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I arched him a questioning glance. His brother had told me to shut up and stop annoying him when I had whined about his numbers. But Olivander only shrugged. “If irritation helps you avoid thinking about all the horrifying what-ifs that could be befalling your true love right now, then I will put up with your peevish disposition. It’s the least I can do.”
My throat went dry with emotion. “Thank you,” I said gruffly, dipping my face as I tried to wipe the speck of dust out of my eye that was making it water. “I…” Jesus, I couldn’t talk about this. “Well, just thank you.”
“No problem. I owed you one, anyway. You were the only knight I trusted to lead Unity’s escort to Tipton when she went off to the academy, and you didn’t even try to talk your way out of it when I asked you. You’ll never know how much I appreciated that.”
I smiled fondly. “It was no trouble, honestly. She was a fun kid to hang out with.”
Olivander sighed, his expression turning solemn. “I’ve been thinking about her a lot since I learned about your situation. How none of our futures are guaranteed and we shouldn’t squander the time we have left. We should hold close those who are dearest to us. Maybe I should stop delaying her return to the castle. Maybe I should call her home already.”
“Why haven’t you?” I asked.
Growling out a sound of frustration, Olivander rubbed an aggravated hand over his face. “I wanted to give her a chance to live and learn who she was before I turned her into a wife and forced her to be stuck as my partner for the rest of her life. She’s still so young. She should get a chance to be her own person. To—to…”
He shook his head and laughed bitterly. “Oh, who am I kidding? I haven’t brought her home yet because I’m fucking scared. When they learned her true love was a prince, her parents foisted her off on me completely, naming me her guardian. I raised her from a baby, Indigo. She was like a daughter to me. How the hell am I supposed to see her as a true love after that? What if she comes back, all grown up and ready to be a wife, and I can't look at her with any kind of passion in my loins? Jesus, what if she comes back and I can? I’ll feel like a sick, creepy bastard for desiring my own mate? I don’t—I can’t…” He shook his head violently. “I haven’t seen her for almost nine years because I have no idea how to deal with the transition of protector to lover.”
“You’ll figure it out,” I said. “Your marks will help you more than you know.”
“Yeah.” Olivander’s brows knit with more worry as he agreed, though. Then he nodded slowly. “You’re probably right.” Then he glanced my way and cringed. “Sorry. My predicament sounds incredibly trite and trivial, compared to—”
I lifted a hand, stopping him. “No,” I said. “It’s a welcome distraction. Better than me complaining about everything anyway.”
Chuckling softly, the prince lifted his gaze and squinted when a rider approached, galloping at top speed to reach us. Realizing it was the scout who’d gone ahead of our party to check the roadway, I straightened in my saddle, alert, my muscles tensing in preparation for trouble.
But when the scout pulled up next to Olivander’s mount to give his report on the situation ahead, all he said was, “Another royal convoy approaches, my lord. We should intercept them presently.”
“Another…?” Olivander shook his head, confused. “Whose royal party?”
“The King of Lowden, my lord.”
“Tomrick? What the fuck is he doing in High Cliff?”
Ever since the end of the Great Lowden War, where King Ignatius had given the Lowden crown to the House of Gill, the two kingdoms had been allies, but they still didn’t cross over into each other’s territories without fair warning. And the prince obviously had no prior knowledge of the king’s visit.
Strange.
“I couldn’t say.” The scout shifted his horse uneasily as if he thought he was in trouble. “Should I prepare our entourage for a formal gathering in order to receive them properly?”
Olivander closed his eyes and sighed but waved a hand. “Yes, yes. Please do.”
“What?!” I cried incredulously. “My true love is being held captive somewhere and has most likely been tortured.” She might even be dead, I refused to add aloud. “And you want to pause for high
tea with the fucking King of Lowden? Really?”
“Jesus, Indy, shut up,” Olivander hissed under his breath. “Meeting Tomrick Gill on the road isn’t something I can just shrug off. He’s a royal. I’m a royal. Do you want me to insult the man by giving him the cut direct and risk breaking the alliance between our kingdoms? That’s the kind of thing that creates wars, my friend. Thousands of good soldiers, dead. So, yes, we’re going to stop and greet the fucking King of Lowden when he passes by.”
“Fine,” I muttered, dismounting and following him to the side of the road, where his guards were setting up a perimeter around a small clearing and transforming it into an imperial meeting space, creating seating and a table. One page was even setting out bread, cheese, fruit, and wine.
I wandered over to check out the spread, stealing a grape and popping it into my mouth. “Is all this really necessary to avoid a war?” I asked, chewing aggressively.
Olivander crossed his arms over his chest as he watched me moodily grab a slice of cheese next. “Yes,” he answered dryly.
I rolled my eyes. “Great.” Then motioning to the food, I asked, “You ever try those grumpacker fruits they grow up north? They’re pretty good.”
“I’ve never been north of Booker, so no, I haven’t had the pleasure. But Urban has praised them in letters he’s written. Are you planning to join our tête-à-tête as a guest, or would you rather stand back with the guards?”
I snorted. “As if I want to talk in fake banalities about politics or the weather.”
“Then get into position,” Olivander snapped, growing stiff and formal, his back straightening and chin lifting as he folded his hands together behind his back. “Because they’re almost upon us.”
