Page 19 of The Rebel's Prize

Which left them with little progress in the investigation so far. Imogene had conveyed Chloe's message, and they'd found the dead bodies in the garden, but to him, that night was mostly a blur, first of anticipation, dancing with Chloe, and then of fear and grief after the heart-stopping snap of their bond dissolving.

A sensation so fierce and clear that it stopped him amidst the chaos of evacuating the palace. And it somehow carried him through the aftermath of the explosion that had followed. He knew he had continued to function that night, had made sure the emperor was safe with Imogene, had worked with the others to search for any injured people once the fire had been taken care of by the water mages, had sat through a briefing with Aristides, who'd gotten out with only a grazed arm but whose rage had been palpable.

And then felt a degree of something when Imogene repeated what Chloe had told her, that the prince had been involved. Even through his own storm of emotions, Lucien had been able to see the blow hit Aristides when he heard that his own son might have plotted against him, followed by the realization that he had no way of knowing truly. Not when Alain was in the temple, conveniently afflicted with the loss of memory about anything that had happened at the parliament.

But Aristides had snapped into action like the emperor he was, pushing aside his personal feelings to safeguard his empire. He'd summoned the parliament's ministers, his generals, and his chief advisers among the court to work out how they were going to handle the chaos that might result in the city from an attack on both the palace and the parliament in such a short span of time.

Lucien had stayed, ready to help, but then at some point, Aristides had looked at him and said, "I will speak to you in the morning, Lord Castaigne. I suggest you go to bed."

After that, Imogene had bundled him off to his townhouse and handed him over to the care of his staff after a brief explanation of what had happened. He'd shaken off their concern, insisting he was unhurt. It didn't take long to check the wards and learn Chloe had been there, and even less time to think to check the portal and discover the thorough job she'd done of breaking it. The rage had swept up over him to join the grief.

Just as well he had no talent for blood magic and couldn't pull the whole thing down around his ears. Instead, he'd spent what was left of the night lying sleepless in the bed that was decidedly empty without Chloe, wondering whether she was still alive. Even if she'd made it through the portal, that didn't mean she was safe. Not with the bond breaking.

But even though he'd wanted to try to follow her, he'd also been hamstrung by his oaths. He was a Truth Seeker, and his emperor needed him. Plus, he realized quickly that Chloe also needed someone to assert her likely innocence to the court.

Therefore, he waited over those first few days of chaos, until the Andalyssians had arrived and Aristides had finally decided to send Lucien and Silya to hunt for Chloe and Deandra. Waited and worried and raged, hating the fact that his magic was useless against the memory charms, that he couldn't fix the situation.

Much like he was waiting now.

The door opened, and Silya slipped out. She stopped after she closed the door and looked him up and down.

"Go to bed, Lord Castaigne," she advised. "There is still a long journey ahead of you."

CHAPTER5

Lucien barely spoke during breakfast the following morning. Chloe ate fast and attempted to maintain a polite conversation with Silya, but she was relieved when the meal was over. Though less so when she walked out of the hotel and saw the covered wagon waiting to take them to the kharaevenia, the trading post on the outskirts of Jinkara where the caravans gathered and conducted business.

The wagon appeared sturdy and serviceable but not necessarily comfortable. The driver perched up front looked up and smiled as the doorman said, "Good morning, Lord Castaigne." He wrapped the reins around a metal hook beside him, clucked his teeth at the four dusty brown horses, and climbed down from his seat, nodding at Lucien. "Good morning, my lord. My ladies," he added as he caught Chloe's eye. He looked young and fit, clearly Illvyan, though he wore a linen tunic in the Kharenian style over his breeches and boots.

"Daviel, this is Lady Castaigne," Lucien said, nodding at her. "And this is Sejerin Silya. You can address her as Sejerin."

The driver nodded. "Yes, my lord." He walked to the side of the wagon, unlatched something, and lowered a set of steps. "If you care to alight, I'll put your bags in the back."

Chloe looked at Lucien curiously. "He's one of yours, I assume?"

"One of ours, to be precise about it," Lucien said, offering his hand.

It took her a moment to lift hers.One of ours?Did that mean he still wanted to remain married? Or had he spoken without thinking?

He frowned slightly as she hesitated, and she hurriedly climbed in, not sure he wouldn't pick her up and just put her inside if he thought she might be having second thoughts.

The interior of the wagon was dim but not as dark as she had expected. Two low-backed benches, padded with leather, though far more utilitarian than any of Lucien's carriages, faced each other in the first third of the space. They looked as though they might seat three people each if no one was overly worried about bumping elbows. Not too crowded, perhaps, with just three of them.

She slid across the bench facing forward, taking the seat at the end. Part of the heavy canvas covering the wagon's frame was rolled up, and instead of watching Silya and Lucien taking their places, she stared out the window, wanting a last glimpse of Jinkara. To her surprise, she saw a familiar face standing across the street under the shelter of an awning of one of the stores not yet open.

Samuel.

Their eyes met and he tipped his head and offered her a quick salute before stepping back into the shadows.

She nodded back, unsure whether he could still see her. Lucien had taken their leave of the Emperor's Pride too fast for her to have a chance to say farewell to Samuel. She wasn't sure she would have kept her temper anyway, given that he had revealed her location to Lucien. It would have to be enough, perhaps, that they both knew that the other was well. Who knew? Their paths might cross again someday. A legitimate trader could have reason to come to Lumia.

The wagon lurched into action, and Chloe gratefully clutched the leather strap attached to the strut that supported the canvas. If this was going to be how the journey went, then she would be able to tell Imogene she'd found a mode of transport as uncomfortable as the charguerres that the army sometimes used. Those were fast but notorious for being hard on the spines and seats of those carried within them.

After they'd gone a hundred feet or so, she realized the wagon was going to be much slower but likely equally uncomfortable. But she found some kind of rhythm to the jolting motion as they navigated their way out of the center of town and toward the northern edge to the kharaevenia. It was easy enough to tell they were getting close when they began to pass large pens of cattle, sheep, and goats that turned the air coming through the canvas to a fug of dust and hay and manure.

The wagon circled the outskirts of the yards and made its way across to where there seemed to be at least fifty or sixty similar vehicles waiting. Beyond them, a forest of tents of various sizes spread out amongst small wooden huts, which were apparently the domains of the caravan masters.

The wagon eventually halted beside one of the others, and Lucien wasted no time, lowering the steps and helping them down from the wagon. "This way," he said and led them through the throng of tents to one of the small wooden buildings.

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