“Eliminate the king, kidnap the heir, leave Ardenia and all her spoils open for the taking.”
Luca nodded, dark hair brushing his eyes. “Or even cleaner with the laws currently in place: Eliminate the king, kidnap the heir and force her into a wedding, and call Ardenia yours.”
Amarande’s throat was suddenly very dry. Anger rumbled under her clammy skin.Father, why didn’t you change the law?
It took her a few moments to revive her voice. Her grip on both his hands was fading her knuckles white in the harsh midday light.
“Either is blatant if true and lends to my argument that we must know the truth about Father’s murder before accepting a marriage contract. Both scenarios give me even more pause about our council’s reasons to rush me down the aisle and fight me on an investigation of Father’s death.”
Thank the stars for Koldo’s ability to make it happen… before impending war took precedence.
“Blatant, yes, but effective.”
“Effective, but notefficient.There are too many variables—stars,I’mtoo much of a variable. And anything could go wrong.” She nodded to the thin space between them. “We’re standing here as proof that variables destroy even the best-laid plans. If you haveaccess to hemlock, why not just wipe your foes from the playing field rather than suffer through their constant aberration?”
Luca smiled, though it was resigned. “Because variables make it a game.”
These brutal creatures, sitting high atop their furs in gems and silks, plotting how to take more because nothing was ever enough—yes, they would make it a sport. Just like they made one of her courtship via council. A game of compliments, promises, and laughter into always-full cups.
Mountain Lion. Bear. Shark. Not a one of them decent.
The princess sighed. “Have I mentioned I hate every person of royal blood on this blasted continent?”
Luca’s dimples winked in the white light. “Perhaps more than once.”
The silence between them returned as they pushed forward more, heads angled down to keep the high sun out of their eyes as much as possible. It was a comfortable silence, though, Luca always knowing when to give Amarande space.
They pushed ahead another three hours before finally reaching the tail tip of the dragon’s spine. They crept to the shadows and sat down long enough to take deep pulls of water chased by hunks of bread and curd cheese. The rest only lasted five minutes, but it nursed their muscles, stiff from riding in the days before and growing sore from hours on their feet.
They stood, the princess inquired about Luca’s leg yet again—still fine, of course—and, as Amarande fussed over her saddlebag, which was caught on the hilt of the sword at her back, Luca whistled. The princess’s head whipped around, her blood already rising at the hint of a threat—but instead of the kidnappers or robbers, something completely unexpected approached.
A palomino the color of honey butter.
She appeared like a gift from the stars—her mane was a near-white platinum and her eyes a sweet brown. She was with saddle, butthere were no other identifying aspects—no symbols, initials, not even saddlebags belonging to a discarded rider.
Still, Luca grinned as if he’d stabled the horse himself.
“Ferri, is that you?” He held his hand out, fingers offered for a sniff.
“Ferri?” Amarande asked, eyes round.
“It’s Urtzi’s horse. The boy from Myrcell.”
The horse ambled forth and took Luca up on his offer for a sniff, drawing in a whiff of his fingers, and, pleased with what she smelled, allowing Luca to rub the blaze streaking across her nose. “She must have dashed away during the fight. Are you hungry, girl?”
Luca dug into the saddlebag at his shoulder and offered the horse the heel off his loaf of bread. The horse chomped merrily. Sharing a bit of water came next. Ferri happily snuffed at the liquid in Luca’s palms.
“Will she let us ride her?” Amarande asked, eyeing the horse. It’d been dark both times she saw the camp. She didn’t remember this particular horse, but then again, she’d been watching the people.
“I think she might,” Luca said, petting her mane in wide strokes. “I’ll hop up first.” His dimples flashed. “I won’t ride off without you.”
Amarande grinned. “You better not.”
Luca wedged his good leg into the stirrup and then, with Amarande’s help, put all his weight into it as he pulled himself up to mount the mare. The swelling had returned a little with their walking, but his leg appeared leagues better than this time the day before; that much was sure.
He settled and so did the horse.
As the princess approached, the horse whipped her head around, side-eyeing her. She reached out a tentative hand, combing the palomino’s mane. “I know you want him for yourself, girl, but we come as a pair. One of us or none of us.”
