She gathers a length of leather and fur from the chest at the end of the bed and holds it up. “Are you too warm? You can wait to add the coat once you’ve crossed through the woods.”
That wasn’t what I meant at all. I swallow. Until this moment, Princess Harper was something to consider in theory.
Right now, Princess Harper is looking back at me from the mirror.
A hard knock sounds at the door. “My lady, the horses have been brought to the courtyard.”
Grey. He’s been running errands for Rhen, so I haven’t seen him since we confronted Lilith in the arena.
Freya moves to the door and pulls it open. “The princess is ready.”
He steps into the room, and I feel the instant his gaze stops on me. His eyes give away nothing.
Some dynamic has shifted between us. I’m not sure if it has to do with the way he held me back while Lilith was torturing Rhen—or the way I stole his knife to stop her myself. Either way, it feels prickly and I don’t like it.
I smooth my hands along the bodice. “Is it good enough?”
“Good enough?” His expression doesn’t change. “You have me wishing I had more guardsmen.” He glances at Freya. “The princess needs a weapon. Fetch a belt with a dagger. There are several in the chest.”
“Yes, Commander.” She scurries into the closet.
I frown. “A dagger?”
“We should give people a reason to think twice before approaching you.”
That’s both awesome and terrifying.
Freya returns with a stretch of dark leather, along with a simple dagger. A few jeweled flowers decorate the hilt, matched by a stitched vine of blue flowers on the sheath. Just as she hands it to me, the baby begins crying from the next room.
She looks apologetically at me. “My lady—”
“Go,” I say. “It’s fine.”
I begin wrapping the straps around my waist, but there’s just too much length, and no buckle.
I stop and look at Grey. “You know I have no idea what I’m doing with this. Would you help me?”
He nods and puts out a hand for the belt, then moves close to slide the leather around my waist, wrapping it double. His deft fingers thread the leather into a knot that lies flat at my hip, putting the light weight of the dagger along my upper thigh.
The effort puts him close enough for us to share breath, but his movements are quick and efficient. He doesn’t quite meet my eyes.
“Thanks,” I say softly.
“Yes, my lady.” He pauses. “I have been ordered to stay at your side today. Jamison will accompany His Highness.”
Grey doesn’t sound like he approves of that arrangement, but I can’t tell which half bothers him more: guarding me, or not guarding Rhen. Either way, I don’t like this hum of tension between us.
“Are you mad I stole your knife?” I say quietly.
“You are welcome to every weapon I carry.” His voice is level. “I showed you how to throw knives because you asked. Not because I expected you to use them.”
“I’m glad you showed me,” I say. “I got her to stop.”
His eyes flick to my cheek. “At what cost?”
Warmth heats my face. “Grey—what she was doing to him … it was awful. No one deserves that.” My voice tightens, some mixture of anger and fear and regret. “Rhen told me he ordered you not to stop her, but I don’t know how you can do that. I’d do it again, and I will if I have to. I can take a scar.”
“And if she cuts your throat?”
I set my jaw. “I’m not apologizing for what I did.”
“I seek no apology. I understand your motives.”
“Then what do you seek?”
“Your trust.”
I don’t have an answer for that.
He speaks into my silence and his voice is just as hard as mine is. “His Highness would like to arrive at Silvermoon by mid-morning, my lady.”
My mood has soured, and I feel completely off balance. I grab the jacket and wish I could storm out of the room with an even step, though the boots Freya found in the closet are better than what I wore before. The dress sways as I walk down the empty hallway, my booted heels clicking on the marble unevenly.
Grey follows beside me, but slightly behind. He moves like a ghost.
Before we reach the staircase, I can’t take it anymore. I round on him.
“Look. I do trust you. I trusted you before I trusted Rhen. You know that.”
His eyes give nothing away. “You trust me not to harm you.”
“Yes.” Obviously.
“Do you trust me to keep you safe?”
I suck in a breath—then hesitate.
