Page 20 of Winds of Destiny

“No! You steal my heart, you tell me I’m everything to you, and then you give me up without a fight?Fuck you, Turo Detyrr.” I turn and stalk away across the rooftop.

He’s on his feet, too, shadowing me, trying to keep me safe. I don’twantto be safe, not if it means looking in his traitorous face. I’d rather fall to the cobblestones far below us than have to bear his hands pulling me to safety right now.

I get inside without a problem. It’s only once I’m there, safe at last, that my legs collapse and I lean against the wall beneath the open window, sobbing my heart out.

The black pearl resting on my chest seems to throb in time with my misery. These pearls are meant to connect me to my loved ones, to let me sense their hearts and know their minds. If I gave it to Turo, what would I feel right now? Would I still ache? Would I sense his misery? Or would his damnable sense of duty shield me from the worst of it?

I make sure the pearl doesn’t touch my skin. I don’t want to feel anything else right now—not Kai, not Turo, not myself, nothing. I’m already as broken as I can be without withering into a heap on the floor and never rising again.

I hear a shift on the ledge, and I know without looking that Turo is right there, a nearly silent sentinel. Silent andspineless, the bastard. It’s a good thing he’s not trying to come in, or I’d kick him out.

Tomorrow I’ll try to get over it. I’ll harden my heart and ignore Turo to lavish my attention on people who are more deserving, people who are not afraid to fight for me.

Tonight, though, I’ll give into my grief and let it chew me up inside until there’s nothing.

No love.

No hurt.

No Turo.

Chapter Twelve

Kai

We leave Zephyth early the morning after the ceremony. Prince Camrael’s family bids him farewell at the city gate. His sister’s eyes are wet as she embraces him, and her little ones cling to him so hard their father has to pry their arms from their uncle’s neck. His father is less emotional, as befits a king, but gives his son a truly princely parting gift—the brilliant-white jaka bird, with a fine leather saddle and a bridle that seems to make the damn thing almost steerable.

It’s a shame—I was looking forward to having him in the lead wagon beside me, but now he’ll surely want to prance around on that bird with Lord Turo at his back, a single unit of two people that I’m not sure I can penetrate.

Only…

They aren’t looking at each other.

Or rather, Lord Turo is looking at Camrael, but the prince isn’t looking back. Something has happened between the two of them, something to put a rift into what seemed like an unbreakable bond. I’m curious, even a bit concerned, but this is also an opportunity I can’t pass up.

Lord Turo only makes it easier for me. Once we’ve said our farewells and begun our trip north, the spymaster breaks away from our wagons and slinks off over a ridge carved by the everwinds and into the tall grasses not far beyond where we were attacked by those Kamoran bastards. He’s invisible in seconds.

Rusen lifts one arm and inhales dramatically. “Is it the smell?” he jests, and Prince Camrael, who’s finally let himself look toward his bodyguard now that the man is no longer there, sighs heavily.

“He’ll be back. I’m sure he wants to see if he can track where those chariots went.”

That’s a good thought, and one I’d assumed the guards of Zephyth had already acted upon. My impression of the city’s readiness falls even lower. To have a single man capable of gathering intelligence like this out of a city of tens of thousands is risky at best, disastrous at worst. They need to make some serious changes to their training regimen, changes that I intend to suggest when I send back Dellian troops. For now, though, I’ll take advantage of the fact that my husband’s shadow guard is gone to learn more about him. Maybe if he gets a chance to know me and becomes fond of me, he’ll be less furious when he learns that I’ve been hiding my identity all this time.

I don’t regret it—one never knows whose eyes are watching or ears are listening, after all, and it’s better not to make myself a target so that I can focus on protecting Camrael. Still, I don’t look forward to his reaction when he finds out we’re really married, so it’s in my best interests to court him properly.

“How far have you ever gone from Zephyth?” I ask.

Camrael looks over at me like he’s surprised I asked. Nevertheless, he moves his mount closer to our steady-plodding team of rams so we can speak more easily. “On land, nowhere at all,” he says, then smirks. “Unless you count my little escapade with the whelvers. By sea, though?” He shrugs. “I’ve gone to the edge of the bay, but never any farther. Once you get out into the open ocean, the waves pick up, and if you’re not an experienced sailor, you can lose control of a boat quickly.”

“I’ve never been on a boat,” I confess.

“A good thing, too,” Rusen adds from behind me. “Given how sick you got the first time you rode a ram.”

“They’re bouncy fuckers!” I protest. “Everyone gets sick the first time they ride one!”

My faithless soldiers laugh at me, the bastards. “Not everyone throws up hard enough to make everyone in a ten-foot radius wet,” Jeric says. “It’s still the talk of the barracks.”

Camrael, at least, is trying to hide his smile, but I don’t mind him laughing a little at me if it means he’s engaged and entertained. “The first time I got on a jaka, it threw me off into a pile of its own dung,” he says. “The only reason I didn’t cry about it was because it did the exact same thing to my sister when she first tried. The only person I know who’s ever been able to ride one without getting tossed into shit is—” His smile starts to fade as his gaze drifts toward the tall grass again.

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