Page 26 of Queen of War and Ruin

The sound of hoofbeats swells in the air. I get on Zarek’s gelding. He’s nervous, and I don’t blame him.

But when the riders come into view, they aren’t wearing the blue and scarlet of Vsenrog. Thank the gods. I exhale slowly as they surround us, and then one of them pushes his hood back.

“Princess Lilias,” he says with a grin. “Gods, it’s good to see you.”

“Owain!” I cry, greeting the man who was locked in Marion’s dungeons with me.

I push my horse forward and embrace him, awkwardly, from my saddle.

“How did you get out of the dungeon?” I ask.

His smile vanishes. “Bertyl let me out,” he says. “Once they heard the Vsenrog army was coming, everyone left the castle.”

My mouth falls open, even as some part of me realizes this shouldn’t be a surprise. My father is dead. Of course Vsenrog took the castle. Marion has truly fallen.

“Left?” I ask. “Where did they go?”

Owain shrugs. “Some of them came here,” he says, tilting his head down the narrow, overgrown road that leads to the abandoned hunting camp. “Anura’s mother has them planting a garden.”

“They’re planning on staying, then,” Zarek adds, in a low voice.

Owain gives him a dirty look, but Zarek is right. If this were a temporary retreat, no one would be planting a garden.

My eyes sting, and I swallow hard. I remember the man who rode his horse up to us in the mountains and welcomed us to the Kingdom of Dungal. It was a joke, a sad, terrible joke. Their entire kingdom was just another small town hidden in the mountains.

Is that what’s going to happen to Marion? Our entire kingdom reduced to an abandoned hunting camp?

No. Gods, of course not. I shake my head, trying to knock that thought out of my mind. We still have the other allied kingdoms. Zarek mentioned an alliance between Elrick and one of the Kingdom of Lisal’s unmarried princesses, which is what the Council of Mayors wanted even before the war.

And we have Ethiria. Vsenrog pulled them into this war, even if they don’t know it yet. They’ll be our allies out of necessity, if nothing else.

I clear my throat, then turn to Owain. “I need to see my brother,” I tell him. “Immediately.”

Owain and his men trade horses with us, and two of his scouts lead us to the hunting camp. Every part of my body aches by the time we reach the lights of the camp; I try not to whimper as I dismount. The horse I rode pants and snorts, foamy with sweat from our run. I scratch him behind the ears.

“Nice work, Acorn,” I whisper.

At least they brought the horses with them when they fled the castle. It’s like seeing my friends again, recognizing the horses from Marion’s stables.

Zarek dismounts beside me. One of the scouts who led us here looks at Zarek like he’s trying to determine exactly how much of a threat my husband is, and damn it, we don’t have time for that stupid posturing. I put my hand on Zarek’s arm and face the scout.

“Take us to the prince,” I say.

The scout leads us into the common room. I freeze in the doorway.

“Gods above,” I whisper.

Owain said some of the people from the palace came here. But, from what I can tell, the entire palace of Marion is crammed into this common room. Every table is full, and the buzz of dozens of separate conversations fills the room. I see grooms from the stables, chefs and bakers, and a handful of my father’s guards. Even my father’s clothier is here, sitting next to a groom half his age who looks deliriously enchanted with him.

Zarek nudges me, and I realize the scout has already started threading his way through the room. I follow him, numbly nodding and smiling as people rush forward to greet me. I try to avoid the hugs, but there’s only so much I can do to escape them.

Finally, we reach the far side of the common room. Elrick and Anura are sitting together at the end of one of the benches, near the kitchen. Elrick still has a bandage on his arm, but he’s not nearly as pale as he was when I left. They both come to their feet as we approach. Elrick rushes forward, but I hold up my hands to stop him.

“We need to talk,” I say. “Now.”

Elrick hugs me anyway.

“Thank the gods you’re alive,” he says in a hoarse whisper.