“That is the trust I mean,” Grey says, and finally there is anger in his tone. “You are the Princess of Disi,” he says, “and as you are to ally with His Highness, I will obey your order.”
“But that’s different,” I say. “It’s not real.”
“It is real enough here in Emberfall,” he says. “My obligation—indeed the very oath I swore—is to lay down my life in favor of his. And now, in favor of yours, my lady.”
“But not with Lilith! How could you stand there and watch that, Grey? How could you?”
“Do you truly think it costs me nothing?” His voice is sharp, but torment sparks in his eyes. “I have seen her actions countless times. And to a much greater extent.”
“I would try to stop her every time.” To my surprise, emotion builds in my chest. “Every time, Grey. I wouldn’t care what he ordered me to do. I wouldn’t care what she did to me. He told me what she’s done to you—I’m not even sure that would be enough to stop me.”
“If His Highness allowed it, I would take her provocation by tenfold. I would fight her until I had no breath left to breathe.” His voice turns almost lethal, and in the dim light of the hallway, Grey’s eyes seem to darken. “My duty is to bleed so he does not. And now,” he says, “my duty is to bleed so you do not.”
Those words are chilling. I swallow.
“What you have agreed to do is larger than you think. Your life is no longer yours to sacrifice.”
“I know,” I whisper.
“You do not know.” He’s genuinely angry now. “Or you would not have risked your life so carelessly, as if your death carries no consequences. You would not—”
“Commander.” Rhen’s voice, by the stairs. I jump.
His tone isn’t sharp, but Grey snaps to attention. His expression evens out so quickly that you’d never know we were having a heated discussion.
I don’t know how much Rhen heard, but as he approaches, I’m guessing it was a lot. Or at least enough.
Shame has formed a lump in my chest—especially because I know he’s going to lay into Grey, or order him to apologize to me, or something I won’t be able to take.
“Wait,” I say to Rhen. My voice is half-broken, and I’m a breath away from crying. I look up at Grey. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t understand. I’m sorry.”
He lets out a breath and glances away. His voice is regretful. “A princess should not apologize to a guardsman.”
“I’m Harper,” I say to him. “And I’m apologizing to you.”
He hesitates, then nods. “As you say.”
Tension still wavers in this space between us. I wish we’d had five more minutes to play this out to the end.
“Is all well?” says Rhen.
“Yes.” I inhale and turn back to face him—and all that breath leaves me in a rush.
A moment ago, I was embroiled in the argument with Grey. Now I’m really looking at Rhen, and it’s like he’s stepped out of a fairy tale. He wears no armor, but instead a jacket of blue-and-black brocade with a high collar. From what I can glimpse at his neck, it seems to be lined with the same fur as the jacket hanging over my arm. Slender stretches of silver are twisted in an intricate design along his collar, matched by similar metalwork on his black leather gauntlets and the hilt of his sword. Subtle, but there’s no question he’s the prince.
Or maybe that’s just Rhen himself. He could stand there in a potato sack and he’d probably look like royalty.
“All is well,” I finish, but then I realize he’s staring at me, too.
A blush crawls up my cheeks and I smooth down my skirts. “Do I look like a princess?”
He steps forward and takes my hand. I think he’s going to lead me toward the stairs, but instead, he bows low and kisses my hand. “You look like a queen.”
My face feels like it’s on fire. The rest of me, too. I have to clear my throat twice to speak, and even then, my voice is rough. “I understand you wish to reach Silvermoon by mid-morning?”
“I do.” He glances past me, and I can see him weighing whether to pry. “I have asked Commander Grey to stay by your side today, but I can ask Jamison, if you prefer.”
“No.” I swallow and glance back at the guardsman. “I trust Grey to keep me safe.”
We head south, the sun to our left. Snow and slush have been trampled down to reveal a rutted gravel that’s clearly seen a lot of traffic already. Trees line the road on either side, the remnants of the forest that encircles Ironrose, but ahead the trees give way to a long sloping valley. Snow glitters on homes and farms that seem small in the distance. Well beyond that, the sun gleams on what must be water.