“It is. I caught Vina in the hall earlier while you were still sleeping,” he said. “Do you drink coffee?” He turned the handle on the mug to face me, pushing it closer.
“I drank it often in Bailoc,” I said as I grabbed the mug. The hot liquid scalded my tongue.
“Sometimes it surprises me how little you and Aelira have in common.” He was looking at me like he saw me—like he knew things he couldn’t.
“We are only half-sisters. My mother’s only gift to both of us was her eyes… or so I’ve been told. I have no memory of her. She died soon after I was born.” I felt bad that I could say it without crying. Aelira teared up whenever our mother was mentioned. She had memories of her I didn’t have.
“I didn’t realize that.” His voice grew softer. “I’m so sorry.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for.” It was painful to know I didn’t have a mother. That I never would, but it seemed impossible to grieve a woman I didn’t know. “We should start our day soon.”
“Can I get you something to eat before we set off?” he asked.
“That would be wonderful, thank you. And maybe you should grab your own cup of coffee too.” I clamped my hand around the mug, craving more ever since I took the first sip.
“Of course.” He rolled his eyes. “Anything for you, Your Highness.”
“Why are you calling me that?”
“Just practicing for the human world, so I don’t accidentally call you the names I want to call you.” There was something odd in his voice.
“You rarely call me anything at all.” He had said my name only on a handful of occasions.
“True.” He gripped the back of the chair when he stood. “Maybe I should change that while there’s still time to call you whatever I wish. But not now... when you least expect it.”
“This is an awful lot of buildup for something you’ll forget about before we leave the inn.”
“I forget nothing.” He smirked before he left.
I dressed as I listened to the few lingering voices carry down the hall.
Arnlow faded far behind us before the open road became ours. Fyn steadied our slow pace for hours until I had to make him stop.
The aches from last night amplified with every jolt of my mare.
“We’ll stop up there,” he said, slowing Merda before he jumped down. “Eat something and stretch your legs for a bit. We can’t afford to not make it to the next inn. There’s nothing in between.”
“Are you afraid to camp outside with me?” I laughed as I steadied myself when he helped me out of the saddle.
A chill wind nipped my shoulder as the tunic slipped. The ties had loosened around my waist. I quickly tugged themback into place, trying to knot them so they wouldn’t loosen again.
“I thought you’d prefer shelter tonight over sleeping on the ground. Ahead of here, Lythira’s forest gets denser and the sylkren roam,” he said.
The fae kingdom held few animals that were different from ones I had encountered before. My sister told me tales of the wolf-like creature that protected this territory and judged those who were not worthy quickly.
I had no desire to meet one.
Fyn took a swig of the water from his flask before placing it back on his belt. He tugged a sliver of the dark bread from his sack.
I removed mine too. The bread was so dry that it grated at the back of my throat. It needed butter. It needed anything.
The silence hung over us, causing my heart to race. I hated how much silence with Fyn unsettled me.
“How do you get used to this life? You’re gone so often.” It seemed absolutely miserable to me.
“It’s been all I’ve known for the last several years. My travels used to take me to each of Nythrel’s territories. Since the gate opened, my efforts are on the biggest trade deal our kingdom has ever made.” He gave the reminder as if I had forgotten how critical Estlen was to Nythrel.
“How old were you then?” We’d had so many conversations over the past months, but most were about training. It was only then I realized I didn’t know.
