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“The salmon is excellent,” Kaera says, smiling.
Elara’s eyes widen, a wave of embarrassment washing over her. “It is better than anything I have eaten in Veyrenn.”
Kaera’s smile widens. “I would not know about Veyrenn, but our chefs are excellent.”
“I am willing to try more. All my life, I would eat chicken with heavy amounts of pepper or beef that is overcooked,” she admits, before pausing, that she might have spoken too much.
Kaera’s expression softens, before leaning forward on the dining table. “I understand that,” she continues. “I recall one of our old chefs cooked our beef horrendously, leaving some cuts entirely rare and others
overdone.” Turning her head toward Cael, she offers him a smile that seems to share an inside joke. “Right, Cael? I remember the expression upon your face.”
Cael’s lips twitch, before he adjusts his expression and continues to eat. His gray eyes flick upon her, observing her in silence before his attention shifts away again just as quickly.
Elara's throat goes dry and she puts down her fork, balling her hands in her lap. “Cael and Kaera, will you please take me to the kingdom?”
Cael pauses and turns toward her once more. His expression softens in a way few people would notice, catching Elara by surprise. She tilts her head, searching his eyes to see if the warmth is genuine, before he offers a nod of approval.
“Bonding trip,” Kaera says, smoothing the fabric of her dress as she stands and begins to lead the way out of the dining hall.
Elara rises to follow, her gaze lingering on the prince as he pushes his own chair back. The smile that graces Cael’s lips is barely visible, subtle enough to go unrecognized by anyone else.
But Elara recognizes it.
IX
MOCKED IN SILENCE
E
Cael moves ahead of Elara.
He walks with long, measured strides that force Elara to quicken her pace simply to keep up with him. There is no modern swagger or display in his walk, only the steady pace of a man comfortable with his own authority. Kaera is already near the entrance, mounted on a large, dark brown horse with a rippling mane.
Cael descend the steps, the wind growing stronger as they move, almost as if he controls the weather. Gathering the heavy folds of her skirt, Elara steps down after him. The chill wind bites at the exposed skin of her face and she shivers, drawing her arms closer around herself. She turns around and looks up at the palace, her eyes widening at the scale of the fortress from the outside.
Drawn toward the winter roses since last night, Elara steps forward to bend over the frost-hardy blooms, inhaling their rich scent and brushing her fingers against the petals. Her thoughts fill with memories of her mother and how dearly she had adored them. She recalls her smile, the warmth in her eyes whenever her father grew them just for her. One of the petals falls, despite the flower's fresh appearance.
A quick glance around ensures no one is watching, Elara turns her back to Cael, who remains some distance away, she clasps her hands together to pray. “World, I ask that you grant me something good. It does not need to be now, but even something small in a lifetime will suffice. Please, hear me,” she whispers against her folded hands, feeling her breath warming the cold skin.
The thud of hooves against the ground rises behind her. She turns to see a large white steed standing nearby, its long mane flowing and its blue eyes bright enough to rival the open sky. Remaining perfectly still, Elara watches, hesitant to approach. Cael moves with ease, placing a black and light leather saddle atop the steed’s back, buckling it securely.
An unrestrained smile touches Elara’s lips as she places her hand gently against the animal’s soft muzzle, her touch careful.
Turning, she finds Cael drawing closer. He mounts the steed, his hand moving to ruffle the side of its neck. This steed trusts him, and he trusts it in return. She sees it in the softened set of his features and the slight lift at the corner of his lips.
An attempt to mount the animal fails when her foot slips against the stirrup, the heavy layers of her skirt disrupting her balance.
A sigh escapes her. As she tries to gather the fabric, Cael dismounts and steps beside her. He takes her hand. Elara flinches, her heart racing at the sudden proximity, and looks up into his eyes. His expression remains neutral, though his cheeks grow faintly pink.
With effortless strength, he lifts her and sits her securely into the saddle. He mounts once more, positioning himself in front of her, and pats the steed’s neck to signal it forward. Elara watches the silent interaction. Usually, from what she has seen with the guards and knights in her castle, they would whistle and click their tongues.
Cael does not do that. Rather, he simply pats the horse and flicks his wrist. She tenses as the horse begins to move, the ground shifting beneath them. Elara forces her spine straight, though it strains her posture, reluctant to touch him. Attempting to anchor herself, she reaches down to grasp the slippery leather side of the seat, but the shifting movement of the steed only leaves her more unstable.
With a sudden jolt, her hands fly forward to grasp the thick fabric of his coat. Cael tenses instantly at the contact, his body turning rigid beneath her touch, but he continues forward without a word.
He adjusts his seating on the saddle and moves a little further forward, leaning the upper half of his body away so that there is space left between them. Elara relaxes, finding comfort in the inch of extra space, despite her hands grasping him.
“Today’s duties are light. We observe the kingdom to check for any issues. It includes visits to the small taverns and bakeries where the owners serve refreshments and food to sustain the people,” Kaera says, looking over at Elara. “It is the duty Cael and I enjoy most, if the people are cooperative. As long as it is not overwhelming, I do not mind.” She smiles.
