Page 33 of Her Cruel Redemption

Did she fear me? Or did she believe I wouldn’t catch her?

If the early rumours were true, then the princess hoped to find allies in Oceatold. Raise an army. Move against me. This was the part of the news everyone else in this room was fixated on. If Gwinellyn crossed the border and joined those who'd already fled, others would follow, swelling their numbers. Others still would rise within our borders, bolstered by the ray of hope for a return to the old regime and familiar structures of power and order. Would Rhiandra really stoop to allying herself with the vermin who'd made it over the border? With parasitic druthi and petulant lords and the sly King of Oceatold? The thought twisted through me, something dark and jagged. After everything she had done and after everything we had been, did she truly believe she could just slip away?

The heavy iron doors of the keep groaned open. A scout strode in, dripping wet, boots squelching against the stone floor. I lifted my gaze. The room stilled.

The scout bowed his head. 'We have confirmation. They were seen on the road to Oceatold this morning.'

My fingers began to tap out a slow rhythm against the map beneath my hand. 'Have they crossed the River Cro?'

'No, my lord. They were sighted near Amerra.'

I turned my gaze back to the map, tracing it along the thin line of the river. 'Good.'

How would it feel to see her again? I pictured her laughing, her voice rich and full of something almost real. Dropping her head against my shoulder as I poured water through her hair. Whispering in the dark, the warmth of her skin against mine. Standing before me clutching the dagger a moment before she betrayed me.Choosingto betray me.

She had made her choice. And I would make mine.

I inhaled, slow and steady, forcing the storm inside me into something sharp, something that could be wielded. When I spoke, my voice was controlled.

'Then we leave,' I said. 'Now.'

My lieutenants nodded, already moving, but the scout hesitated. 'They're in a group. We don't know who's with them.'

It didn’t matter. Because in the end, no one would save her from me.

This time, she would not escape.

Chapter Fifteen

Iwas riddled with tension, the skin on the back of my neck constantly prickling. We were picking our way across the country through back roads and woodlands, trying to stay out of the way of other travelers, but I knew better than to think that would be enough to keep us from being found. Not when we’d left the man who’d attacked us alive. Trussed up, dosed with something Daethie had concocted and hidden in the trunk of a tree, but alive all the same. Full of information that he could spill as soon as his companions found him. If there had been any doubt about who we had been when they attacked us, there wouldn’t be when they found him.

I should never have let Gwinellyn insist on leaving him alive, but the way she’d looked at me when I’d attacked him had bruised something in me. I didn’t want her to see me as a monster. I didn’t want tobea monster. Iwasn’tone.

Was I?

‘We’re making good time,’ Mae said as she drew up next to me and my horse turned to sniff hers in greeting. ‘We should reach the border tomorrow.’

‘If we can avoid getting caught,’ I muttered, staring at the river before us as dread coiled its way around my throat. ‘We can’t make the border without crossing the Cro.’

The river here was a distant relative of that sluggish, polluted canal that crawled past the Winking Nymph back in Lee Helse. Here, the Cro was rigorous, the water frothing where it met jagged rocks, forming white-peaked rapids as it plunged towards a drop.

‘Do we try to swim across?’ I suggested, though it looked too wild and wide. If it got ahold of us, we would be at its mercy.

‘There’s a bridge not too far from here,’ Mae said as the others pulled up behind us, accompanied by the sound of Tanathil’s fast-paced chatter. ‘The river looks deep. We’ll wind up with all our supplies soaked through if we try to swim. All our clothes and sleeping gear will be saturated. The nights have been too cold for that.’

I didn’t reply. She was right. But I didn’t like the idea of using a bridge, not when there were people looking for us. Not whenhewas looking for us. If the rumours had reached him and he knew we’d come out of hiding, he’d figure out our next stop was Oceatold. I had to assume the few places we could cross the river were being watched. Draven’s flaws were numerous—and depraved—but stupidity couldn’t be counted among them. If he knew we were travelling, he would surely be watching the bridges. Our only hope was that the rumours hadn’t reached him yet, or at least that they hadn’t been confirmed by the men who’d come across us in Garlein. It was a risk we were going to have to take if we ever wanted to reach our destination.

‘Then let’s be quick about it,’ I said, turning my horse south.

We followed the crooked path of the river, our pace quick. My horse frequently pranced about and shook his head, eyes flickering, and I didn’t know if it was because he could pick up on my nerves or if there was something he could sense in our surroundings that I couldn’t. Either way, I held the reins in a white-knuckled grip. The sight of the bridge we were headed for only enhanced my tension. It was a covered bridge, narrow and constructed of wood, which I didn’t like. Felt like a good place to wind up trapped. Tentatively, I felt for the prickle of my magic, quickly shying away from it before it could stir too vigorously. The loss of consciousness after I’d used it in Garlein had unnerved me. I’d felt shivery and light-headed for hours after, my vision shifting strangely as we rode. And for what? I hadn’t been able to strike a single one of the men who’d attacked us. If my aim was so shonky and it wound up knocking me out, it was more of a danger to me in a fight than it was to an opponent.

We didn’t approach the bridge straight away, instead retreating to a nearby crop of trees while Goras went on ahead. It was a concession to my paranoia, and one that didn’t really mollify me when he eventually returned and declared it safe to continue. He’d watched the bridge for longer than necessary, he’d said. He’d used magic to feel out the area, seeking hidden soldiers, and found nothing. The surrounding area was mostly open fields, and the town across the river seemed deserted, emptied as residents fled the fighting zone. We would cross the bridge and then we’d be only a day’s journey from the border. There was no reason to try another way when we were so close.

But those reassurances did nothing to unravel the knot of dread I carried in my stomach.

‘No stopping. Let’s keep our pace quick and stay in the group,’ I said as we approached the bridge. A restless wind pushed us from behind, as though eager for us to be gone. When Goras nudged his horse onwards, I followed suit. I craned my neck around, looking for last minute warning signs as the mouth of the bridge swallowed up first Goras, then Tanathil, then Gwinellyn. But there was nothing. My horse’s hooves sounded hollow against the wood, and the shadow of the bridge's roof was cold as soon as it covered me. It smelled like horseshit inside. The wind didn't quite shift the musty smell of the air.

We didn't speak as we moved forwards, holding the strained silence, infused with the sound of rushing water and horse hooves, and that knot in my stomach only seemed to wind tighter. Something wasn't right. I didn't know what, but something was very wrong. Something about the way the world beyond the other end of the bridge looked as Goras reached it.

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