28. Reina

Chapter twenty-eight

Reina

T he last day of my bleed is easiest. I have energy and my body isn't completely drained when we leave camp. Jasper's made friends with two of the merchants traveling all the way to Hammon with us, Anthony and Gizelle. She's the one who gave me the sanitary pad for my knickers. Honestly, I'm glad he's making friends. He's been so opposed to talking to my kind, so bent on believing we're all evil. I hope he sees the goodness in them.

The road splits midday, and we lose another three-fourths of the company, leaving eight other travelers with us. There are no more guards, and no more mercenaries protecting us. But when we make camp for the evening, we all work together.

Gizelle and I venture into the trees and find the river that the road follows.

"So, you gave up your life to become a restaurateur, but you don't know how to cook?" Gizelle asks suddenly.

"What?"

She laughs. "You talk like you've seen someone cook but never done it yourself."

"I most certainly have."

Not.

Unless I can count a fish over a fire pit. Once…

"You're a high-born, but you love Geoff. Following him to the ends of Gaien to start a new life? Don't tell me otherwise," she says in a stern voice like it's fact.

I have to keep up the ruse, keep us protected.

"You're right. I would follow him to the end of Gaien, and then threaten Nol'Ther if she took him from me."

Gizelle giggles. "I knew you were a fighter, too. That spirit in your eyes. You're not just some lady, are you? You're important."

This is getting too close to the truth. "I'm no one."

She hums, adjusting the yoke on her shoulders. "I know who you are, but you don't need to fear me. I don't care if you abdicated and ran."

My heart picks up speed and my stomach squeezes with nausea as a flash of blood and fire rolls through my mind.

No. I don't want to kill her, or her husband. Even if they know who I am.

"You can't speak of this," I whisper. "Please."

Gizelle must've seen the horrible thoughts behind my eyes. "I promise I'm not a threat, and Anthony doesn't even know."

"If it was this easy for you to figure it out, how easy will it be for the next person?" I ask.

"Maybe stop lettin' him call you princess , that'll help," she says with a wink. "Camp's not big, and sound does travel."

Ah…great. What an idiot.

"In any case, You ran for a good reason. The north is fucked—'scuse me, it's in shambles."

I laugh. "No, you're right. It's fucked."

We both laugh, the water sloshing in our buckets as we make our way back to camp. When we quiet, my mind wanders.

My kingdom is fucked, but I'll be back soon with help. Jasper will help me. His people are my people, and mine are his. We're to be wed, and he…he cares for me.

And I care for him.

"What are you thinking?" Gizelle breaks the silence.

"The north will get what it needs soon."

She sighs. "Good. Maybe one day we can go home."

"Tell me about it?"

"It was a very nice little place inside the wall that I took over from my brother when I was sixteen. We sold cloaks, gloves, hats, and scarves. Then the queen changed the trade laws with Wolfsheim, and suddenly everyone was getting access to the fine materials we'd sourced through a family friend. But we were able to keep competitive prices, until our friends went down at sea."

"I'm so sorry," I say, knowing how treacherous the ocean can be.

"They were experienced sailors, and both lords, powerful magi. They'd challenged the queen too many times to be ignored."

"You suspect foul play?"

She nods. "They left behind a son, just a boy. He tried to help keep our shop afloat, but competing with the other merchants close to the queen was impossible. We moved our shop to the Underbelly, but within a month we had one of the so-called lords knocking on our door for dues. Said if we didn't pay, his men would burn our wares. We asked what we were paying for, and they said protection.

"Stupidly, I said, ‘Will you be protectin' us from yourselves, then?'" She groans and shakes her head. "That was the end of our cloak and hat business."

"Well, you'll be happy to know that lord is likely dead, unless it was the Bloodletter, or the Spider Lord," I say.

"Never heard of either of them," she says. "His name was Klein—just Klein. As if he was so notorious he didn't need another name. He and his gang of red-bandana-wearing bullies. How do you know he's dead?"

"The Bloodletter and the Spider Lord strung up the other lords on their wedding day and cut them to ribbons in front of their family—so says the Upper Kingdom gossip," I say.

