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She trained me well. I know I can do what she’s asking. It’s thiscaptainand his men I don’t trust. If there’s one thing that’s certain, they will do whatever they want, whatever is best for them— just as the Guard always does.
The briefest image of my mother flashes through my mind.
I don’t know Princess Lena, but I do know Felshan will fall if she isn’t brought back safely— the final footing pulled right out from under us and a collapsed kingdom in the aftermath. I owe Felshan nothing, yet I can’t turn my back on those suffering as I once did. I won't leave them to fend for themselves.
The sneer of Reynauld, the slap of the boy ringing through my ears, bony fingers digging into my skin, the fear in the boy’s eyes as I handed him the bag of coin— anger is a familiar emotion, one I know how to handle well. I let its familiar energy fill me.
Those who take whatever they want, who don’t care who gets hurt in the process— they don’t deserve a happy ending.
I grab my few belongings from the stable, discarded there after my tussle with Captain Montgomery and his men. My stomach goes sour at the thought of these guards. They are a means to end. A necessary evil for now. I can do this last thing for Marg and for the people of Felshan.
There will be time to figure out the rest. Time for my savage desires to be satiated.
I swing my leg over Prue’s saddle, adjusting my feet in the stirrups, my decision firm. “Ok, lady. Let’s go save a princess.”
I look in the direction of the captain, but he says nothing, unmoving as I make my approach. He is methodically packing food and supplies on the back of his chestnut stallion. Our fourth companion hasn’t arrived, but the other is standing patiently, awaiting orders like a good little guardsman. He seems innocent enough, like the tendrils of greed and power have yet to wrap him in their grasp.
I see flecks of dried blood dotting this young man’s nose. He looks to be close in age to me, his short, sandy hair giving him more of the look of Venes blood rather than Felshan.
“Sorry about that,” I tell him, mirroring a gesture to my own nose. I’m only partly lying.
“Don’t worry about it. I told the men I was in a fight with four Kotarans. If anything, you did me favor,” the young man says. “And seeing a girl take down three guards at once— it was quite impressive to watch. You know, once the stinging from that elbow jab to the face stopped long enough for my tears to clear away.”
I smile at his candidness. Maybe I don’t completely hate this one.
“She didn’t take us down,” the captain replies, overhearing our conversation. “We weren’t trying to hurt her. In a real fight, I’m not sure she’d be able to handle a single guard let alone three.” I sigh heavily, attempting to mask my face in boredom. Hoof beats in the distance deter any spiteful response, instead focusing my attention to the rider approaching.
An older gentleman, graying roots speckling his hairline and marking him my senior by at least double my own years, if not more, heads toward us.
“Captain,” he says, tipping his head before turning his attention to me. “So this is the thief,” says the man as he dismounts, nodding in my direction. I raise an eyebrow at the captain, and he barely shrugs in response.
“My name is Ari. And if I am a thief, it’s only because those I stole fromdeservedit.” I direct my statement to Captain Montgomery, reiterating our conversation from last night, but I barely receive a huff in response.
The older man walks toward me, his unwavering smile crinkling the corners of both eyes. “You seem a bit familiar, have we met before?” the old man asks me. I don’t smile, but the corner of my lips tick up ever so slightly. No, we haven’t met before. But that sense that he’s seen me, that feeling of déjà vu, is the mastery of shadows, of blending in, of becoming one with my surroundings. He may very well have seen me, many times, like a ghost haunting the streets. They feel it, but they just can’t see it.
“Check her pockets, Otto. A few trinkets in there might seem familiar too.” The captain’s voice is hard, and the muscles in his jaw tense. I narrow my eyes at his degrading remark.
“Oh wait, I do have something,” I say, sticking my hands in each pocket, trailing them out slowing with a choice finger raised on both hands. “Although I’d say these belong to you,Captain.”
Otto gives a good hearty laugh. “I’m intrigued, Ari. I do hope you’ll honor me with your story on our journey.” Confusion dots my brow at the older man’s words, and I can see the surprise on the captain’s face as well. Seems the fourth rider will be this man. Better than Bowden. He seemed even more insufferable than the pigheaded captain beside me.
The old man holds his hand out to me. “My name is Otto.” I don’t want to take it, but something about him feels so genuine I can’t help it as I clasp my hand in his.
“What happened to Bowden?” the captain asks, walking away from his task.
“He’s not up for the journey. So I volunteered,” Otto says.
“Volunteered?” The captain eyes the older man with a raised brow. “You mean you made him step down.”
“I can’t let you go off and have all the fun. Besides, I think his pride was a bit hurt by the girl.” The older man, Otto, looks in my direction, and I’m surprised to see a bit of respect pass through his gaze. “Bowden is plenty capable of taking over for a few weeks while we’re away. This may be the last adventure I have. You wouldn’t take that away from an old man, would you?”
“Old man? I’m pretty sure you could outrun all of us here and wrestle a damn bear to the ground if he so much as wrongly glanced in your direction,” declares the captain.
Otto just smiles his agreement, lowering his voice for his next words. “You know I love Lena. Anyone who knows her loves her. Let me help with this, Roan.” The captain grabs this man’s shoulder, squeezing gently as he nods.
The older man busies himself preparing his bag and horse as Marg rides into the yard. “Parker Aldren is missing,” she says before she even dismounts. “Every palace guard is accounted for except him.”
“Did you check the barracks, the surrounding villages?” he asks.
