Korrin
KORRIN
I reined in my villart, scanning the abandoned camp spread before us. Denna pulled up beside me, her face pale with exhaustion from our three-day journey.
"What happened here?" she asked, her blue eyes wide as she took in the scene.
I dismounted, my boots crunching on the scorched grass. "Some sort of beasts, most likely. Brigands would not have left so much."
Overturned carts and scattered belongings littered the area. A pot of stew still hung over a cold fire pit, its contents congealed and reeking. My stomach churned at the dark stains on the ground—blood, long since dried.
As I moved through the camp, my senses on high alert, I spotted movement near the tree line. Two villarts stood tethered to a fallen log, their scaled hides glistening in the weak sunlight. They snorted and pawed the ground as I approached.
"More mounts," I called back to Denna. "We'll take them with us."
She nodded, her golden curls catching the light, perched atop her villart like some exotic bird. Even after days on the road, covered in dust and sweat, she was breathtaking.
I shook off the distraction and focused on the task at hand. As I untethered the new villarts, I heard Denna dismount behind me.
"I'll check the tents," she said. "There might be supplies we can use."
I wanted to protest, to keep her close where I could protect her. But I bit back the words. She'd proven herself capable time and again on this journey.
"Be careful," I said instead. "Call out if you find anything... or anyone."
As Denna moved off, I led the new villarts back to our mounts. The beasts snorted and shifted, clearly uneasy. I murmured soothing words, running my hand along their scaled necks.
My eyes kept drifting to Denna as she moved through the camp. Her lithe form ducked in and out of tents, her movements graceful despite her injury. I admired her determination, her refusal to let pain slow her down.
A flash of memory hit me—Denna's soft skin under my fingers as I tended her wound, the way she'd gasped at my touch. Heat flooded my body, and I turned away, focusing on securing our new mounts.
"!" Denna's voice rang out, tinged with excitement. "I found something!"
I jogged over to where she stood, peering into a half-collapsed tent. "What is it?"
Denna emerged from the tent, cradling a strange object in her arms. As she stepped into the light, I saw it was a musical instrument, its body carved from pale wood, shaped like a teardrop with delicate patterns etched along its surface. A long, curved neck extended from the wider end, strung with delicate silver wires.
"A gyrelorn," I breathed, recognizing the rare instrument. "I haven't seen one of these since I was a boy."
Denna's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "What does it sound like?"
I gently took the gyrelorn from her hands, feeling its familiar weight. My fingers found their place on the strings, muscle memory kicking in despite the years. I plucked a simple melody, the sweet notes ringing out clear and pure in the desolate camp.
Denna's face lit up with wonder. "It's beautiful," she whispered.
I smiled, a warmth spreading through my chest at her joy. "I could teach you to play, if you'd like. Once we're somewhere safer."
How did she always do this to me? She had a way of drawing out my softer side, something I both craved and feared.
"We should move on soon," I said, clearing my throat. "I don't like the feel of this place."
Denna nodded, her expression growing serious. "Do you think the beasts might come back?"
"It's possible. Best not to linger."
As we mounted up, Denna winced, her hand going to her injured side. Concern flooded through me, warring with the ever-present desire her proximity ignited.
"How's the wound?" I asked, my voice gruffer than I intended.
"I'll manage," she replied, flashing me a brave smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
I wanted to pull her close, to kiss away the pain etched on her face. Instead, I nodded curtly and turned my attention to the road ahead.
"It's not far to the city," I told her. "I can just make out the jungle highlands."
Denna glanced down at her tattered gown, the fabric clinging to her skin in the humid air. "I would really like a nicer dress before we enter the city. No need to show my fellow former temple maidens how difficult my journey was."
My smile widened, a mischievous glint in my eyes. "I would see you in pretty clothes." I leaned in closer, my breath warm against her ear. "And more importantly, pretty underthings."
Heat rushed to Denna's cheeks, and she ducked her head to hide her flushed face. The sight of her bashfulness stirred something within me.
"Could we sell one of the villarts?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
"Of course," I replied, understanding her concern about funds. "It would be better to have a purse of coins than paying to stable so many beasts. The Wandering Nation is known for its mount traders."
As we approached the outskirts of Zashi, I pulled a length of fabric from my saddlebag. "Here," I said, handing it to Denna. "Cover your face and hair. We can't risk anyone recognizing you as human."
Denna nodded, wrapping the cloth around her head and face until only her eyes were visible. A snarl rumbled through me, missing already her golden curls and delicate features.
The city sprawled before us, a chaotic mix of tents, wooden structures, and stone buildings. The air filled with a cacophony of sounds—merchants hawking their wares, animals braying, and the constant hum of conversation.
"There," I pointed to a cluster of pens near the city's edge. "We can sell the extra villarts there."
We dismounted and led our beasts towards the pens. A grizzled trader eyed us as we approached.
"Fine mounts you have there," he grumbled, running a hand along one villart's scales.
I nodded. "We're looking to sell these two."
The trader circled the beasts, his eyes narrowed. "I'll give you fifty gold pieces for the pair."
I scoffed. "These are prime specimens. One hundred and twenty, at least."
"Seventy-five," the trader countered.
"One hundred," I said firmly, crossing my arms.
The trader's eyes darted between me and the villarts. Finally, he sighed. "Ninety, and not a coin more."
I pretended to consider for a moment, then nodded. "Deal."
As the trader counted out the coins, I caught Denna's eye. Even with most of her face covered, I saw the smile in her gaze. Pride swelled in my chest—I'd impressed her with my bargaining skills.
