Roar (Stormheart #1)(39)
“I know what I’m asking of you,” Rora said. “If you cannot help, I will understand.” Nova wanted to say yes, to be so fearless, but she had been ruled by her anxiety for so long. Rora pushed the skyfire Stormheart into Nova’s palm, clasping both her hands around Nova’s fist. “Either way, please take this. It is my thank-you for your help, my apology for all the years I kept us apart, and my promise that things are going to be different when I return.”
Nova was the one fighting tears now. They gathered in her throat, and made it hard to speak. She almost told Rora then about her own secret. She wanted to so badly, but years of conditioning bound the words on her tongue. Instead, she took the Stormheart and said, “What happens when the soldiers begin scouring the countryside searching for you? How will you stay safe then?”
Rora reached a hand up to touch the scarf covering her hair.
“Maybe I need another favor.”
*
When the sky was still a deep purple, Rora found her horse, Honey, in the stable and presented her with an apple as a preemptive apology for everything that was about to change. The brown horse nuzzled into Rora’s hand, and then sniffed at the scarf wrapped around her head. She could probably smell the paste Nova had mixed to dye Rora’s hair a dark brown.
“Ssh, girl. We’re going on a little adventure. You like adventure, don’t you?”
Honey nipped at Rora’s fingers in a gesture she liked to think was a yes. She’d been too busy to ride this week, and she missed it. When Rora’s fingers were tangled in Honey’s coarse white mane, her body tucked low against the horse’s back, nothing could catch her. Not a castle guard, not her mother, not a storm in the sky, or the tempest of thoughts in her head. Now they would be escaping for far more than a few hours of peace.
She tacked up the horse with the oldest saddle and bridle she could find and set off for the palace gate. There she found one of the usual guards.
“Elmont, it’s me,” Rora said when she drew near.
She should have been exhausted from lack of sleep, but the quick beat of her heart was pumping adrenaline through her body. He didn’t release the hilt of the sword at his hip as he peered through the darkness.
“Princess?” She cringed at the title and the reminder it brought of everything she was about to leave behind. “Where are you going?”
“Just a ride to calm my nerves.”
Rora didn’t let her smile falter as she moved closer, within the glow of the lantern by his post. She couldn’t very well go prancing about with her newly changed hair. Not without everyone discovering the truth of what was about to happen. He looked at the scarf she wore, but did not comment.
He gave her a cheery smile. “Nervous? I wouldn’t worry too much. I’ve not seen anything yet that you can’t do. A wedding should be a piece of cake.”
His face had taken on its usual red hue at her arrival. She felt a sting of guilt over the share of the blame he would take for letting her out on this particular morning.
“Elmont, you always start my days off well.”
The crimson of his cheeks deepened, and he stood a little taller. “I am proud to be of service, Your Highness.”
Everything had a sense of finality to it this morning. Rora’s eyes lingered over every detail as Elmont opened the palace gates with his skyfire affinity. She wasn’t sure when she would return to Pavan, but she knew everything would be different when she did. She would be different. And in many ways, she already was.
Tears teased at the corners of Rora’s vision as she made her way through the quiet, sleepy city, and then in too short a time, she was past the outer walls. It was early enough that she didn’t yet see the hunters anywhere in the vicinity, so she took off in her usual direction, pushing Honey into a gallop. It didn’t take long to put her out of sight of the guards atop the city walls. She kept going, enjoying one last ride through the familiar wheat fields that would soon glisten gold in the sunlight. On any other morning ride, she and Honey might have meandered through the fields; Rora would have lain on her back, letting the stalks sway in the breeze around her. But this was not a normal morning.
Rora soon doubled back toward Pavan and stopped at an open field where wildflowers grew in colorful patches. She and Nova had agreed that this spot was the best setting for a fake kidnapping. She slid off Honey’s back and quickly changed out of her dress and into a pair of trousers and tunic. She tore a few strips off the hem of the dress before tucking it away into a saddlebag. Then she retrieved one of her knives and took a deep breath.
She hadn’t wanted to worry anyone more than necessary, but it was imperative that Nova’s story was believed. Otherwise Rora would put her friend and Queen Aphra in a great deal of trouble. So with a strange sense of calm, she sliced the knife along her palm, sprinkling some blood on the torn fabric and the road. She rode along the southern road, letting blood drip as she went. Every so often, she dropped a bloodied piece of cloth, as if she were trying to leave clues about the direction her kidnappers were taking her. If all went according to plan, she would be on her way east with the hunters by the time they started searching for her. Stormling kidnappings were not uncommon, and all the rumors of Rora’s incredible skill made her a more valuable target.
Finally, she bandaged her hand and doubled back the way she came. When she could see the palace dome in the gradually lightening sky, she unwound the scarf from her head. Her new hair was dark and shorter, cut to her shoulders. She kept reaching back for the rest, only to come up empty. Nova would leave the village for the wildflower field at dawn, and an hour later she would run back to the palace with the tale they had devised. It was too late to turn back, even if Rora wanted to.