Chapter Fifteen

Being a woman in this realm, I've learned to play the part of a docile queen well. It would seem it's not a believable enough ruse. Iron shackles are clamped around my wrists the moment I'm hoisted onto a temperamental midnight steed.

"Is this how your mighty king treats his prisoners?" I sneer as Goldie ties a knot into the rope that encircles my middle to the horn of the horse's saddle.

Although I'm certain all of the forest can hear me, he doesn't spare me a glance as he tugs on the knot. The dismissal adds to my growing irritation. The iron shackles that sit snug around my wrists have already begun to cut into my skin. While I understand the shackles are to ensure my powers are contained, the rope is unnecessary.

"I'm not a wild beast in need of taming," I hiss as he pulls the knot tighter.

I shoot him a withering glare when he lifts his head and cocks a brow. My gaze is firm and unyielding as I lift my chin in challenge. Leaves crunch beneath my mount's hooves, swallowing the thick silence that stretches over the morning air. After a long moment, he drops my gaze and shakes his head before turning to mount his horse.

I curse under my breath and lurch forward when Goldie leans over to gather my mount's reins. I refuse to further shame myself by asking where we're going. The blood that coats the leaves on the forest floor speaks of Felix's plans well enough. Men fought and died for his obsession with me. I'm each of his intrusive thoughts, the vivid images that create his delusions.

Despite the distrusting glances the enemy soldiers cast in my direction, I'm left undisturbed. Goldie's responses to the few questions I ask are in the form of short, irritated grunts. Although the woman among the party rides to the right of me, I have little interest in speaking to someone who mocks me.

My thoughts wander the farther we travel along the edge of Greenwrath Forest. Aside from the occasional chirp of a songbird and trickle of a stream, the air is as quiet as it was before the battle began. A battle that was a well-laid trap by the King of Risian.

In hindsight, I realize that the discrepancy in the number of soldiers reported was intentional. While I have no inclination as to where Felix and the rest of his forces are, nefarious thoughts gnaw in the back of my mind. Judging by the road we travel, I imagine I'll find out soon enough.

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I'll go mad if I spend another minute on this horse.

My muscles are long past the point of stiffness and my mouth tastes like cotton. Judging how the sun crests high into the sky, I know we've been traveling for several hours. The skin of my face is painful to the touch and sweat beads upon my brow beneath the sun's unrelenting rays.

Although I've attempted to take in as much of the landscape as possible should the opportunity to escape arise, it's of little use. The brown tree trunks to our left lack any distinguishing markings. My vision becomes a haze when I look deeper into the forest, as all the waxy, emerald leaves are identical.

I refuse to admit defeat, but it would be foolish to run. Pain wracks my bones with each step my mount takes. Paired with the exhaustion that is a consequence of using my powers, I wouldn't be able to make it far. I have no water or knowledge to scavenge the forest for food.

Even if by the luck of the stars I managed to break away from the soldiers who tightly circle around, there's little chance I'll be able to navigate the path back to Minalis. I have no map or compass. While I know the road we travel leads east to Risian, returning to my kingdom would be more complex than turning and making west. The road that winds through the Carborough Pass is treacherous.

To put it plainly, I lack the skills to survive the wilderness on my own.

Once we pass through another stretch of forest that curves around jade, rolling hills, I turn to Goldie and demand to relieve myself. The uncomfortable pressure in my bladder aside, I need to be off this horse and as far away from this cursed forest. The thick, dense foliage has drawn all manners of creatures to us. There's no surface of my smooth, uncovered skin that isn't littered with welts.

I smile sweetly when Golden Lock's brows draw together. "You can even watch, if you'd like."

His eyes narrow upon me before he sighs and twists around. I angle my head as he digs through the leather satchel slung across his mounts back and pulls out what looks to be a hollow drinking horn. Although I've never had a good reason to use one, I know soldiers often use them to collect water when goblets or flasks are unavailable.

My brows shoot up in surprise when he brings the opening of the smallest end to his lips and a low pitch sound cuts through the air. The soldiers glance over their shoulders at once with the call. The varying expressions of concern that smatters across their faces fades when Goldie turns his head to the left and nods

The tension in my shoulders dissipates when Goldie guides our mounts from the forest. Although I've never passed through these parts before, I recognize the flat expanse of land as the Tempest Wasteland.

