“It was only natural for the Torrenese crown to send representatives to accompany us across their land,” Cassius told the other man, impatient of his wary mutterings. They’d encountered no reason for suspicion in Torrens, in spite of rumors. “I would do the same were a royal delegation passing through my own kingdom.”
Lord Armand didn’t look convinced. “Be that as it may, I’m glad to be out of Torrens, Your Highness.” He glanced up at the darkening storm clouds above them. “I’m ready to reach our destination.”
“As am I,” Cassius agreed.
Well, ready might be a stretch. But how did a man prepare to greet a stranger to whom he was about to become betrothed?
“You must be eager to meet the princess,” Lord Armandadded. He smiled at the prince in an indulgent way that Cassius found irritating. “I have heard she is very beautiful.”
Cassius just grunted. He didn’t object to his bride being beautiful, of course. He just hoped that Princess Miriam tended toward kindness as well. The alliance would be a bad bargain for him if he ended up with a shrewish wife. But it couldn’t be helped. The whole marriage alliance had been his idea, and he wasn’t going to back out of it based on the princess’s personality. Not with so much at stake.
Worry once again tugged at Cassius’s mind, adding urgency to the task ahead. It was imperative that they seal the agreement with the Siqualian delegation quickly, and get back to Carrack. He was uneasy about being away given his father’s current frame of mind.
As expected, they were greeted by guards on the Siqualian side of the border. The meeting point was a further half hour ride away, but the delay at the border crossing meant they wouldn’t make it before the storm broke. Rain was already pattering onto Cassius’s shoulders.
“Is extra protection necessary?” Lord Armand protested, as a small group of guards from the border mounted up to accompany them the rest of the way. “I understood that Their Majesties assured us of order on their roads.”
“Peace, Lord Armand,” Cassius said, weary of the nobleman’s argumentative presence. “We are all aware that Siqual has suffered the same increase in unrest as other kingdoms. It doesn’t hurt to take precautions.”
Lord Armand didn’t take the rebuke silently, but Cassius had little patience for his earnest attempt to convince the prince that the honor of their kingdom was at stake. If it had been up to him, Cassius would never haveincluded Lord Armand on the delegation. The older man was notoriously easy to offend, with a tendency to overreact to perceived slights, especially against their crown or kingdom.
That passionate loyalty was no doubt why the king had sent him. But for his part, Cassius found it insulting that his father had thought it necessary. What grounds did the king have to think that his only son needed help to ensure Carrack was shown due respect? He felt all the pride Carrack deserved—their kingdom’s position on the Peninsula was enviable, and the alliance was to Siqual’s benefit.
But he hadn’t argued about the choice of delegation members, instead focusing on convincing his father that the marriage alliance was the king’s own idea.
Cassius watched out of the corner of his eye as Lord Armand twitched an eyebrow in concentration, and several buzzing flies were swept out of his face by an unseen force. He must have used the magic created by the insects’ own motion to fuel the wind that had driven them away.
That was the other reason the king had been eager to send Lord Armand with the group. He was incredibly skilled in magic craft. Generally members of the court didn’t train rigorously enough to excel in magic manipulation. It was seen as neither necessary nor dignified for the titled, no different from pursuing any other trade. But as the king’s liaison with the Craftsmen’s Guild, Lord Armand had more license. Cassius was fair enough to acknowledge that the nobleman had a strong natural aptitude. If they encountered conflict, Lord Armand would be useful in their defense.
As long as it wasn’t his over-readiness to fight thatcreatedthe conflict.
“I think I see the Siqualian delegation ahead,” Cassius said, cutting off whatever the nobleman was saying.
The guard in charge of the delegation’s protection appeared at Cassius’s side.
“The turn off is here, Your Highness. But it looks as though the Siqualian delegation hasn’t yet taken it. They’re stopped ahead. I’ve sent someone to discover why.”
“No need,” said Cassius, spurring his horse forward. “We can ask them ourselves.”
His guards flanked him as he approached the clump of carriages pulled neatly off the road not far ahead. The reason for the halt soon became clear—one carriage was listing to the side with a broken wheel.
“Could it be a ploy?” Lord Armand mused from just behind him. “To gain the upper hand somehow?”
Cassius threw an incredulous look over his shoulder. “I see no benefit to them.”
The nobleman’s face was grim. “Perhaps it is an accident, as it appears. But if it is an attempt to outmaneuver us, we will stand ready to defend the honor of yourself and our kingdom.”
Cassius slowed his horse, his voice stern. “I appreciate your fervor for Carrack, My Lord. But I would remind you that our aim is not to antagonize Siqual but to ally ourselves with it. It is for me to handle the discussion, not you.”
“With respect, Your Highness, I have my instructions,” Lord Armand said. “His Majesty tasked me with ensuring Siqual doesn’t get away with any foul play.” He glanced upward, his eyes narrowed against the now-pounding rain. “I must say, this downpour is convenient.”
“What do you mean, convenient?” Cassius had to fight to hold back a scowl at the nobleman’s dismissiveattitude toward the prince’s instructions. Even from afar, his father’s overstimulated pride was hampering his efforts. “It seems blasted inconvenient to me.”
“The movement,” Lord Armand explained patiently. “The movement of the rain is generating a substantial amount of power. I’m well versed in the manipulation of weather-formed power, Your Highness. If I need to craft an enchantment, I should have no difficulty accessing enough magic for a powerful one.”
“I trust that won’t be necessary,” Cassius said flatly.
They’d neared the damaged carriage, and Cassius could see that its occupants had alighted. They were attempting to shelter from the downpour under the branches of a copse of trees that stood on one side of the road. Cassius realized with a start that it must have been the princess’s own carriage that met with the accident. She was unmistakable in the midst of the group in a full, silken gown of a shade of magenta that was striking, if somewhat startling. Her hair was a deep brown, pulled back in a braid that still looked voluminous. Her brows were dark, perhaps a little heavy, but with her head lowered, Cassius couldn’t easily read her expression. She didn’t raise her eyes as Cassius dismounted and a man about his own age stepped forward to greet him.