He reached out and drew me close. I released a contented sigh as I rested my head near his heart.
“I was…” He cleared his throat, “I was afraid.”
“Of what?” I murmured, surprised that anything could scare him.
“I feared the consequences of you coming after me. And when I couldn’t find you… I was terrified.”
He took a deep breath, his chest rising beneath my cheek. “I was afraid of losing you.”
Chapter 20
We rode with purpose, our horses moving at a fast trot. Ten soldiers clad in the distinctive black armor of Wynterborne flanked me, with Sainte on my right and a sturdy, compact man on my left.
Kaen accompanied us on the recommendation of Anderz. He was not only the sole volunteer to venture into Galadier but also versed in their customs—enough so to help me teach King Reid a lesson on respecting Wynterian ambassadors.
He was of modest stature, and his wispy brown hair formed a halo around his balding scalp. As he rode, the wind tugged at the strands, creating a tattered banner trailing behind him. His nose bore the marks of multiple breaks, now healed at a slight angle, while his bouncing cheeks displayed several scars. Despite his unconventional appearance, his brown eyes sparkled with wit and intelligence. He defied the typical noble image, yet he was worth his weight in gold for the wisdom and insight he provided thus far.
We had a plan. As long as King Reid didn’t strike before we reached the city and Sainte’s soldiers refrained from stabbing me in the back, I had a chance. Kaen stressed the importance of my status, insisting I embody my royal demeanor. I had to command respect. The Glades were like sharks sensing blood, they would attack without hesitation.
This was why Sainte brought so many soldiers when he first retrieved me from Landing’s End. He assumed there would be complications sneaking me across the border. Thanks to my detour, we avoided the main cities, allowing us to travel faster than gossip could spread.
When we reached the gates, four guards formed an escort toward the palace. Castle Gladier towered above, its white walls reflecting the midday light onto the city. Larger than Wynterborne, it sat exposed on flat land, far more vulnerablethan our fortress. Hooves pounded against cobblestones, melding with the clink of armor, each sound echoing my frantic heartbeat.
“Open! At the request of Princess Elspeth of Wynterborne!” Kaen bellowed.
We rode into a clearing before the palace, and guards scrambled to obey the order. For such a small man, his voice was large and commanding. The courtyard gates swung open amidst the commotion. Our horses stormed through without slowing. We bypassed the stableboys running to retrieve the reins and pivoted toward the white marble steps.
I slid off my horse, bringing it to a halt with a movement that looked braver than I felt. Sainte’s boots hit the ground right after mine. The sound of his following footsteps bolstered my resolve as I hiked up my dress and stormed up the stairs.
The scribe near the entrance wrung his hands, dark eyes flitting over our group. “Your Highness, Princess, if we only knew–”
“If I wanted to inform you of my arrival, I would have,” I snapped, then lifted my chin high to stare him down, or at least try to, given he was the same height. “I demand an audience with King Reid.”
“I shall inform him you would like to–”
“He grants audiences now, does he not?” I replied, striding toward the castle doors. “Had an ambassador from Wynterborne made a request, your king would have seen him at this time. I will take his place.”
Bluffing with Kaen’s advised words, I relaxed a fraction when the scribe jogged to catch up, waving at the guards. They hesitated, but opened the way for me and my party at his insistent signal.
The heavy door creaked, echoing through the vast room. The musty scent of old stone mingled with the aroma of polished wood as we entered. Boots clinked against the marble floor as our Wynterian soldiers took their positions along the corridor as ordered. I prayed they would stay at their stations in case things went poorly and we needed to make a quick escape.
The scribe scurried to keep pace with my purposeful strides, struggling to lead the way. Sure, I risked going the wrong direction, but if I slowed, it would give them the opportunity for someone to send guards to prevent my audience with the king.
We approached an open doorway, and my nerves wavered as I glimpsed a dark figure on the throne in the distance.
I could do this. As a princess, I bore a responsibility to my people. They depended on me, and I couldn’t let them live in fear.
I had to be brave for them.
I stormed into the hall, striding through aisles of gathered nobles with my head held high. Silence fell, broken only by the rhythm of our boots on thepolished floor, the jangle of Sainte’s armor, and the soft swish of the folds of my dress.
The noble before the dais edged aside with a horrified expression. My eyes locked on the king’s dark gaze. As I approached, guards shifted around him, more rushing in from the doorway to join the ranks.
Clearly, they weren’t taking any chances of an attack.
“Your Majesty,” I said, tone dripping with disdain. I halted and dropped into a deep bow, keeping my stare fixed on him.
King Reid bore a robust figure, one that commanded respect and distance. His dark eyes remained unreadable, and his mouth formed a hard line, shadowed beneath a thick mustache. His tanned skin spoke of sun and heritage, while his black hair, slicked back with oil, added to his imposing presence. Clad in gold and crimson, his attire caught the light from stained glass windows that framed the room.
