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I pursed my lips. “He did smuggle me out of Tempeste.” I would give Tavion that, not that he deserved more. If his own neck hadn’t been on the line, I doubted I would have made it out of Torin’s throne room alive. No, I would be dead, the Fae King’s power restored, and they’d be back to square one.
“Which is why I didn’t hang him.” My father released me, his guard falling into position to escort him wherever he went after these audiences.
Maybe to wash all the blood off his hands, though I doubted the stains bothered him overmuch.
The moment he was gone I headed for the stables, only to find Lyrae lounging in the entryway, Crux nowhere in sight. Cleaning up the bodies probably took a good amount of his time.
“Lyrae.”
“Princess.”
I dodged around her, but she only shoved off the wall and fell into step beside me as I ducked into the drizzling rain. “I heard you have riding lessons with Commander Vayle.”
I could not afford her to follow me today. I had important things to discuss with Zor, warnings about Ember and Solok and the Oracle. Now I wished I would have headed to my rooms to change, but it was too late.
“I do. My second one.”
“Yes, I overheard you tell the king.” People took one look at her and scattered, leaving us a wide lane, straight down to the stables. My panic grew more intense the closer we got, especially when I spotted Zor, waiting with the mare beside the practice ring.
The storm rolled away to the west, a line of dark clouds that still flashed with lightning, but overhead the sky was clearing, the rain slowing down. My stomach clenched. Ember might already be here, and I had no idea what to expect.
“I don’t know what to think.” Lyrae’s melodic voice was mocking as we made our way down the wet street. “The general giving riding lessons. Though I suppose anything is possible if you’re a princess.”
“I suppose anything is, if you’re the daughter of the king.” Better Lyrae thought me a spoiled girl using her privilege to get her way, rather than a slave looking to upend the power balance of an entire kingdom.
Zor’s dark eyes narrowed as we approached, and I wondered what was going through his head. Probably the same thing that was going through mine.
We had to get rid of her and quick.
“Lyrae.” Zorander’s distaste for females was palpable, from how he growled her name to the way his gaze raked her up and down. “One would think the king’s protector would have better things to do than escort the princess to her lesson.”
“A lesson given by the king’s commander.”
Any other time I would find their power struggle fascinating, but Ember could arrive at any given moment, if the Oracle’s predication was accurate.
“And you are both wasting my time.” I said petulantly, putting my hands on my hips. “I only have two weeks to learn to ride. Unless you want my father to delay the war while you two bandy insults back and forth?”
Lyrae and Zor broke off their staring match long enough to glare at me before she shook her head. “No, my princess. I shall look forward to…riding into battle with you.” Her mouth curved up; her contempt clearly written in her cold smile. “Commander.”
“Lyrae.”
I followed Zor over to the mounting block, threw my leg over the saddle, let him go through his instructions, slowly and patiently until her black hair faded into the crowd. But she’d drawn attention. People were gathering to watch, gossiping as I carefully arranged my skirts.
“You found the iron band?” He murmured, pointing me down the narrow lane that ran along the stable. “Take her down to the end, and make the turn. Loosen up on the reins, Anaria, she can sense your nervousness, as can I.”
“I did. Thank you.” I whispered before tapping my heels against the mare’s sides. I trotted to the end of the lane and back, Zor watching with a critical eye, arms crossed, his face unreadable.
“I have every right to be nervous.” I stopped beside him, letting him adjust my hands, press in on the small of my back to straighten my posture. “We have a problem.”
“Raz found me last night. I know.” He kept his eyes down as he checked my tack. “Are you alright?”
“Yes.” I murmured, the crowd growing larger, my nerves shredding. “But I didn’t have time to tell Raziel everything.”
He pointed again and this time I urged the mare to a canter before bringing her back, posting, the way he’d taught me yesterday. “Very good.” His deep, commanding voice carried enough the stableboys scattered, hurrying back to their work.
“The Oracle showed me something yesterday.” I murmured, pretending to watch as he adjusted the length of my stirrups. “Solok turned Ember into…something terrible. He put a Soul Reaper into her. She’ll arrive this at the Keep by evening, according to the Oracle.” I drew a shaky breath. “Whatisa Soul Reaper?”
“A foul creature that devours souls.” He paused. “Like a wraith, but a Reaper requires a live host to survive.”
