The corners of her mouth twitched despite herself. She swallowed it down; decorum demanded composure. “I thank you, Conrad of Reave, for your noble duty.”
Behind him, Darion gave a low snort, his voice pitched just enough to carry. “Solthar preserves us. If you’re Her Highness’s jester, boy, pray you don’t trip over your own feet before we even leave the pier.”
Conrad shot him a look—half-affronted, half-amused—before bowing deeper and stepping aside.
A whisper, sharp as a needle, drifted down the gangway.
“How fitting she meets them veiled,” LánYàn murmured. “Let them admire the mystery. It will make the revelation so much sweeter.”
JingYi’s spine straightened a fraction more, even when the old habit of flinching was a ghost in her muscles.
They are the past.A few more days, and they’d return to Changzihua. She would never have to see them again.
She followed the Tremorian envoy as they escorted her down the pier into the sprawling chaos of Terresard’s docks.
“Your Highness,” Darion said, appearing at her elbow once they passed the marketplace, his tone stiff. “It’ll take some time to unload the bridal gifts. They’re bound straight for Limyere Palace for the king. The men are seeing to it. Once that’s done, we’ll ride for Blackwood-Veyrde.”
He hesitated, then added in his plain, soldier’s way, “We’ve set up a tent for you past the docks. It’s peaceful enough. Rest there, get some food in you while you can. The forest roads won’t offer much in the way of fine fare.”
JingYi turned slightly, catching the way his shoulders squared, the tight set of his mouth. Darion Merrow wasn’t a man accustomed to escorting women, it seemed. An Alpha commander more at ease with orders and steel than formalities and noble courtesies.
For some reason, knowing she wasn’t alone in her discomfort put her at ease.
“That is very thoughtful, Sir,” she murmured. “Thank you.”
He gave a curt nod before stepping back.
Conrad, however, watched her carefully. He must’ve noticed her discomfort in the marketplace, because he offered her a small, reassuring smile.
“Fear not, Your Highness. We’ll soon leave the bustle of Terresard. The journey to Blackwood-Veyrde will be long, but we’ll do our best to make it comfortable.”
His tone was without court polish or stiff formality—just simple kindness.
She knew better than to trust kindness.
Still, she found herself smiling as she let them lead her through the throng.
CHAPTER 6
JINGYI
The tent in the roped-off corner of the port was modest but orderly. As her ladies-in-waiting sneered at the ‘servant’s fare,’ JingYi took the farthest chair. Stomach still lurching from the voyage, she only sipped tea while watching the others freely eat the offerings they’d scorned.
Minutes later, Conrad appeared at the entrance. “Your Highness, we’re ready to depart, if you are.”
JingYi rose swiftly, forgetting about her right leg. She’d barely caught herself before she stumbled.
The boy reached out to steady her, eyebrow arched. “Your voyage must’ve been incredibly rough. I see your legs are still shaking from the turbulent seas.”
She bit her lower lip, heat scalding her cheeks. Lord Wulfbane hadn’t told his men, it seemed, perhaps in an attempt to preserve her dignity.
As if on cue, the three women behind her tittered. Conrad’s gaze flicked past her shoulder, brown eyes cooling before he smoothed his expression back into careful neutrality.
“Forgive me,” he said, “You must be eager for fresh air that doesn’t taste like salt.”
“It is certainly an adjustment,” she admitted, “but I don’t mind it.”
His mouth quirked. “Inland air is kinder. And if it isn’t, ginger works wonders against nausea.”
