The Mirror King (The Orphan Queen, #2)(67)
James caught a snowflake in his gloved hand and held it while it melted. “I’ve been there before, with my mother when I was a small child. I don’t remember it, though. I don’t remember much from when I was young.”
“Not everyone does.” I relaxed my grip on Ferguson’s reins. “And some people remember more than they want.”
“You’re thinking of the One-Night War.” His eyes were gentle and understanding, and that was almost worse than the blankness in Tobiah’s this morning. I didn’t want James’s pity.
“Do you remember the war?” I asked.
“Parts. I remember wanting to protect Tobiah when General Lien came for him. And I remember parts of the journey home.”
“You weren’t in Aecor that night.” I leaned forward as Ferguson climbed a steep hill. The rest of the convoy slowed on the tracks as the horses strained. Men pushed against the backs of the wagons, chanting to keep in step with one another.
“No,” James muttered. “I got hurt on the way there. The general left me to die, but the Indigo Army rescued me on the return trip.” A frown creased between his eyes. “I barely remember it.”
“The saints must be watching over you. Left for dead during the One-Night War, shot through the gut during the Inundation: you survived both.”
“I pray to all nine saints every morning and night. I suppose it’s working.” His smile was strained, though. “Your Highness, about the wedding—”
“Add the wedding to the list of things we’re not talking about.” I kicked Ferguson into a trot the rest of the way up the mountain. James kept up, but he didn’t push the conversation.
The convoy continued through lunch and the afternoon. I kept an eye on the soldiers and looked out for Prince Colin. But if he was riding, I couldn’t spot him among the indigo-jacketed men. More likely, he’d stayed inside his wagon. He wasn’t the type to suffer discomfort.
Snow came and went, but the air grew biting cold atop the mountains. By the time we passed the old palace—East Pass Watch—and I whispered good-bye to the place the Ospreys and I had shared for so long, a film of snow covered the ground. At the foot of the mountains, the wide piedmont stretched white before us. The wagons continued over the tracks, steadier on the even ground. By the time the sun set and the convoy halted for the night, snow spat from the sky, stinging.
“I can take care of the horses and fetch dinner,” James said.
“I don’t need you to do my work for me.” I dismounted Ferguson, relieved to stand on my own aching feet again, and motioned at his horse. “Just unsaddle Ferguson the Second—”
“His name is Bear.” James loosened the saddle girth and unclipped the bridle.
“But he’s a horse.”
“Whose name is Bear.” James lifted an eyebrow in my direction. “Do you have a problem with that?”
I shrugged and started unsaddling Ferguson. “He’s your horse.” We worked in silence. James put away the saddles and the rest of the tack, then laid out blankets to cover the horses for the night. While he went to find our dinner, I finished brushing the horses, then covered them both in heavy wool. The snow fell harder.
Just as I was about to climb into my wagon, Prince Colin walked up and leaned against the doorframe, making it impossible for me to go inside without brushing his shoulder. All levity from teasing James evaporated.
“Your Highness.” My whole body felt heavy and stiff.
“I’m glad we’re taking this journey together,” he said. “I’m sure it will give us more time to get to know each other and discuss how best to proceed with such an interesting situation. The long-lost heir to the vermilion throne. And yet, I am the Overlord of Aecor Territory.”
My hands fell beneath my cloak, and I touched the daggers at my hips. Even through my gloves, I could feel the smooth hilts, worn with use.
He mused, “What shall I do with you once we reach Sandcliff Castle?” If he noticed my weapon-ward motions, he didn’t show it.
“I know the castle well. I can think of several satisfactory arrangements.” Prince Colin and Patrick in the dungeon, to start with.
“I’m certain you can.” Prince Colin glanced downward, below my neckline. The crawling sensation fell over my skin, but it was only in my head. Not real. He hadn’t touched me, not ever. Not like the soldiers the morning I was arrested, and not like the guards trying to drag me to safety when Tobiah had been shot.
Swallowing hard, I resisted the urge to look around for James. He’d return soon.
My heart thumped as I took a measured step back from Prince Colin. Not a retreat. Something that could simply be shifting my weight.
He advanced a step, fully blocking the door. “You must feel terrible about what happened at my nephew’s wedding. That wraith creature, acting in your interests, but pulling you further from Tobiah. And even if he were to forgive you and take you as his wife instead, the people would never accept it. Meredith was well loved, like you will never be. That must be so frustrating for you.”
“This discussion is inappropriate. Meredith was killed only days ago. And she was my friend, too.” I gripped the daggers at my hips and struggled to keep my expression impassive. He would not see the despair that hung below every word. Every breath. Every night, I dreamed of the wraith boy striding down the aisle, grabbing her, snapping her neck. I dreamed of her body, still and broken. I dreamed of his voice, so like mine, as he said, “He is yours now, my queen.”