Page 120 of Crown of the Courtesan

The tall grass hides us from the world while I cry and gasp until I think I’ll throw up, but Rett wraps his arms tightly around me. His warm hands run over my braided hair and down the back of my wool cloak.

He straightens my circlet and soothes, “It’s okay. It’s okay. And even if it doesn’t seem like it, it will still be okay. You will survive. You will get through this.”

“But the way they looked at me—the way they feared me,” I choke out, chest heaving. “I’m used to people’s judgments, but this is different. This makes me feel monstrous.” He withdraws a handkerchief from his satchel and hands it over. Between blowing my nose and gasping for air, I whisper, “I’m never going to be able to control this power. It’s either too weak or too strong. What if I hurt someone innocent next time?”

“First of all, being a monster isn’t so bad,” he says gently. “Second, you did the right thing. You saved those girls. It’s not like you have a habit of killing for fun. You aren’t a murderess.”

My eyes go wide, and I blubber, “You don’t understand what I’ve—” I wonder if he can comprehend me through my thick and garbled emotions, my voice unintelligible.

He holds me again until my breathing slows down. “None of us can predict the consequences of taking action. You did something most people can’t do. You fought back. Some go their entire lives without the courage to act.” He pulls me to my feet so I can look into his concerned face. “And you conquered your enemies, even if you had to unleash a terrible power to do it.”

“But—but—why do I have this inside of me? Where did it come from?” He wipes away the tears from my swollen eyes.

“I don’t have that answer, and you may never learn why. All you can do is wield it with a good heart and pure intention.”

“How? If I am unable to control it?” I remember my words of encouragement to Elodie, and my cheeks burn with more shame. I can’t even take my own advice—I’m a fraud. A fake. A pretender.

“You will have to train yourself. Start by stilling and quieting your mind and then branch out from there.”

I wipe the dirt and grass off my skirts. “Calming my mind isn’t realistic right now.”

He laughs, and the sound brings me a small, hesitant smile. “Try it. You’ll get the hang of it.”

“Rett—why do you continue to help me when I refuse to marry you? Most men would have left already.”

He looks at the sky for a long moment. “Because you’re going to be a great ruler one day. You may not believe it, but I do—and I want to be a part of that future.” Rett leads my mare over and grabs my hand to assist me into the saddle. “Besides, once we’re in the Beast Realm, you’ll happily change your mind about marriage when you see what I can offer and all we will accomplish together.”

I purse my lips but don’t say anything—not wanting to bring the mood down further. Spurring the mare forward, I lean into her mane and let her gallop on.

* * *

The endless road spares too much free time.

Too much solitude.

The silence is as vast as the endless blue sky above or the relentless wind whipping my back. My thoughts wander restlessly like a lost dog.

At Rett’s suggestion, I attempt to still my mind, wanting to wipe it clean of the fearful, bloody memories creeping in, but my determination proves as weak as my skill.

Over the long journey, we bypass and avoid villages, not taking the main road. True to our plan, we cross fields and creeks and climb hillsides until the weather gradually warms despite the beginnings of winter. We sleep on the ground, and every night, Rett insists I use his arm as a pillow before he begins to snore gently next to me.

I initially hesitate because of the memory of our heated encounter after my coronation, but nothing happens between us again. His mood is subdued for the most part, and I believe the grief of losing Drakka and even more of his horde weighs heavily on him.

Although I’m grateful for our simple friendship, knowing that he’ll eventually want more never leaves the back of my mind, like a woodpecker announcing ownership of a tree.

The bland rations of dried meat and foraged onions grow tiresome, but I don’t complain. I refuse to become more of a burden. So we eat, we travel, and I keep quiet, letting the road take over my thoughts and letting Rett silently grieve.

When we approach the outskirts of a particularly empty settlement, dread spreads across my chest as I take note of its state. The gardens are overgrown, and roofs have caved in on blackened cottage walls. Debris litters the streets. I slow my horse on top of the hill and study it from afar. Rett stops beside me and says in a hollow voice, “It’s abandoned.”

“How do you know?” I ask, squinting and surveying for any signs of life.

“The farther south we go, the sparser it’ll become.” He gives me a dark look. “The situation is dire. People are growing scared and moving into the cities.”

My knuckles tighten over the reins.

It seems Robert and his family aren’t the only ones leaving.

“Come on,” he urges his horse. “We have more ground to cover before nightfall. We’re almost to the Border Forest.”