Chapter 40
“We should come to a small village by the end of the day, if we keep up the pace, with the outskirts of the capitol only another day of riding beyond that,” Hallis says. “If we’re lucky, we might be sleeping in a real bed this time tomorrow night.”
I can’t lie. The thought of an actual bed sounds borderline euphoric after the lack of sleep I’ve experienced the past few nights. I toss and turn ceaselessly, desperate for unconsciousness to take me under, but I can’t escape memories of the events of projecting myself outside of my body, arguing with Acker, him accusing me of working with Wren.
And the kiss. Gods, that kiss … Acker sits with Beau at his back, and I realize it’s a much less intimate riding arrangement but probably uncomfortable for all involved. When it was time to depart from camp, I made the rash decision to ride with Hallis.
There was a noticeable pause where Hallis and Beau awaited Acker’s reaction, but if they were expecting something significant, they were disappointed when all he did was adjust the halter on his mare and help Beau onto his horse.
I’ve yet to relax against Hallis’s front.
“You chose this,” Hallis says, exasperated.
I pretend to not understand what he means. “Chose what?”
I can almost hear him rolling his eyes. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
Antagonizing me when I’m already teetering on the edge of volatility is not a smart move on his part. I decide remaining silent is the best plan of
action. For his safety, of course. The handprints seared on Acker’s chest are a clear indication of what I’m capable of when pushed.
I still can’t make heads or tails of the fight. After overhearing his conversation, it somehow got turned back on me. His suspicions, Beau’s close observation of me—all of it sheds new light on the situation. And while I know there’s genuine merit to what Acker accused me of—secretly being an ally of Wren—it doesn’t change that it hurt me.
Maybe hurt isn’t the right word for how I feel. Maybe it’s more along the lines of disappointment. Disbelief that he’s betrothed to another.
Frustration with my own naivete for not seeing the writing on the wall. It’s not a stretch to think that Acker could very well be manipulating me for his own personal gain. His vow to kill Kai rang with utter conviction, although I don’t know what he would gain from killing Kai. There wasn’t an ounce of reservation in his words. It will happen whether I want it to or not. Acker spared Kai’s life once for me, and he’s made it clear he won’t do it again.
We keep a steady pace the rest of the day. The temperature mellows as the sun dips toward the horizon, and the wind carries a waft of sea salt every so often, telling me we’re not far from the coastline. We come across a narrow creek our mare becomes skittish when crossing, so Hallis has to take the reins from me. He weaves the leather straps between the fingers of his remaining hand, using each digit to steer the horse with fine-tuned motions. It’s impressive, especially since I can’t even do it with two hands.
We’re halfway across the waterway when Hallis speaks, voice low in my ear. “See, you’re not the only one who is displeased with our riding arrangement.”
I don’t dare look up to see whatever it is that prompted him to make that statement, but I can feel Acker’s attention on us. It burns like the sun itself. I keep my focus locked on Hallis’s deft handling of the reins, noting how he squeezes the horse with his legs to guide her through her fear.
The weight of Acker’s stare doesn’t let up until we’re back on dry land.
“If looks could kill…” Hallis mutters, a hint of amusement in his voice.
“If you find me dead in the morning, you know where to look.”
I find myself smiling in turn. “Acker isn’t who you should fear. I’ve contemplated your death more than Acker ever has, I promise you.”
Hallis’s body goes taut behind me. “Excuse me?”
“Does the name Fang Hands ring a bell?”
“Fang Hands,” he repeats with a hint of recognition. “The story I used to
scare you with when we were children?”
I nod, and his body relaxes once again.
“Acker said you don’t have any memories from your life before Alaha.”
“I’ve dreamt of some, but it’s fuzzy. I regained the darling memory of Fang Hands after a particularly bad saigon root trip.” My stomach churns at
the memory.
“That must have been…”
“Terrifying,” I finish for him.
“I am so sorry,” he says with an undercurrent of genuine sincerity. “For what it’s worth, I’ve had my own experiences with saigon. I woke up naked on the dinner table at my grandmother’s house with her homemade jam smeared in … unsavory places.”
I’m stunned by his admission. I didn’t take Hallis to be the type to divulge much at all, let alone anything that humiliating. “Your poor grandmother.”
“Hey,” he feigns offense. “It’s not that bad of a sight to wake up to.”
That only serves to make me laugh, and I’m still smiling when I make eye contact with Acker. The look on his face takes me by surprise, so much so that my laughter dies in my throat. I was expecting the blank stare he’s carefully kept in place all day, not the soft crinkle of a hidden smile in his eyes before he looks away.
“He told me you overheard our conversation.” When I don’t say anything, Hallis continues. “I may have said some things that could paint Acker in an unfair light.”
It didn’t do him any favors, that’s for sure. “It’s nothing I shouldn’t have already suspected.”
“He’s loyal to a fault—a dangerous fault. The kind where he’d risk life and limb without a second thought if it would save someone he cares about, save his people.” Hallis shifts behind me, and I get the sense he’s uncomfortable discussing his friend like this, especially with someone he doesn’t trust. “There are only two categories of people as far as Acker is
concerned: those he’s loyal to and nearly everyone else. And trust me when I say you never want to be in the last category.”
“And where does the Strou princess fall in this equation?”
“I think that answer is up to you.”
“I can find little difference between him courting her for political gain and what Kai did to me.”
“If you can’t see the difference then I’m not going to be able to convince you otherwise. You’re allowed to hate Acker all you want, princess, but you don’t need to make-believe him into the bad guy to do it.”
Is that what I’ve been doing?
“Has there ever been such a thing?” I ask. “For a matched couple not to
end up together?”
“There have been tales,” Hallis says.
“And?”
“They ended up destroying one another, along with everyone else
around them.”
Well then.
