Page 76

“Ah,” Elian nodded. “As far as ways to go… That sounds pretty rough.”

A lump swelled against Thicket’s throat, the image still too freshly painted in her mind. She swallowed it down, lowering the sword. “How are you feeling?”

“Happy I didn’t really get impaled,” he joked.

That brought a ghost of a smile to her face. “Do you remember that little boy,” Thicket asked, resting her hands atop the hilt of the sword. “The one who bombarded us with questions?”

“Vividly,” Elian laughed.

“Apparently, he’s Lotta’s little brother. Liam.”

“Huh,” Elian said. “I admit, I didn’t expect that.”

“You never met them before?” Thicket asked.

He shook his head. “Lotta kept her family and work life very separate. She’s professional that way.”

“Far more than either of us. And we are supposed to be royalty.”

“Tell me about it.”

She hadn’t realized she had drawn closer to him. They stood only a pace away now, close enough to feel his breath stir the baby curls wrapping around her forehead and cheeks. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around him. Elian stumbled but caught himself quickly. It took only a second before he returned her hug.

“You don’t know how relieved I was when I saw you were okay,” she mumbled into the crook of his shoulder. Elian pressed her tighter to him. His presence and warmth eased the lingering chill of her dream more than any words could.

This. This was nice.

Maybe being friends would work. They didn’t have to give into the awkwardness and could do as Elian said. Get to know each other properly before adding any more titles or significance.

A throat cleared behind them. Thicket and Elian jumped apart, revealing Marcellus standing at the top of the slope.

“I-is it time to leave?” Thicket stammered.

“Not yet. Lotta has an idea about how to get inside the Desert Kingdom undetected.” His eyes cut between them like a blade. “If you aren’t too busy.”

Elian backed away. “We aren’t.” He gave Thicket one last look before descending the slope. Marcellus remained, the lines of his face harsher than ever.

She held out his sword. “Sorry,” Thicket said. “For taking it without asking.”

Marcellus stared at it for a long, hard moment. He grabbed the pommel, careful not to brush his fingers against hers. “You don’t need to apologize for anything.”

They returned to the cave in silence.

Lotta was sorting through a woven basket stuffed with leaves and an assortment of fruit and nuts she had never seen before. Bern was crouched in front of her, watching with rapt interest.

“Marcel said you had a plan to get us into the Desert Kingdom?” Elian asked.

“I do.” Lotta pulled out a long, thin, spike tipped leaf from the basket. She held her hand out. “Your knife.”

Marcellus dug it out from his belt and handed it to her. Thicket hadn’t even known he had a knife.

Lotta used the blade to scrape the exterior of the leaf. When she was done, she grabbed a rock and bashed it a few times, splitting the leaf into dozens of thin strands, before rolling them together, producing a long string fit with a sharp, needle-like tip. “Let me see your hem, Bern.”

Bern scooted closer. Lotta took the base of her skirt in her hand and wove the makeshift needle and thread in and out of the fabric. When she was done, a small bird was embroidered along the edge, wings outstretched as it flew into some unknown destination.

Bern cupped the needlework in awe. “This is the most precious thing I have ever seen.”

“I had no idea you could do that,” Thicket said, staring at the makeshift needle and thread in awe.