Page 24 of The Rebel's Prize

"Not just any daughter but the queen's sister," Silya pointed out. "I am sure her father was hoping to make an advantageous marriage for her."

"Well, Lord Arbronet is quite the advantage," Chloe said. "The man is richer than just about anyone bar the emperor." Which might not be enough to redeem him in the eyes of the Andalyssians, depending on how much they knew about him. Though even if they disapproved, there was little they could do. Thanks to his title, Valentin was one of the most powerful men in the empire. And that was without considering the fact that his talent for healing meant he also had the firm support of the temple. Mikvel would be a fool to protest the marriage, even if Irina's family were less than thrilled. His queen, Katiya, would most likely only be happy that her sister had found a way to be happy. Another reason for Mikvel not to complain. He adored his wife.

"The man is also a scandal and a rogue," Silya said bluntly. "Or so I have been told."

"Well, Irina already knew that when she agreed to wed him," Chloe said. "And how things work between them is a matter for them both to decide. Hopefully her family will warm to him over time. After all, it cannot hurt King Mikvel to have closer ties to the Illvyan court if he wishes to deal with those back in your country who are minded to cause trouble." She stared at the seer for a moment. "Unless, my lady,youthink such trouble is justified. I hope the fact that you are here means perhaps you do not."

"I do not support chaos and mayhem. Such things are not in accordance with balance."

Not exactly a resounding declaration of her support for the emperor or the empire. Or Irina's marriage, for that matter.

"Sejerin Silya has agreed to help us," Lucien interjected gently. "I have no cause to doubt her sincerity."

It would be rude to ask him exactly what he meant by that. Had he used his power on the seer? Confirmed whatever she had agreed to do as truth before they left for Lumia?

It wasn't outside the realm of possibility. This was, no matter what personal stakes Lucien had in the matter, an investigation of a crime committed against the emperor. Even with the uncertainty surrounding whether there were ways to circumvent a Truth Seeker's magic, it was difficult to imagine Aristides hadn't wanted some sort of surety.

Once she wouldn't have had to ask, of course. When they'd shared a bond, she'd been able to use a little of Lucien's power herself. She might have been able to see for herself that Silya was being truthful. But she had destroyed the bond and forfeited any ability to share magic with Lucien. Whether or not she'd forfeited everything else they had once shared...or had been beginning to share, perhaps, remained to be seen.

CHAPTER6

By the time the caravan got underway, rolling away from the kharaevenia at a speed scarcely above walking pace, Chloe was thankful for the cooling charm inside the wagon.

The canvas flap between the front of the wagon and the driver's seat was closed, but it was hardly impregnable. Wafts of warm air and dust found their way through the fabric as the wagon rumbled along. The charm mitigated the impact, keeping the interior comfortable if slightly dusty. Without it, they would have been sweaty and coated in road dirt before they had gone two miles.

The charm, however, couldn't soften the ride. The driver—Corporal Chartres, to her surprise—seemed to know what he was doing, but no amount of skill could turn an uneven road to a smooth one. She would have to ask Imogene why no mage ingenier had yet managed to invent a charm for that. Generations of them must have contemplated the problem. Which must mean there was some reason it couldn't be done.

In the meantime, she tried to find a comfortable position, telling herself that it would be like riding a horse once she found a rhythm to it. Until then, she could distract herself from the discomfort by tackling another uncomfortable task and making small talk to fill the time.

"How many wagons are there in the caravan?" she asked Lucien.

"Around twenty," he said. "Mali was negotiating for some goods this morning, so that may have added to the final tally."

Twenty. Enough to mean they wouldn't travel fast. But for the moment, their aim was to move undetected toward their quarry, not to rush and scare them away.

"If you have any real interest in the details, Mali will be happy to talk to you," Lucien continued. He tipped his head toward the front of the wagon. "Her wagon is the one in front of ours."

"She doesn't take the lead?"

"No, that's Guat, her husband. He has the lead oxen team, so he sets the pace. The outriders go ahead of him, and his wagon carries some of the caravan guards. Mali likes to be farther back, as I understand it. Every caravan leader has their own style."

He sounded as though he knew what he was talking about.

"And how far will we travel each day?"

"That varies with the terrain and the distance between camps and towns. The oxen are slower than horses, but they have their advantages. Today is a shorter leg. The camp we're aiming for isn't as far as some of the others. We'll be there a few hours before sunset."

Sunset felt a long way away.

She settled back against the leather, searching for some semblance of patience. Until there was any definite news about either Deandra or the theater troupe, this was the pace they had decided upon, and chafing against it would just drive her mad. Though sitting across from Lucien and finding his steady green gaze waiting for her every time she looked up might do a better job of driving her crazy than the speed of their journey.

The first few hours travel, before they halted for lunch, seemed to last three times longer than that. They'd pulled off the road into a cleared area at the edge of a patch of scrubby woods. It was obviously intended for caravans and other travelers. There were a few trees left standing for shade around the edges of the flattened earth and a well to draw water, as well as several small firepits and a row of wooden huts she assumed were some sort of basic toilet. Necessities only. She hoped the camp they were headed for wouldn't be quite so spartan.

She walked around the wagon a few times, stopping to pat the horses when Corporal Chartres invited her to. He was checking their feet and fastening feedbags. She made him show her how to attach the bags, insisting she intended to be useful when he tried to wave her off.

The wind was warm and dusty outside the wagon, but it was still nice to be in fresh air for a time. She was scratching one of the lead pair's ears and laughing as they munched placidly when Lucien came to escort her over to the trees to eat bread, cheese, cold roast meat, and vegetables, washed down with water, then cold tea. She ate fast and then circled the clearing a few more times to stretch her legs while trying to stay out of the way.

It didn't take long under the heat of the midday sun to realize that even her light woolen dress was too warm for this journey. She had planned to buy a few cooler dresses for her wardrobe in Jinkara once she'd found passage north, but Lucien hadn't given her any time this morning. The weather would cool again as they moved north, Miseneian spring being warmer than even summer in that part of the empire. But she needed something that would be comfortable to move around in until they got that far or she would be forced to spend most of her time in the wagon.

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