Page 54 of Prize of the Warlord
“They were kind to me,” I tell her quietly.
She frowns, but doesn’t protest. “Your brothers wanted to be here, but we thought it safer if they stayed at home. We couldn’t risk one of them being taken. Joss refused to remain at the stronghold, but we persuaded her to wait in Hoenfel. It’s a town in the foothills…we’ll be spending the night at the inn there. We’ll be under heavy guard, never fear. No one will be able to capture you again.”
Too bad.
Aloud I say, “That’s reassuring.”
“I nearly forgot!” My mother rummages in a saddlebag and hands me a tiny pouch. “The potion for your lungs. I brought it along. Thank the gods you did not suffer any attacks while they had you.”
“I did,” I tell her. “But the Warlord helped me through it.”
My mother’s forehead creases again. “The Warlord…”
But before she can say anything else, Prince Havil waves to me from up ahead. “My bride! Come and ride beside me.”
“I should go and pacify him,” I mutter.
My mother tilts her head, eyeing me. “You seem different, my love. Before all this, you worshiped the ground he walked on, or so it seemed.”
I can’t explain now, so I say, “When we reach the inn, I need to speak with you and Father privately, about something very important.”
“Anything, my love.”
For the next two hours, I’m serenaded by the limpid tones of Prince Havil as he explains how very traumatic this entire experience has been for him. He exclaims over how brutish the Warlord looked. “No elegance or grace at all, and he probably smelled terrible. You poor darling. Here, have a sniff of my new cologne.” He stretches out his wrist, pulling the glove aside to show his skin. “It’s delightful.”
I lean over and sniff politely. “Mmm. Prince Havil, could I trouble one of your people for some water? It’s been a long ride.”
“Wine!” he barks at a servant, who produces two goblets and a wine-skin.
“Just water,” I protest, but he says, “I insist. You need something to brace yourself after that dreadful ordeal. I know I do.”
I smile through clenched teeth and sip the drink. Perhaps it will help me to endure him. How did I ever think he was charming? I suppose he can be, when he’s in his court among his comforts. When the engagement was first proposed I thought him wonderful—a man with power who could care for me and coddle me, treat me like a princess. But out here in the mountains, he just seems silly and selfish. A vapid fool.
“We should hasten our marriage,” he says. “So you can come live with me, not in this rough backwoods district of your father’s.”
“This is my home.”
“Oh my dear, no. My palace is your home now. You’ll be quite safe there. You’ll never have to go outside again if you don’t want to, except for a quick nip into and out of carriages. In our summer palace we have an entire gallery painted like a forest—such a delight, with much more appealing colors than the real thing. I don’t think you’ve seen it yet, have you, darling?”
“No,” I murmur.
I don’t speak again until we dismount in front of the Hoenfel inn, when Joss barrels out the front door and nearly knocks me over with the force of her hug.
“Damn you, Ixie,” she hisses into my hair. “I thought you were going to die. Gods, what is in your hair? Are thosebones?” She pulls back, inspecting me. “You look—different.”
“Mother said the same thing.” I give her a half-smile, and she returns it with a confused, wondering grin of her own.
“Come inside,” she says. “They have decent grub here. And I’ve explained your diet to them.”
During the meal, Prince Havil complains constantly about the poor quality of the food, while I devour my portion greedily. I’ve never tasted anything so good in my life.
My mother is too jittery to eat—she hovers behind me, unbraiding my hair and picking the bones out of it. For a second I think about asking if I can keep them—but then she tosses them into the fire. “We’ll burn the rest of these clothes, too, and put you in something decent,” she says. “I brought your softest gowns and robes—”
“No,” I say sharply, and she stops.
“I’d like to keep the clothes,” I say, more quietly.
Prince Havil bursts into disdainful laughter. “Why, darling, whatever for?”
