Rowan held out his hand. “You ride with me.”
“She does not,” Cayden snapped.
The two glared at each other.
“Does someone have a coin?” I asked.
They both gave me an odd look.
“You know to flip?” I asked.
“Coins don’t have different pictures on each side.” Cayden narrowed his eyes at me.
I laughed and waved him off. “Sorry, I was thinking of something from back home. You get the point, do something random.”
Rowan grunted and handed me two pieces of hay. One short and one long. A minute later, I was mounted in front of Cayden.
I wiggled in the saddle, definitely meant for one, trying to find a comfortable spot without crowding Cayden. My friend scooted back a little, and I half sat on his lap and half squished against the arch at the front.
“I didn’t realize I’d feel this tall.” The Friesian lifted a back leg to kick at a fly, and I pitched to the side.
Cayden wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close. “Is this your first time on a horse?”
Some of my confidence turned into healthy fear. “Yes.”
Rowan frowned. “You said you came from the North. How did you get here?”
“I walked,” I answered. When Rowan looked at me skeptically, I added, “A lot.”
“Ignore him.” Cayden’s left thigh tensed, and the horse sidestepped right. “You don’t need to respond to his interrogation.”
Rowan let out a frustrated breath before leading us through the Portcullis, across a wide-open stone paved area, and onto The Royal Mile. Buildings stretched on either side of me as far as I could see. What appeared to be a cathedral with flying buttresses caught my eye, but before we could get close, we turned left.
I took a deep breath. Eventually, I would explore more; today, I needed to sell my clothing and gain my independence.
“Lean back as we go downhill,” Cayden said, his lips right next to my ear.
I did, and he pulled me closer to his chest. Between Cayden’s arms and the very intimate grip the saddle had between my legs, pleasure built. Nothing as intense as self-pleasure, but it was nice. My friend might have been wrong to attack Rowan, but no one had ever defended me with that kind of ferocity. A real David against Goliath, and Cayden never flinched.
Ok, it was more than a little exciting. Cayden coming to my defense had been a big turn-on, and thinking about it wasn’t helping my current predicament. The horse continued to rock with every step. Cayden’s grip on me loosened as my balance improved, only for his thumb to rub little circles on my hip. It didn’t take long for me to be well, truly, and very inappropriately worked up.
I needed a distraction.
“How did you find me? Where exactly was I?” I asked Rowan to get my mind out of the gutter.
Rowan’s tight gaze didn’t leave the road in front of him. He shifted uncomfortably in his saddle, and a slight blush stained his cheeks. Iwrinkled my nose but decided asking him what was wrong while in Cayden’s presence wouldn’t get me an honest answer. Maybe talking would be a good distraction for both of us.
“You were under a table inside Willow’s shop.” Rowan frowned. “I picked you up and got you out of there. Freya McDonald was shopping, and if she’d realized who you were, I’m not sure we would have ever seen you again.”
I swallowed. “Is she bad?”
“Bad?” Rowan shook his head. “The McDonalds hate the Architect. They believe blood, and only blood, can tie a family together. They would use you to further add to their family, whether you wanted to or not.”
Whatever heat I’d been feeling died. I knew exactly what that meant. It’s what the old man and his sons tried to do, and what Chancellor Morgen said the Architect wanted to do. I bit my lips shut, regretting asking.
“What about your family, Quinn?” Rowan asked.
The road started to level out, and the husks of a few cars dotted the broken cobblestones. I didn’t know my models well, much less my European ones, but they didn’t look much different from the vehicles of my time. An overturned double-decker bus lay half in the husk of a massive fountain. Streaks of its remaining red paint stood out starkly against the gray day.
