Page 114 of Bride of Ash & Dust

Lilias

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When Anura opens the door to wake me, I’m already sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the flickering shadows cast by the lantern on the wall behind me. The sky outside the window is just beginning to change from black to gray, suggesting the slow arrival of the sun.

“Are you feeling okay?” Anura asks as the door creaks open.

I shake my head. Gods, I don’t even know where to begin. Zarek wants to annul our marriage? As if anyone who witnessed the sham of our Unity Tour would believe our marriage hasn’t been consummated.

But it hasn’t. All of his affection for me was for show. Privately, he doesn’t even want me. Or perhaps he was planning to annul this marriage all along.

Anura sits on the bed next to me and takes my hand in hers. “You’re very brave to do this,” she says.

I blink, trying to understand what she’s talking about.

Oh. Right. Traveling to the palace, evading the troops of Vsenrog soldiers who have apparently invaded my country, and then telling my father that he is now at war with the kingdom he sold me to.

“Thank you,” I reply in a ragged voice. “I just hope he listens to me.”

Anura doesn’t respond. We sit together, her hand on mine, and stare at the stars as they wink out of the brightening sky.

“It should be me,” Anura finally says, under her breath. “I should go to the palace.”

I try to laugh, but it comes out sounding like a gasping cough.

“No,” I reply. “It should be Elrick. But I’ll do my best.”

Anura sniffs, and it occurs to me that most of the recent interactions between Elrick and my father turned into screaming matches. Maybe it is for the best that I’ll be the one to break this news to him.

“Well,” I say, squeezing Anura’s hand, “let’s get this over with.”

There are eight men and nine horses waiting for us in the courtyard. Owain is riding Prince Syvan’s white stallion, which might be a problem if we run into anyone from Vsenrog who’s familiar with their royal stables, but I don’t have it in me to talk him out of it.

Zarek is near the back, on a squat little mare with a round belly. He turns away when I look at him.

Fine. I turn away too, letting Anura lead me to the bay gelding next to Owain. We’ll be riding hard to reach the palace by this evening. I’ll just pretend the snake of Vsenrog isn’t even here.

Owain nods at me as I mount the gelding. We start out at a slow trot, moving steadily down the road toward the tree that was mangled by lightning. I refuse to look backward. Owain pulls up next to me.

“Hope your guard is up for the trip,” he mutters under his breath.

My chest feels tight, and my sleepless night isn’t helping matters. I think about the bruises on Zarek’s chest, the cut down his neck, and the way he winced when he thought I wasn’t looking.

And then I think about the look on his face when he told me we could have our marriage annulled.

I nudge my horse forward without replying.

We ride. It’s a delicate thing, to push a horse without exhausting it, and Owain balances along that knife’s edge all day. We run, then walk, then stop to rest by the river before running again. My brother’s men-at-arms are mostly silent, passing around flasks of water and an occasional hard lump of cheese or traveling biscuit as we wait for the forward scouts to return.

The countryside is oddly silent. We pass a few herds of sheep and, as we drop into the valley, cattle, but we cut wide trails around the cities and towns, avoiding people as best we can. I start to feel like we’re the only people left in the Kingdom of Marion.

The sun is dipping low against the western horizon when the scouts return from surveying our final approach to the palace. They ride slowly, then stop to drink from their waterskins before speaking.

“All clear along the road,” says the older scout, and I almost sigh with relief. “But⁠—”

He frowns, like he’s searching for his next words. Beside me, Owain is perfectly silent. I think he’s holding his breath.

“There are tents outside the city wall,” he finishes.