She laughs darkly, her face scrunched in disgust. "Sounds lovely."

"It's quite a statement to make. I'm sure the queen is watching them closely."

We reach the center of camp and get the fire ready.

"Do you know anything about these remaining lords? Would it be safe for us?" Gizelle asks as we shred coconut husk.

"The Bloodletter came about a few years ago, taking territory from Klein. The Spider's been around since I was young, maybe ten, I think. The rumors are that they're both vicious, but their followers adore them, not fear them."

"Ah, well, better than Klein, it seems. We left 'bout ten years ago. Been making our keep ferrying spices for the Illya Trading Company."

"Do you like it?"

She shrugs. "We've got a decent amount saved up for a place of our own when things settle down back home. Fynren's always been the place where our hearts live. The mountains, the cliffs. It's majestic."

Nostalgia washes through me at her words. I didn't realize I could feel homesick for a place I hated, but it wasn't hate for the land, or the people, just the palace and its inhabitants.

"It'll be safe again sooner than you think," I say.

She smiles and nods. "I hope so, Amaya."

The fire burns hot enough, and we set the water over it. I could flash boil it with my power, but I don't want to reveal myself—even if Gizelle does know who I am. Instead, I sit and wait, smelling the burning coconut husk and letting my mind wander some more.

There's so much time to think out here on the road. Think about what comes next, how I'll help Jasper…

Anxiety surges through my veins as I realize I'm not ready to fight yet. I'm still too weak, too untrained. We still have weeks left, and I need to fix that.

I fill up our skeins and wave farewell to Gizelle, finding Jasper next to our tent. "Will you help me with something?"

His face shifts from curious to devious in an instant. "I'll help you with anything."

"Ugh, no, Jasper. I want to train, but not just my magic. I'm sure you saw on the island when I escaped that those four men had me at their mercy easily."

His jaw flexes and his eyes go opal with magic.

"Calm down. They're dead so there's no reason to get worked up," I say, loving the way he gets worked up. "But I can't just rely on burning my enemies to cinders. I need to be able to win in a fistfight if my magic is drained."

He bobs his head. "You're right. Let's go."

He grabs my hand and I stumble to follow him. The urgency in his movements has unnecessary heat flooding my system. We move through the underbrush into the forest and reach the river where Gizelle and I filled up our buckets.

He releases my hand and turns to me. "What do you know?"

My mouth gapes and I shrug. "Nothing."

Jasper surges forward and grabs my shoulders. I struggle against him, but I'm lost in the movement of his arms and legs. He plants his foot behind me then pushes me backward, and there's nothing I can do to stop the fall.

I yelp as he jerks me to a stop with a smile. "Guess my Man feet aren't so unwieldy after all."

I huff. "Yes, preen and puff. You're so strong you can push over a woman half your size."

"I'm not that much bigger than you," he says, towering over me a good seven inches at least. He chuckles when I raise a skeptical eyebrow. "All right, maybe I am. But it makes me more capable of protecting you. Teaching you," he says, his face softening.

I don't know what to do with this softness, his tender care and his desire to protect.

"Will you show me what you just did?" I ask, pushing away to get some distance.

"Hold the shoulders," he says, planting my hands on his tunic. "Grab hard, twist to the side, and then you're going to step forward and around my leg."

I twist him left and step forward.

"Good, now push me over your leg," he says.

I push on him and, despite being much stronger than me, he gives. He bends over my leg and then stops, holding himself up by muscle alone. It's insane. I've never noticed how toned he is. His biceps bulge in his loose cotton shirt. The undone buttons reveal pectorals that rival any champion's. Gods, he really is massive.

Jasper smirks as he comes upright. "Well, don't keep it all to yourself. What's going through your head?"

I grab the shoulders of his shirt and step forward, pushing him in one fluid movement. He actually goes down this time and I think it was from sheer surprise. I laugh at the audacity of a tiny thing like me putting a massive creature like Jasper on the ground.

He tuts and rolls up to stand. "You caught me off guard. Good. Now do it while I'm paying attention."

