Page 77 of Destiny of a King

He looked to Ernach. “We will speak again soon.”

“Aye, my king.”

Dravic led Adira from the cottage.

The village no longer carried the sorrow it had the day before. Where there had been fear and grief, there was now celebration. Faces brightened when they spoke of Vachel’s daughter. Villagers moved in and out of the cottage carrying food and gifts, eager to share in the joy of a family who had nearly lost everything.

Adira watched them quietly. She should have been comforted by their happiness. Instead, her attention remained on the man beside her… the king.

She felt the heaviness within him.

It was not difficult to recognize. She had seen it before—the distant look in his eyes, the way his thoughts pulled him away even when he stood beside her. His expression had settled into the stern scowl that caused others to step aside, but she knew now it was not anger.

It was a decision and one that would not come easily.

The king carried every choice as though it rested solely upon his shoulders. He searched every path, every danger, every consequence before he acted.

And now something troubled him.

Adira turned her attention away from him for only a moment.

There it was again. A sound? A whisper in her ear.

She looked toward the trees beyond the village to the forest. Did it continue to call to her? Was it trying to tell her something?

She did not know, but she would pay attention and learn.

For now, her concern was the king.

They had only walked a short distance when Dravic slowed.

Adira followed his gaze toward the edge of the village.

A group of riders approached, and Cadby immediately moved closer to the king, his attention fixed on those arriving.

Adira watched Dravic carefully. His expression changed little, but she felt the shift in him. The thoughts that had weighed heavily on him moments before narrowed into purpose.

The approaching riders wore the familiar dark garments of Hunters. At their head, rode Percy and behind him came several more Hunters, along with a handful of warriors bearing the colors of Caerith.

Percy dismounted and approached, bowing his head. “My king.”

“You did good, Percy.”

The king’s praise had Percy drawing his shoulders back and with a snap of his hand, he had a Hunter bring a man forward.

The prisoner stumbled slightly as two Hunters forced him ahead. His face showed evidence of their efforts to gain answers. His lip was split, one eye darkened with bruising, and his clothing carried the marks of a struggle.

Yet his expression held no surrender.

Dravic studied him as he asked Percy, “What did you learn?”

Percy shook his head. “Little, my king. He refuses to speak.”

The prisoner lifted a defiant gaze to Dravic but remained silent.

Dravic stepped closer. “You endured the questioning of the Hunters.”

The man said nothing, his look remaining defiant.