“You’re safe,” I murmured, my eyes on the guards but my words for her alone.
“From the people, yes.” Her breath hitched, her gaze fixed ahead on the bright courtyard. “It’s you I’m worried about.”
I gave a low scoff as the Sols moved along, hand in hand, into the sun’s full embrace. “Scared of me?”
“I fear they will see far too much,” she answered with a smile, the edges strained.
A smirk tugged at my lips. I lifted my chin, stepping forward as the sunlight bathed us both. It wrapped around me, warm and full of promise—a lover’s touch. My body, starved for the sun, opened to it like a plant stretching toward the sky—a blessing from Elohios.
A brief tremor stirred deep inside me. Was I worthy of his blessing? Was I still his chosen? The lies, the deception—they weighed on me. When would I cross the line? Would he take it all back?
Nienna’s fingers dug into my arm, grounding me, pulling me into the moment.
That was a problem for another time.
Guards flanked the staircase leading up to the manor. The entrance itself seemed carved from the mountainside, its doors a portal through rock. From the porch, it looked as if the stairwell dropped off into nothingness. Clay and Gayle led the way to the edge, where the narrow stairs curved to the side, too tight for any carriage. Only a stone barricade offered a flimsy guard against the long drop.
But a single misstep from the top and the fall would be fatal.
A gust swept across the mountainside, biting and strong. Nienna didn’t falter. She leaned into it, her smile genuine, unshaken.
There it was—my Dragon’s Heart.
My attention, however, was more focused on the Sols, making their way down. I feared they might slip, but this was their home. They moved with ease, every step confident. At the base of the stairs, five mules waited, patient and steady.
Their coats were dappled, spotted like stones in a stream, and their ears flicked toward Clay as he called out to them. More sure-footed than horses, they were bred in these mountains. Our own horses could make the journey to Sol, but the risk would be far greater.
“They have such long ears,” Nienna murmured, awestruck.
I led her to the white beast. “Never seen a mule before?”
“It’s not a horse?” she asked, reaching out to stroke the mule’s nose. It snorted, soft and warm, against her palm.
“Crossbreed,” I answered, a reminder of her unfamiliarity with this world. “Sired by a donkey, dam’s a horse.”
I reached down, my hand brushing along her knee before sliding up her calf as she gripped the saddle. She tensed, a sharp breath catching in her throat, but I didn’t pull away. With a swift motion, I lifted her, guiding her boot into the stirrup. She steadied herself, the reins slipping through her fingers, her eyes focused on the creature’s massive ears, swiveling to track every sound.
“Mules are known for their deft feet!” Clay’s voice rang out from his mount beside his wife’s.
“And their sour disposition,” I added, swinging myself onto a brown-and-white mule. It stiffened under me, as if sensing my words, and I adjusted the reins. Being bucked off here would not end well.
“These were bottle-raised,” Gayle said, urging her mount toward the winding pathway. “A mare kept throwing spotted foals, and Clay had to have them.”
“It’s a rare mutation!”
I chuckled, checking Nienna’s seat, making sure she was steady before nudging my mule into motion. I stayed to the outside of the path, putting her safely between me and the mountain. Greaves, no doubt fuming behind me, couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t let Nienna near the cliff’s edge. She was too inexperienced on horseback.
A single wrong move, and a buck would send her tumbling to her death.
The Manor in the Mountains was one of the safest places in Radaan for good reason. The only paths leading to it were through a secured tunnel or a narrow cliff-side trail.
Sol itself was carved into the mountainside, but between the manor and the settlement stretched broad swaths of semi-level ground where the people farmed and raised the Kuh’lir. The area was easily defensible—only approachable over the mountains or up from the foothills, while the Velli side was a sheer rock face.
There was no conquering Sol. Its inhabitants had fought and bled for their land, but their homes and children remained safe throughout the war.
As we neared the slopes, the view of the stronghold vanished. Nienna shifted, her attention torn between the mule beneath her and trying to peer past me toward the valley. The sure-footed mules navigated the steep descent with ease, their ears pricked forward.
When we rounded the outcropping, Nienna’s gasp made me smile.
