Rosalyne was ready to lay down until morning returned. The rocks and bark bit at her feet, but the more numb they grew, the less it mattered.
The lake rolled out below them, winking moonlight up at Rosalyne as if it hadn't tried to drown her a couple hours before. It was long and curved, filling the valley between two mountains like a pool of blackest ink.
Lord O'rian wanted to put distance between themselves and the lake. He suspected the bowman would search the shoreline for them or their corpses.
The slope continued to unfurl in the darkness, ever steeper. She used branches and trunks growing out of the hill's rocky face to pull herself along. It took every ounce of her will to place one step forward.
Even Lord O'rian was quiet, more worn than he let on.
The anger that had fuelled her faded. She was too tired to feel anything. Or care. She slipped once and Lord O'rian caught her by the hips but she didn't say anything. The thought that her pater would explode at the notion made her shiver.
Lord O'rian waved his hands forward. «Keep your momentum, Highness.»
Rosalyne could feel Lord O'rian's exhaustion like a boulder on their Bridge. She tried to reach beyond the man walking a pace behind her toward the ridge waiting above in the darkness, but her mind felt as limp and rubbery as her legs.
The waves and rustle of trees fell flat and empty, as though he and she were the only two in the world.
«If my assassins discover us, would his lordship please lay down his blade?»
Rosalyne didn't know if any had survived and she could not bear to hope. If the gods Willed her to live, they would make it so. She could not ask someone else to die. Even one that resented her.
Fingers strong as iron dug into her shoulder and held her to a stop.
«I just — fought off men, dove off a bloody cliff, fished your soggy ass from a lake and an arrow head out of your arm,» he said slowly, as if each phrase cost him breath.
She felt his sigh against the hair over her neck and shivered.
«And now you want me to allow you be killed?»
Rosalyne shrugged his hand away and lifted one foot in front of the other.
«I don't want his lordship to die.»
Lord O'rian remained where he was as Rosalyne struggled up the slope.
«Stop, Jaquelle. You'll make me blush.»
She wanted to believe it would be worth it. That all this death — this violence — would be washed away with the tides of peace. It was the only way she could lift her feet. She had to. She'd fall apart if she didn't.
«I'll not lay aside duty.» Lord O'rian began tramping up the hill behind her. «It's a thing of honour. I understand that such a concept might be foreign to you.»
Rosalyne felt fight curling in her gut and fingers. She stopped and turned to him.
He was backlit by the sky and she could not read his face.
«His lordship should tell me something now,» she said as fiercely as she could manage while out of breath. «If it was his duty to protect, why did his delegation not do everything they could to protect my entourage?»
He paused when they were head to head, and a glimmer of anger slipped over their Bridge.
«Do not insult me by denying it,» she said. «The stories I've heard are true — the Cluvani turn into monsters.»
YOU ARE READING
The Jack of Hearts (House of Cards Book 1)
FantasySince the reign of her grandfather, the Aertisians have been at war with the United Clans of the Cluvani. But when her father's prophecy declares that the Jaquelle of Aertisia will bear the heir to the Cluvani throne, her destiny is transformed. Yea...