I grab him again, but before I can even think about stepping forward, his hands come down against mine in a hard chopping motion that makes me retract on instinct. I shake my hands out and glare at him.

"You won't always get the jump on your opponent, and they won't always be helpless," he says, and I suppose he's right.

But I still hate him for hurting my arms.

He lunges and I slap at his grabbing hands, but he just gets hold of my wrists. I kick his shins and try to knee him in the groin, but he's already pulled me too close. My knee hits his thigh and he shoves his legs between mine as he holds my hands overhead in one of his. He grips my chin and tilts my face up to his as he bends down.

He's smiling. The smug prick. "You're pretty good for a woman."

For a woman.

Fuck him.

I don't even know what I'm doing as I thrust my face forward, I just know I want to hurt him. My forehead hits his nose with a crunch, and he shouts in pain. I stomp on his foot and pull on my arms, finally getting free of him. He stumbles back, cradling his face. Blood slips between his fingers and I lurch forward to help him.

"Oh, no," he says, giving me a bloody grin. "No apologies for what you've done now. It's on. We're doing this."

Jasper surges forward and I raise my arms in defense, but it's useless. He shoves aside my paltry attempt and grabs me by the throat. He steps into my space and pulls me up to his bloody face.

"You can't possibly think I'll give you a kiss like this," I say, struggling against his hold.

"Were you thinking about giving me a kiss?" he asks.

I growl and thrash in his hold. It only gets me deeper under his control. He whirls me around somehow and then we're falling. Before I faceplant into the ground, Jasper catches us, holding us both up with one arm. Slowly, he lowers us down until I'm pinned beneath him in the dewy grass.

"What about now?" he asks, the hand on my throat both soft and demanding. Something about the way he touches me makes my body come alive in ways it never has.

I hate it.

I throw my elbow back but barely hit him. He flattens me against the ground, preventing all movement. The pressure of his body feels both terrifying and wonderful. I thrash and writhe, but it gets me nowhere. A frustrated cry escapes my lips as I give one last attempt at bucking him off, but I fail.

He chuckles against my ear. "So fiery. I love it."

Love. He uses that word a lot with me.

Does he mean it?

Ugh, I don't care.

I keep thrashing despite my dwindling strength.

"When you're stuck like this," he finally says, breaking our tension, "reach your hand around and grab their groin. Squeeze until they let go."

"What if it's a girl?" I say pushing and wiggling until my hand is between us.

"You have a sensitive little pearl. Your clit ." His words burn a path down my spine. "Pinch that as hard as you can."

I wiggle again and get my hand between us until I'm cupping his full, hard length. "And then what?"

"Squeeze," he says seductively.

I clamp my fist around his cock and he groans.

"Harder."

So I do. I tighten my fist until I fear I might break something.

"Harder," he growls. "You want to hurt them."

"But I don't want to hurt you," I say.

"You don't?"

There's an electrifying tension between us for a heartbeat, and then he draws away all at once.

"Sparring is over. Let's work on your magic."

I roll over and look at him. "Are you sure?"

He looks down at me with pained desire, wiping blood from his upper lip. "Yes."

I huff. "Fine. How did you even learn to fight like that, anyway?"

He covers his nose with his palm and opal magic corrects the damage I did. "On the streets."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't meet Meianha right away. Even after, running her errands got me in trouble sometimes."

I touch his arm softly. "I'm sorry that happened to you."

"It was easy for them to hate me. I didn't speak the language well and I didn't look like them. I was different."

"That's not an excuse. People should be better than that, and I know we can be with the right guidance."

He chuffs, pushing some of my hair behind my ear. I lean into his hand before he smirks. "Maybe you're right."

"Now, what do you want to accomplish with your magic?" he asks, his hand still lingering on my face.

"I would love to fly," I say off the cuff.

He laughs. "I bet you could. It would take a lot of control, and muscles, but I've seen the way you can release your magic and I think you can do it."

Something swells in my chest. Hope? Affection? Both?

"Will you really help me?"

"Of course." He rubs a thumb across my cheek. "What else is a husband for?"