Diedre
My future husband strolled the garden with me, but his focus was elsewhere. If he wanted to spend time with me, why did he ignore me? Before Prince Lorenzo left for the coast, he paid attention to everything I said.
I missed him.
Fernando’s boots scraped against the path and the line between his brows deepened as we approached the wall of hanging vines.
I swallowed against the sensation of prickles in my throat.
“If you’re busy, we could walk later.”
He inhaled, as though waking from his thoughts. “No, my dear. I have time for you.”
Heat warmed my cheeks, and I glanced down at my slippers.
He paused his steps and gently took my elbow so I’d face him. He was so much taller than me. I liked that about him.
“We need to delay our wedding.”
All the warmth drained from me, and an icy shiver ran down my spine.
“Why?”
Both of our kingdoms needed this alliance, and waiting weakened the political bonds between them.
“You’re not old enough.”
Anger replaced the chill. “You promised my father you’d make me a queen.”
He nodded, stepping back. “And he assured me you were eighteen. But that’s a lie, isn’t it?”
An exasperated sound huffed from me. “I look younger than I am!”
He clenched his jaw. “Do you have monthly cycles?”
My eyes widened, and I spun around, pressing my hands to my chest. I’d never discussed such things with a man before. While my handmaids dealt with menses and I was knowledgeable about it, I had not experienced it yet.
He continued speaking even with my back to him, “my father demanded a royal bride to ascend the throne, and yours needed a bond with Astralind.”
I did everything to not cry. “You can’t do this.”
He stepped closer, and I felt his breath wisp across my neck. “I will keep you here if you prefer, but I will not marry you until you’re fully grown.”
“I’m not a child,” I hissed over my shoulder.
He gripped my chin before I looked away, and my body followed to relieve the unpleasant position.
“Do you know what would happen if a man my age tried to wed my sister?”
I gulped, but didn’t answer.
He gestured with his other hand, miming slitting a throat. “I’d kill him.”
I believed him, but stiffened my upper lip in defiance. He let me go with a sigh.
“Honestly,” he muttered, “A younger match would be better for you, like Lorenzo.”
My heart skipped at the thought, then I stamped it down. With a scowl, I gathered my dress into my trembling fists.
“I am not your sister. I’m your future wife, and my father will kill you if you break our engagement.”
Bolin
Patrick and I trotted west on our newly purchased mares. The beasts kept a decent pace, despite our inexperience with them. The merchant dictated care instructions which I’d written on a parchment that sat folded in my inner pocket. I didn’t realize how much they needed to eat. We bought saddlebags and grain to supplement their grazing and still had coins leftover to hide in multiple pockets and bags.
“Never carry all your gold in one pocket,” was a well known Damaian proverb. We took it seriously.
A few miles outside of Astralind’s capital, the cobbled road turned to packed dirt with deep cart lines.
“How’s your leg, my treasure?” I asked, peering behind.
Patrick smiled at the pet name. He always did, which was why I used it so often.
“I’m fine, love. I’ve brought poppy extract for when it gets bad.”
While I figured he had, the confirmation eased some of the anxiety swirling in my gut.
I squinted forward, wishing I knew when Stella left and how she was traveling.
Assuming she and her companion had horses and started after breakfast, that meant roughly five hours’ head start.
Where are you?
“We’ll catch up before they reach the border,” Patrick said, as though he could read my thoughts.
“I hope so.”
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