As Veylar’s hooves pounded the rocky ground, I remembered it. The day the marriage pact was announced. Thalen kissed me and when he pulled back, the sunlight illuminated something on his tunic—a golden emblem.
It couldn’t be the same.
Maybe it was just similar.
“Are you okay?” Fyn yelled to me.
The path finally widened enough for Fyn to bring his horse beside Veylar. My hands shifted on Lioran’s chest.
I remembered it clearly. My throat tightened. The insignia was identical. They saidhewanted me back safely—it hadn’t been King Ardyn.
It was Thalen.
He had fae riders in his command. They knew how to track me.
The divide couldn’t stop him. More would come.
“The attackers in the woods…one wore an insignia.”
Fyn’s eyebrows knitted.
A low, dull groan rumbled through Lioran and collided with me like he was listening and waiting for my answer.
“King Ardyn has an ally, Lord Thalen of the Vale.” I exhaled louder than I intended. “He wears the same insignia.”
“The King of Bailoc and Lord Thalen of the Vale are allies?” His words echoed in my ears. How did he know him? I nodded.
Fyn shifted in his saddle. “Why would a king who hates the fae ally himself with one?”
He couldn’t have said what I thought he had.
Thalen wasn’t just the Lord of the Vale.
He was fae.
His eyes glowed in my father’s study, but I dismissed it. When he touched me, something stirred within me. I thought I was having feelings for him, but what if it was something else entirely?
My head throbbed as I recalled their first conversation about the marriage pact. Each pointed question asked after the next. My father…Lord Joran…Agan…they all knew. They chose him not just for the supplies, but because he could handle the parts of me that were like him.
“You…know him?” I asked.
“He has a bit of a reputation in our kingdom. Thalen’s highly tolerated by those in powerful positions in the High Court, but many of us see him for who he truly is.”
“And what is that?”
“A self-serving opportunist.” Fyn’s words rang in my ears.
What opportunity did he see in marrying me?
A chill ran from the gemstone through my body.
“How well do you know him?” Fyn wiped the sweat that was dripping from his brow.
They’d never look at me the same again, if they knew he could claim me. “Minimally.” The word caught in my throat.
I steadied my hands on Lioran’s chest, hoping he couldn’t feel them trembling.
Veylar hit a divot in the ground, jolting us. My hand slipped from Lioran’s chest. He bolted upright in the saddle, growling. Lioran slumped forward again. I desperately pulled him back into my chest.
