Chapter 26

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We departed the inn as the sun peeked over the horizon, the forest glowing pink and ethereal in the dawn light. Beatriz and Rafael woke me, unlocking the door that I hadn't bothered to try last night after my unceremonious removal from the room downstairs.

"I'm sorry about your family," I said to Rafael, as Beatriz sat me down to unwind the bandages and inspect my ear. Her fingers stilled at my words, a glance towards Rafael before she continued her work. The soldier simply swallowed, nodding curtly before excusing himself in Ardal and slipping from the room.

"Is he all right?" I asked, wondering whether the circles under his puffy eyes would hinder his ability to protect the prince when we rode out.

"His entire family was slaughtered. How would you feel?" Beatriz said, distracted by her work of removing the stinking poultice from my ear. I hissed in reply as she touched the raw flesh.

"You're fine," she snapped, when I tried to move out of her reach.

"It stings!" I protested. She sighed.

"Would you rather I cut the entire thing off and save myself the trouble, then?" she asked.

I glared at her, settling back into my chair with a grumble. I bit the inside of my cheek as she worked, determined not to so much as wince as she re-dressed the wound, wrapping my head in a bandage once again.

In the inn's courtyard, horses and men milled around, Frederico at their center. We were all dressed in black, the only thing identifying us as a group. It was a clever idea, I thought, as Beatriz pointed me towards a horse before heading away towards her brother. No flag, no banners, simply a dress code. It would make Frederico's ranks easy to infiltrate by an outsider, but it would also help his men blend in should we ever need to separate and disappear.

I made a mental note to bring up my concerns with his makeshift uniforms during our next verbal sparring match.

The horse I'd been directed towards was a bay mare, saddlebags already loaded with supplies, a bedroll tucked away beneath them. She swished her tail, stamping once as I approached. I greeted her, extending my hand for her to sniff before reaching to pet her withers. She blinked at me with a skeptical brown eye that reminded me of another pair of brown eyes.

"I heard you wanted to ask after your man."

The voice was that of the messenger's, from last night. He was still dressed in his travel worn commoner's clothes, his sharp, dark eyes wary as he approached me. Sliding my hands into my pockets, I turned to face him.

"If you know anything," I began, before realizing I had nothing to offer him in return for any knowledge, "I would be indebted to you."

A sharp smile cracked the corner of his face.

"Pay your debt to the true king on my behalf," the messenger said, his keen gaze sliding over to where Frederico was preparing to mount up, talking quickly and quietly with Beatriz and Rafael. "Your man was tall and very...Pretanian. Right?"

I snorted at the Ardalonian's assessment of Giles, as close as I could come to a laugh thanks to the guilt and dread warring in my gut.

"I'd seen him around before," the messenger continued, "But never again after the coup."

Something hard and painful congealed in my stomach as everything in my mind rallied to fight against the messenger's words.

Giles was gone.

The thought was devastating, all the breath leaving my lungs as it sank in.

"But the other Pretanian, the older one," the messenger continued, despite my inability to conceal the effects his words had on me, "He came around asking about your man the day after."

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