If the books I read as a girl are to be believed, this vast expanse of land has earned its name. The weather here is often described as temperamental, at best. Historians claim that snows reaching twenty feet deep have fallen during the spring equinox. The winds are said to be cold and brutal, gusting over the treetops without warning. Given the dry, brittle earth, no crops can thrive here.

I hold my hands out in front of me as Goldie dismounts and loosens the shackles around my wrists. Though I'd prefer for them to be removed, I make no move to protest when the pressure soothes. My lips turn downward as I spy the red streak that runs from my wrists to my palms.

My head snaps upward when a soldier approaches out of the corner of my eye. Given his smooth jaw and boyish features, he's no seasoned warrior. Thick, red curls brush his forehead and nearly fall into his eyes. Aside from his rigid posture, fear churns in the depths of his bright blue irises.

"I'm to assist you." he murmurs. He drops his gaze as he approaches and shuffles his weight between his feet.

I roll my eyes. "Very well, get on with it then."

Lifting his head, he reaches up to place his hands on my waist. I curse when my numb legs meet the ground and my knees nearly buckle. Out of instinct, the boy places a hand on my shoulder to steady me. He takes a large step back when I lift my head and shoot him a withering glare. I just need a moment to regain my bearings.

My lips curl into a triumphant smirk when I take a small step and the feeling begins to return to my legs. With a nervous glance in my direction, I turn heel and make for the thick brush in the distance.

I smirk when I glance out of the corner of my eye and find that the near silent footsteps beside me belong to Goldie. "Decide to take me up on my offer?"

"No." he deadpans, placing his hand on the longsword at his side and scanning the woods ahead.

He stops once we reach a dense thicket. "Here is far enough," his eyes narrow upon me. "Don't wander."

"I wouldn't dare." I peer up at him through thick lashes. Although he has no need to worry about that, I keep that piece of knowledge to myself. A frown tugs at the corner of his lips before he turns and gives me his back.

The sun has began it's descent by the time Goldie leads us out of the forest, bathing the earth in rich shades of amber. Men carry heavy canvases of leather and wool on their shoulders, while the sole woman among the group crouches over a pile of sticks and leaves. She strikes a block of steel with a flint several times before embers of orange spark to life.

"We're going to make camp here?"

Despite my incredulous tone, Goldie keeps his gaze ahead. "Yes."

"And am I to have my own tent?"

He grunts in lieu of response.

"And where will you be sleeping?" I question lightly, deciding on a different approach.

If I'm to remain a prisoner, there's no harm in finding pleasure with another.

I frown when his lips press together to form a thin line. The language of his body speaks a cadence of its own. His arms are firm at his side, each long stride careful and measured. The skin around his eyes tightens and slight tick to his jaw are telling of his displeasure.

While I know the chances of him accepting my advances are slim, I at least expected a snide remark. I'm confident I'll be able to sway him at some point during the night though, despite the King he serves.

Weaving our way through the camp, dusk's low light isn't kind to the faces of the soldiers who travel among our party. Faint tinges of raised, pink skin mar the face of one man who ogles at me. The newly healed scar cuts across the apple of his cheek and stretches to the top of his ear. He finds renewed interest in staking a tent into the ground when I glower at him.

To my surprise, there seems to be both fae and human alike among the group. While some have pointed ears that speak to their pure blood, others have ears similar to my own rounded ends.

Dirt and the stars know what else smears across the tunic of one human man as he removes his breastplate. My nose wrinkles when his putrid scent reaches my nose as we pass. His fine, sand colored hair is in simple plait that reaches the middle of his back.

Although both races make up the population of most kingdoms, it's quite interesting that the Risian King has included humans among his ranks. I hold no ill will towards humans, to be sure. The same blood courses through my veins thanks to my mother. My surprise in their places here is due to the fact that humans aren't known for their speed or agility.

In truth though, I believe the mirror of my soul would allow an army of dead men to march to war if it meant he could grasp all that's evaded him the past five centuries. Thanks to the stars, however, he succeeded in his conquest with warm bodies all the same. It's they who sit high in the sky that allowed such darkness to fall upon me.

While they have a twisted sense of humor, I'll be none more than ash and bone before I allow myself to be entangled into the trellis of thorns and vines they lie before me.