Page 185 of Feralheart

Servants moved through camp, preparing meals. They walked past me without acknowledgment, their eyes straight ahead. One approached carrying a bucket of water, saw me, and veered away.

All three commons riders had survived this leg of the race. A record. I’d be sure to rub it in my mother’s face when and if I saw her again.

Boren approached with two younger servants trailing behind holding trays. “I was told to bring you food and water.”

“Place it in my tent, please.”

I didn’t snap, but Boren’s shoulders went rigid. “Very well, Your Highness.”

How many other servants had flinched when I spoke with them, when I’d been too focused on whatever I was doing to notice?

Eradin flinched sometimes. Small movements I’d started catching because I couldn’t stop watching her. A hitch in her shoulders when elite riders passed too close by. The way her face went carefully blank when one of us addressed her.

I’d thought she was being cautious, but all this time, she’d been scared.

They were all scared. Of me and what I represented, and of the court I’d spent my life benefiting from without questioning.

This was what Eradin lived with every day, walking through a world where basic decency was so unexpected it registered as a threat. Where making yourself invisible was the only way to ensure survival.

“Could I have some of that water before you leave?” I asked Boren. “Please. If it’s not too much trouble.”

The youngest servant gave me a wide-eyed look before meeting the gazes of the others.

Boren gave me a small bow. “Water, of course.” He lifted the glass from the tray and handed it to me. “We’ll leave your food where you requested. Will Your Highness needs anything else?”

“No. Thank you. That’s all.”

The three left.

I drank the water, set down the glass near my tent, and walked the perimeter of the cavern, stopping where Alys’s tent would’ve been erected near Vella’s.

I hadn’t realized she cared.

I stood there for a moment, then made myself turn and walk toward Aristus.

Across the valley, Eradin was helping Reece with his dragon’s wing. Lyndie spoke to them, and they laughed, the sound carrying on the cooling air.

They’d survived together, I assumed by trusting their dragons. They’d become a team in ways my own group never had or would.

I continued toward Aristus.

He’d curled up on the ground, his head low, exhaustion bleeding through our bond.

“I’ll be back,” I told him.

I walked over to Eradin, and she turned, her gaze meeting mine before darting to my shoulder.

“You’re not resting.” Worry leaked through her voice.

“I’m not pulling at my stitches,” I said.

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Maybe I like having you patch me up.”

“Don’t say things like that,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I actually came over to see if you had any brushes or cloths. I want to groom Aristus.”