“Will it just be you and him?”
“I’m not sure. We haven’t talked about the details yet. I would assume so. Maybe one other, but we don’t want to pose as a threat and Ryder already does that by simply existing. Why?”
“Nothing, I just—nothing.” He pulls me into his chest as he lays back. “Just be safe. I need you in one piece when I get back.”
“I think I can do that.”
I try to tell myself that Damien leaving sooner means he’ll return sooner, but it does little to ease my nerves. At least this time he won’t be headed into Strellesia. The Southern Territories have always been known to be unproblematic, and being that his father was an emissary, I’m sure he’ll get a warm welcome.
The Dread Woods, on the other hand, are enemy territory. Whatever worries I have regarding Damien will surely be swept away the moment I land back in the dangerous forest tomorrow.
“Hey,” I offer with a quiet knock to announce my presence.
Ryder is sitting in his usual spot in the war room. There’s a detailed landscape levitating in the middle of the table. The tiny shards of glass cluster together to make model-sized images. I can tell just by the twisted and curved trees this is a mockup of the Dread Woods.
I take the seat next to him that is usually reserved for Artemus and slide over the packet of papers.
“This is all the research the others have accumulated about the Dread Woods creatures.”
Ryder picks up his packet and then sets it back down, pushing it away. “Okay.”
“Okay…what?”
“What do you want from me, Reign? I’ll look at it.”
I stand up, suddenly eager to be nowhere near him. “Jeez, you could’ve just said that.”
“Is that all?” he says dismissively, not even caring to look at me.
“Yeah. That’s all.” I reply flatly before storming out of the room. I’m so caught up in my annoyance with Ryder that I nearly run into Artemus.
“Whoa there.” He presses against the wall, trying to avoid me.
“What’s his problem?” I blurt out, motioning down the hall to the war room.
Artemus scratches the back of his head. “Oh, yeah. Look, give him a little break today.”
“Why? I didn’t even do anything to him!”
“Today is the anniversary,” he tells me in a hushed tone like he doesn’t want Ryder to hear.
“What anniversary?”
“The day of his mother’s…” he hesitates before adding, “passing.”
A ball of guilt forms in my stomach.
“I didn’t know,” I say in quiet shame.
“I know you didn’t. Don’t worry about it. He’s just not the best at working through negative emotions.”
“Any emotions, actually.”
Artemus chuckles. “So very true.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t take it personally.”
I nod and give him a hug before continuing on my way. The guilt continues to eat away at me, thinking about how hard today must be for him. My mother died when I was three. I barely knew her, and my father left me when I was eight. It doesn’t hurt like it used to.
But it’s so different for him. Even with the years that have passed since, that’s nothing in the scheme of it. With the royal bloodline, he would’ve spent over 150 years with her. The thought of losing someone after that long is unimaginable, and it makes me wish there was something I could do to make this day hurt a little less.
