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I nod. “And the alliance with the Davenports would have been a good one for my family. My mother went to great lengths to break that promise in order for me to marry Roan. That’s how important it was to them. They were willing to destroy our ties with the Davenports to make it so.” I fidget as the words take hold.
“That doesn’t answer my question,” he replies, daring yet again to ask, “Do you love him?”
But I know he already knows the answer. I stare off at the great Prythan peaks in the distance. “No. But maybe if given enough time, I could have,” I whisper, his exhale the only confirmation he heard my answer. His body hardens beside me, not missing the insinuation that my life has been inherently shifted from any trajectory that would have allowed me the chance to love and be loved.
He has taken me away from that life, from a place where I could potentially muster the courage to defy traditions that have taken away my liberties—to choose my place, my husband, my position. It almost makes me laugh as I realize how ridiculous everything has become in only a short amount of time.
I’m just imprisoned in another way, sitting here beside him. I suppose there are worse things than sitting by a handsome kidnapper. A blush rises to my cheeks as if Parker can hear my thoughts.
I clear my throat, shaking away my embarrassment. “You never answered my question, either. Where are you taking me?” I ask again, feeling more determined to retrieve an answer.
He hesitates for only a moment. “I have orders to take you to Thenstra.”
“Thenstra?” My surprise is hard to mask. I have zero sense of direction I’ve come to realize, so he could be lying. But what would be the point now? He could have said Venes or Jadeya, and it wouldn’t have made much of a difference.
Except no one has come in or out of Thenstra in over twenty years. I hardly know anything about it, and that’s as frightening as sitting here with two people who had the gall to take me from my home against my will. If it had been Venes or Jadeya, I would have had a little comfort. I know those places. I've visited each several times. I know their people, but not Thenstra.
“Thenstra,” he repeats.
I bite onto my lower lip as I look north. “Well. Who ordered you to take me there?” My hands are shaking before I clasp them together to mute the spasms. But he says nothing in response.
“Was it your idea to take me in the first place? Why take me at all? What does anyone have to gain from taking me to Thenstra, of all places?” My questions are boiling over, brought on by my ever growing anxiousness and profound desire to be free.
He continues to face forward, a frown pulling his features inward. “It wasn’t my idea. And I don’t know why they want you.”
“They? Who’s they?” I’m almost yelling now, leaning forward in my seat as I speak. Parker turns to me, wide-eyed, motioning to the back of the wagon at Onah’s sleeping form.
“I can’t answer these questions, Lena. I’m sorry,” he quietly tells me, shaking his head.
My jaw tightens at his reluctance. Suddenly, I remember I’m not just shooting the breeze with a friend. Parker has been kind and friendly toward me, especially as of late, leading me to forget his true purpose here. He’s my enemy. He’s taking me to someone who most definitely doesn’t want my best interests to come to fruition. I scoff at him, folding my arms and matching his now forward gaze. So many things don’t add up.
“I will do whatever I can to help you, I promise,” he says after a few moments, finally facing me.
“Let me go then,” I reply. I raise my chin, now refusing to look at him.
He rakes a hand through his air, closing his eyes as a deep sigh escapes him. “I can’t do that.”
“Then your promise falls flat. Because doing whatever you can to help me would mean letting me go.” I look at Onah asleep behind us, and I lower my voice. “You could take Onah. Goodness, I could probably take Onah. Just give me one of the horses, and a little bit of food. I’ll find my way just fine.”
He chuckles a little. “You obviously don’t know her very well. Or your lack of navigation and outdoor survival abilities.” I glare at him even though the insult is valid. But I decide I’m unamused as to whatever Onah-fighting knowledge is rolling around inside his head, not his truthful quip. He spots my fiery stare, losing all the humor he had before.
He lowers his voice to match my own. “I know I seem like a monster. What kind of man would steal some girl from her bed in the middle of the night, taking her across the country to who-knows-where against her will? But I have skin in the game too. People depending on me to see this through. No matter how badly I feel about it.”
He has skin in the game? What a ridiculous excuse. I bury my face in my hands, not wanting to acknowledge him in the smallest bit.
“You can think of me as the oath-breaker, and I deserve it. You can hate me until the end of time, and I would deserve that as well. And you definitely don’t have to trust me. But I promise you— if I could let you go, I would’ve a long time ago. In fact, I wouldn’t have taken you in the first place. I don’t want to hurt a princess any more than I want to cut off my own arm,” he says.
There’s so much more I want to ask, but I know time is limited as another snore carries from the back of the wagon. I try to unclench my teeth as I pry for more answers.
“At least tell me who ordered you to take me. If it wasn’t your idea, if you want me to comply from here on out, I need to know who told you to do this. Otherwise, I’m going to assume from now on that you’re a princess stealing fiend who finds joy in taking innocent girls away from their families,” I say, although my surface-level threat definitely falls short.
My mind has teetered on panic since the moment I awoke in the wagon, discombobulated and afraid. That paired with the complete unknown of what lies ahead of me has pushed me against my breaking point several times. And I’m ready to shatter if I don’t get something, anything, to calm my mind. Just knowing a name, any name, somehow feels as if it would relieve the tension building inside of me and threatening my sanity.
“Silas.” A single name. But one that will be burned into me forever. “I think he’s just a middle-man. But there you go,” he whispers.
“A middle-man. A middle-man to whom?”
Parker rolls his eyes. “You told me to tell you where my orders came from. They came from Silas.”
