Jaceon’s brow furrows, and he meets my eye with a grim look. “People. A handful got off the boat. Most appeared to be part-bloods and lower fae, and the travelers stayed the night here before they left on the boat this morning.”
He looks around once more before he says, “Five of the regent’s males boarded the ship to travel to the Northern Lands. They wore plain clothing and cloaks, but I can spot a guard better than most.”
My eyebrows creep upwards, and I glance over my shoulder at the crowd milling behind us. They give our horses a wide berth, setting a perimeter without direction from us. I know they don't give the same treatment to the regent’s guards, having seen them posted in the area for centuries and clearly distinguishable by the off-tone blue of the colors they wear.
Jaceon is perceptive, it’s why I chose to station him here in the first place. “The folk here know it's never a good thing to see a high fae prince riding through the backwoods areas of the kingdom. Bad luck always follows.”
I nod and hand over a purse full of silver, because no one here could break a single gold coin let alone a bag of them. As I climb back into Nightspark’s saddle, my uncle’s possible motives churn through my mind, none more likely than another. I let myself consider them for only a moment before pushing the regent out of my mind, my mate the priority today and my uncle’s schemes something to worry about later.
How she escaped notice is a concern. Maybe she was concealed by magic.
I curse under my breath for not arriving yesterday and seeing the ship for myself. It was a careful decision, made to stop my uncle from sending guards to follow me. We left at the last possible minute so no one could beat us here, but in doing so, I might have missed a vital clue to my mate’s disappearance.
“I think there's a disease going around,” Roan mutters to me as we ride onto the main road through the port village, looking down his nose at the guards as we pass them.
As they bow, every last one of them stares at me defiantly, emboldened by my uncle's reign and his not-so-subtle surety that the throne will stay in his power. Rumors of what will happen if I don’t marry soon have grown more rampant, the tasks my uncle assigns me have grown more dangerous, and the gossip mongers among the Unseelie Court have become far too bold.
I look around at the lower fae and part-bloods, but I don't see whatever it is that Roan does.
When I meet his eyes, he merely shrugs. “The guards out here are supposed to feed them. There are supposed to be rations for all. If they aren’t doing so, it’s treason against the regent, as it was his decree. If they are, then there’s definitely a disease running through the population. Most look ill.”
The idea of my Fates-blessed mate catching something and ailing when we have no true healer sets fire to my blood.
Whoever brought her here is going to die.
Surely she must have guessed who I am by now; my thinly veiled efforts to conceal my identity from her during those few brief months that we communicated can’t have held up, and she must know exactly who she is fated to be with.
I’m sure of it.
I worry sometimes that it was my fault she was kidnapped in the first place. There’s every chance that my uncle sent his guards or paid mercenaries to keep her from me and buy himself time to steal the throne from underneath me. Bloodlines be damned—if he’s responsible for her disappearance, I’ll kill him too.
Those words have never passed my lips, not even to my cousins and closest confidants. What a sad state of affairs, to be forced to slaughter your own blood, but I doubt similar hesitations have crossed the regent’s mind. To loathe your brother so much—to loathe the very air your nephew breathes—simply because you were born second and felt you were owed more.
When we reach the center of the village and the decrepit market there, I dismount from Nightspark once more and hand his reins to one of my soldiers, instructing half of the group to stay put and watch the horses and the other half to follow me through the booths.
We didn’t bring an extra horse for my mate.
Most high fae princesses travel in carriages, and it’s a very real possibility that my mate doesn't know how to ride a horse or will be wearing clothing that will make it difficult for her. My uncle and his spies would’ve known exactly what I was doing if I traveled out of Yregar with a carriage for her though, so I left it behind. Nightspark is more than capable of carrying the added weight of another high fae, and with my mate in front of me, even at a slower pace, we’ll make it to Yregar by nightfall thanks to the fae door.
The idea of learning her name—the real one and not just some pet name of affection—shoots a possessive streak of fire deep into my gut.
I packed extra provisions and planned where we could stop with a female to keep her safe if, for some reason, we’re unable to travel by the fae door. Every scenario has been considered, the paths home assessed and listed in order of preference, and as the Fates pull harder on me, I’m glad for my obsession as my mind becomes possessed by the drive to find her.
Roan follows me, his gaze on the marketplace around us before he sweeps off his cloak in one fluid motion so his sword is more accessible. The villagers around us avert their eyes, as if merely looking at him will cause that sword to swing in their direction, but his own eyes stay sharp.
Tyton seems to have shaken the demons from his mind. He follows Roan’s lead and shrugs his own cloak off, the summer sun finally warming the chill of last night away and rendering the extra layer unnecessary. His eyes have cleared, now that we’ve made it to the valley and put enough land between us and the mourning trees of the Ravenswyrd.
Tauron tucks himself closely to my side, a wall of protection I'm sure I don’t need.
When I shoot him a look, he shrugs. “You're distracted. No matter how hard you deny it, you cannot convince me that your mind is not elsewhere right now. Even with those keenly honed senses of yours, someone could get the better of you.”
I know exactly who he’s referring to. Even in the old language, he won’t say it out loud for fear of who might hear it and understand. If my uncle was the one to take her, he could have laid a trap here to finally be done with me.
If she also knows this is the time and place that we are destined to meet, they could have gotten that information out of her. Without knowing her lineage or her upbringing, there’s no way to tell how experienced she is with court life and the games we play to survive.
I give Tauron a curt nod and continue into the markets, a Fate-fueled energy that feels like magic filling my veins. She's here, I can feel it. I can hear the Fates speaking to me, urging me to find her and be with her. I curl my hands into fists to control myself, my entire body filling with tension.
The simple stalls around us sell mostly food and weapons, though several merchants stop negotiating when they see us coming. Without a doubt in my mind, those are the ones who sell flesh. I don't need to focus on them to memorize their faces, a simple glance is all it takes. I’ll remember them until I’m able to hold them accountable.
