead, his gait casual, only one gloved hand on the reins of his horse. He’s dressed in his long blue coat with a high collar, and the sword Callum gave him is strapped to his back. I know he has daggers attached to his belt, too. Other than grumbling about his slumber being interrupted, and his despair that we left before he could have breakfast, he has had the good sense not to speak.
I’m not sure if it’s compassion for my situation, or whether—like me—he feels awkward. We are both siblings and strangers. Back home, we played the parts of a prince and a princess who didn’t much like each other. So much has happened to both of us since then, it’s hard to know what roles we now fit into.
When clouds gather in the afternoon and the sky opens up, it does little to heighten my mood. I bring my horse beside Philip, irritated. “Are you sure you’re going the right way?”
“Yes.”
“How can you bear north when we cannot even see the sun? Callum said we should have reached a forest by now, at which point, we are to turn west.” I taste the rain, and my cloak is starting to stick to my body.
