Heir Apparent

Chapter Twelve

Jade

We spent the night hiding in a stable near the edge of Harton. Sybilla was quiet, but every look she sent me was apologetic. A part of me, the part that longed for a warm bed, wanted to continue to hold her to the apology. It was a small, petty part of me, and as quickly as it ever came to my mind, I sent it away. How many nights of my life were spent in tents and stables? A cozy patch of straw and hay was a fine place to sleep. More comfortable than the ground, and as I shoved bits of golden strands into a pile to curl up into, I made sure to send a reassuring smile toward the spy.

The next day, Aeron and Sybilla had commandeered a rickety wagon and one of the ponies to pull it. I made them leave enough coin to buy a new pony for the family we stole the current, plucky creature from, despite both Aeron and Xavi's clenched jaws. Ponies were important to a farm family, but I wasn't about to spend time lecturing them or recounting them with stories of my early childhood on a farm. I simply ordered the command and trusted they would follow.

I sat in the wagon, leaning against the far side, face turned up to the warm sun. Aeron was driving the pony at a leisurely pace, knowing we still had at least another day before reaching the coast. Sybilla sat with her long legs stretched out, facing me, watching the road ahead with mild interest. I watched her profile, wondering what went on behind her eyes. Was she homesick? Did she have someone to go home to in the future? Or was she like me, content to stay here and change the future? The last I thought was probably not true. She seemed determined to find a way to get me home, and it seemed far more than just out of duty to her empress.

Rocking back and forth, I stretched my hand, opening and closing. Still, it was a marvel that none of my injuries came with me. A scar or two was missing as well, I noted when I had cleaned myself. Not only had I been catapulted back, but evidence suggested I landed back in a body that was of this time, and not my own. A chance to make new scars.

If I were to go back, would I find myself as badly injured as before? The thought was unsettling.

Xavi's hawk-like gaze caught me twisting my arm about, a question lingering that I knew he would never ask. Not around the others. Self conscious, I stopped, instead tapping the big man in the driving seat. "Any chance there's more of that Southern jerky?"

Aeron smiled back at me. "Ever hungry."

I shrugged. "Can't be helped."

"In my pack then." He nodded his head toward our bags, tucked up close to the seat. I pulled it toward me with my foot, looping a toe through the strap. The jerky was wrapped in waxed paper and I withdrew a couple pieces. I waved one piece in the air to catch Sybilla's attention, offering it to her. She shook her head, but I caught the edges of a smile on her lips. Progress. With a shrug, I popped a piece into my mouth, humming in satisfaction.

"How does your army keep you fed?" Aeron, back to watching the road, chuckled a bit, his shoulders shaking.

"In coffee," I mumbled between chews.

Xavi, from his seat at the end of the wagon, long legs dangling over the edge, made a disapproving sound. I snapped my attention toward him, jaw clenching, ready for a retort when a booted foot nudged mine. Sybilla shook her head, a silent plea not to cause a fuss. I blew out a breath, popped the second piece into my mouth and half-crawled, half-crouched to find a seat beside Xavi. I could feel Sybilla's eyes on my back.

"You don't like me." I glanced at the assassin.

"I do not know you and you do not know me."

"What if I were to tell you that I did know you." I could feel Sybilla's eyes practically boring a hole through my spine.