How did it get to the point where every one of her smiles was worth more than the gold that now weighed my purse?
With our purse considerably heavier, we wound our way into the heart of the marketplace. Denna's eyes darted from stall to stall, taking in the vibrant fabrics and glittering jewelry on display.
"Look," she whispered, tugging on my sleeve. "Those women are selling used clothing."
I followed her gaze to a booth manned by two old women. Their blue-green hair was intricately braided, and their wrinkled skin shimmered in the sunlight.
As we approached, the women's eyes widened. One leaned in close to the other, whispering urgently.
"Welcome," the taller woman said, her gaze fixed on Denna. "We have many fine dresses for sale. Perhaps something for your... companion?"
I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. "Yes, we're looking for something suitable for the city."
The shorter woman stepped forward, her eyes bright with curiosity. "Forgive me, but... are you a Frostling?"
Denna stiffened beside me. I placed a hand on her arm, ready to whisk her away if necessary.
"I... yes," Denna replied hesitantly. "How did you know?"
The women exchanged excited glances. "Everyone knows that Prince Drax's mate is a Frostling from the forbidden lands," the taller one exclaimed.
Denna's eyes widened. "Do you mean Mila?"
The shorter woman shook her head. "No, Lady Lita. Though, we've heard that name before. Isn't that the name of the companion to Lord Ashur?"
I nodded, memories of my old friend flooding back. "I'm not surprised. When I last saw them, Ashur seemed devoted to Mila."
The women chattered excitedly, sharing snippets of gossip about the royal couples. I tuned them out, focusing instead on Denna's reaction. Her eyes were distant, lost in thought.
"These Frostlings," the taller woman said, drawing my attention back to the conversation. "They're causing quite a stir in the castle. Some say they're dangerous, others claim they're a blessing from the gods."
I tensed, ready to defend Denna if necessary. But the women's expressions remained curious, not hostile.
"Well," I said, clearing my throat. "About those dresses..."
The shorter woman clapped her hands. "Of course! We have just the thing for a Frostling beauty."
As they bustled about, pulling out various garments, I leaned close to Denna. "Are you all right?" I murmured.
She nodded, her eyes still with surprise. "How do we even get into the castle?"
The women returned with an armful of dresses, each more colorful than the last.
Denna's eyes lit up as she ran her fingers over a pale blue dress. "This one," she finally decided.
The shorter woman nodded approvingly. "Excellent choice. Come, let's get you changed."
As Denna disappeared behind a curtain with the women, I found myself alone with my thoughts. The bustling marketplace faded into the background as I pondered our next move.
Getting into the castle seemed an impossible task. The Wandering Nation and Zashi had a tenuous relationship at best. My mind raced through potential solutions, each one more farfetched than the last.
The curtain rustled, pulling me from my brooding thoughts. I looked up, and the world around me ceased to exist.
There was only Denna. The dress was simple, yes, but on her, it was nothing short of magnificent. The pale blue fabric flowed around her like water, accentuating every curve. It hugged her waist before flaring out at her hips, the skirt brushing the ground with each step.
The neckline dipped just low enough to be tantalizing without being scandalous, revealing the smooth expanse of her collarbone. The sleeves clung to her arms before billowing out at the elbows, giving her an almost ethereal appearance.
But it was her face that truly captured me. The dress brought out the blue in her eyes, making them sparkle like sapphires. Her golden curls, freed from their earlier confinement, tumbled over her shoulders in soft waves.
A smile played at the corners of her lips as she met my gaze. "Well?" she asked, giving a small twirl. "What do you think?"
No words came out. How could I possibly describe the vision before me? How could I tell her that she outshone the sun itself?
"You look..." I trailed off, searching for the right words. Beautiful seemed too common, radiant too trite. In the end, I settled for honesty. "I've never seen anything like you."
A blush crept up her cheeks, captivating me with the way it spread across her skin. Every freckle, every tiny imperfection only added to her allure.
"Is it suitable for the city?" she asked, smoothing down the fabric of her skirt.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Suitable didn't begin to cover it. She would turn heads wherever we went—a fact that both thrilled and terrified me.
The taller woman cleared her throat, breaking the spell. "You'll need shoes to match," she said, producing a pair of delicate slippers.
As Denna sat to try them on, I forced myself to look away. We still had a mission to complete, a goal to achieve. I couldn't afford to be distracted, no matter how tempting the distraction might be.
I scanned the nearby stalls, my eyes landing on a merchant selling cloaks. With a nod to Denna, I strode over and selected a deep blue hooded cloak that would complement her dress.
"This should help keep you inconspicuous," I murmured, draping it over her shoulders. The fabric settled around her, obscuring her golden hair and pale skin. I gently pulled the hood forward, framing her face in shadow.
My fingers lingered on the clasp at her throat, our eyes meeting in a charged silence. With reluctance, I stepped back, assessing the effect. "Perfect," I said softly. "Now we're ready to move on."
And yet, as we prepared to leave the stall, I found my eyes drawn back to her again and again. The way she moved in the dress, the gentle sway of her hips, the curve of her neck as she turned to thank the women—it was all I could do to keep my hands to myself.
We stepped back into the crowded marketplace, and a surge of protectiveness washed over me. The dress may have helped Denna blend in with the Shakai women, but to my eyes, she stood out like a beacon.
"Stay close," I murmured, placing a hand on the small of her back. The warmth of her skin seeped through the fabric, sending a jolt through my system.
Denna leaned into my touch, her eyes meeting mine. "Always," she replied, her voice low and filled with promise.