This doesn’t sound like her. Has something else upset her, other than her encounter with the Mage? What did she see in there? What else did they tell her?
Balthorne clears his throat. “Princess, we have a long journey back to the kingdom. If we are finished here, we should turn back so we can find a suitable place to camp for the night.”
She gives a curt nod and pulls her cloak around her. “We’re done here.”
She goes to her horse, jams one foot in the stirrup, takes hold of the saddle, and pulls herself up and over in one easy move. I admire that she’s an accomplished horsewoman. She’s strong and brave and beautiful. She talks about love. Is thinking these things about a person whatlove is? Or the way I can no longer think or care about anything other than her?
No, I don’t love her. I’ve never loved anyone—sometimes I doubt I even loved my own father. It wasn’t as though he ever gave me any reason to love him. He robbed me of my mother and had the castle staff raise me. Then he locked me inside a cage for the rest of eternity.
If that’s what love does to a person, I’d prefer to have none of it.
I return to my horse as well.
I’m still convinced Taelyn’s not telling us the whole truth of what happened in that cave. Perhaps it is none of my business, but I’m curious, and I hate to see her upset. I vow to find a moment alone with her before the day is out.
We turn the horses around and head back the way we’ve come. The mood hanging over our small group is somber, which feels wrong. Shouldn’t we be celebrating? We achieved what we wanted. Perhaps the Mage’s answers weren’t as clear as Taelyn would have liked, but we still have time to unravel their meaning.
I want to ride beside Taelyn, to question her further, but it’s clear she’s not in the mood to talk. I tell myself the important thing is that she’s safe, but I don’t think she’d agree with me. She came here to get answers, and from what she told us, she came away with only more questions.
We ride for a couple of hours. There’s still light in the sky, but the temperature is dropping, signaling night will soon be upon us. We’ll need to set up camp before it’s too dark to see what we’re doing.
I wonder if Taelyn will allow me to slip into her tentagain to keep her warm, or if she’ll be guarded against me now. Maybe I shouldn’t have said what I had, but I’d meant it. She does want to fuck me; she just hasn’t admitted it to herself.
“This is as good a place to stop as any,” Balthorne announces, bringing his horse to a halt. “The ground seems firm enough.”
I glance around at the barren moorland. He’s right—it is as good a place as any. Everything looks the same around here. No one has dismounted yet, though. It’s as though we can’t bring ourselves to accept that we have to sleep out here for another night.
My horse paws at the ground, shakes his head, and gives a low whinny. The animal’s behavior is quickly picked up by the other horses.
“I don’t think the horses want to camp here,” I say.
Something has spooked them. They neigh and snort, and one rises to its hind legs. Another turns a full circle, against its rider’s wishes, as though it’s looking for something.
“What’s happening?” Taelyn asks, clearly nervous.
“I don’t think we’re alone,” Balthorne says.
“What should we do?” I ask. “Dismount and cover the princess? Or should we keep going and hope to outride whatever it might be?”
For once, the normally confident man seems unsure. He doesn’t reply but scours the surrounding moorland. We still have light, and nothing is obvious, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing here. These lands are filled with dark magic and monsters.
“What do you think it is?” Taelyn presses him.
He shakes his head, his lips thinning to a line. “Honestly, Princess, I have no idea.”
“If we can’t see it, we can’t outrun it,” I say. “My vote is that we dismount and prepare to fight.”
We always knew coming out here was going to be dangerous. The other guards pull their horses to a halt. Staying mounted isn’t safe. The animals are becoming more distressed, their ears pinned back against their skulls, the whites of their eyes showing. Several rear up and snort their distress. I don’t want to see Princess Taelyn being thrown. A broken leg out here would not be a good thing.
Balthorne nods. “Agreed.”
We climb off and draw our weapons, moving into a circle to protect Taelyn. I don’t have a full-length sword like the guards, but I have a large dagger, the weight of which feels good in my palm. The horses still aren’t happy, and their nerves filter through to the rest of us.
Seemingly from out of nowhere, a flash of sleek black fur darts out in front of us. One of the guards lets out a scream of agony, and then he’s gone, leaving only a patch of dark blood on the cold, hard ground.
“By the gods,” Taelyn says under her breath.
She pulls a dagger, too, and stands with her legs apart, braced for attack. We surround her, trying to offer her protection, but what if this creature kills us all and leaves her vulnerable?