A group of armored guards bursts through the trees, their polished breastplates glinting in the sunlight. Their heavy boots churn up the forest floor, swords swinging at their hips. The leader—a broad-shouldered man with a close-cropped beard and sharp eyes—scans the pathway before his gaze locks onto Alder.
“There you are, Lord Lockhart!” His voice booms with relief as he strides forward. He stops a few paces away before dipping into a deep, practiced bow. The others follow suit, their heads dipping in perfect synchronization.
Lord Lockhart?
I glance up at Alder.
He doesn’t react right away. Just a slight tension in his jaw before he smooths it away, his expression settling into something unreadable. Then, like flipping a switch, his gaze sweeps over the guards, assessing, calculating. “Yes, you’ve found me. What seems to be the problem?”
I gape at him.What seems to be the problem?
The lead guard’s gaze flicks to me, and he flashes Alder a gap-toothed grin. “My lord, you could find a lady to sweep off her feet in the middle of a cyclone.”
Alder’s lips quirk into the faintest smirk. “You know me well.”
What the actual fuck is going on?
The guard gestures farther up the path. “We must resume our travels, my lord, if we’re to reach the Kingdom of Cups before nightfall.”
The Kingdom ofwhat? My mouth opens, ready to protest, to tell them they’ve got the wrong guy. Alder is not a lord, and this isn’t some medieval fairy tale. But before I get the words out, Alder’s fingers press against my shoulder.
It’s not a warning—not exactly. It’s the action of a man who expects to be listened to. And it’s enough to make my words stick in my throat.
“Very well.” Alder inclines his head without hesitation. “Lead the way.”
My heart pounds as the guard nods and starts back up the path.
The others follow—but then, one hesitates. His gaze shifts to me, then back to Alder. “And the lady?”
“She is mine.” It’s a statement of fact. A simple truth. “And as her knight in shining armor, I am duty-bound to protect her.” Alder casts a glance down at me, hismouth just barely curving at the edges. “A noble cause, wouldn’t you agree?”
The guards chuckle. “A noble cause, indeed, my lord.”
On the surface, the words are sweet, charming. But I hear the weight in them. It’s a statement of ownership, of certainty.
I stare up at him. I’ve made my choice, and there’s no turning back now.
Slowly, my hand finds his arm, slipping into place right where he expects it to be.
The guards march ahead, their armor clinking with every step, their boots crunching against the forest floor.
Alder leads, and I try to keep pace, but my mind is spinning, my pulse hammering in my throat.
“What is going on?” I whisper under my breath.
One of the guards glances back, his bushy red brows knitting together.
Alder’s hand tightens where it rests on mine. The silent message is unmistakable.Not now.
We follow the guards down an offshoot of the narrow path, the dense forest gradually thinning until the trees break and we emerge onto a wide, beaten dirt road lined with wildflowers and scattered boulders.
My steps falter as my gaze lands on the carriage waiting ahead. Its dark wooden frame is carved with swirling patterns of golden pentacles that glitter in the sunlight. Ruby embellishments are embedded at each corner and gleam like hot coals.
The horses hitched to the carriage are just as dreamlike. Their glossy black coats gleam like polished onyx, and their braided manes shimmer with threads of gold.They paw at the ground, powerful hooves kicking up dust as they snort and toss their heads impatiently.
This can’t be real.
My heart pounds as I take it all in, my mind struggling to make sense of what feels like a scene from a book.
