The King's Cursed Bride

Searching in the Dark: Part 2

Elder Lorem turned to her, as did everyone else. "And why ever not?"

Carissa replied, "He's with us. We journeyed together from Nysia to Esmeray."

The entire crowd bristled with murmurs:

"What's the meaning of this? Are they Nysian spies?"

"I knew we shouldn't have trusted them."

"We ought to rid ourselves of all the Nysians and be done with them."

Elder Lorem shouted, "Silence!"

But the Elder's voice was barely audible amidst the increasingly loud voice of the crowd. People began to cluster around her. A hand snatched the sleeve of her shirt before she pulled away. Someone pushed her from behind.

Carissa could sense the rising thirst for violence in the crowd, like a wolf's warning snarl before it attacked. Someone slammed one of the tent rods into her side, making pain pierce her abdomen, and she spun around. With everyone pressing so closely around her, she couldn't tell who'd hit her.

Perhaps if she remained calm and didn't retaliate, they'd settle down.

But then someone shoved her, and she tumbled to the ground before curling into a ball. Someone else delivered a kick to her back. If she remained on the ground, she had no doubt they'd kill her.

When someone else kicked her in the chest, narrowly missing her face, Carissa decided it was time she defend herself.

The tent pole whistled through the air as someone tried to bring it down on her, but she caught it before it could hit her ribs. A quick glance up revealed a man with thick brown hair held it.

She twisted it out of his grip. Someone else moved to kick her, and she swung the tent pole towards them. Judging from the firm thunk, followed by a sharp hiss of pain, she'd hit him. Carissa rammed the pole into someone's chest and hit someone else's leg. Soon, she was twirling the pole in her hands, making the crowd step back.

She rose to her feet, keeping an eye on the caravan members lest they all decide to descend upon her again. "We're not spies, and we mean you no harm."

Their expressions were tight as they stared at her, anger smoldering in their eyes.

Words had never been her forte; that was Elon's job. But she couldn't see him in the mass of people. Perhaps he was battling his own angry mob.

"Make way!" Elder Lorem shoved past the people before nearing Carissa.

Carissa stopped twirling the rod but held it by her side. "Elder." Hopefully he'd be able to calm them.

He turned to face the crowd, his gaze cold and hard as steel. "We've been a caravan—and more importantly, a family—for longer than most of you have been alive. And never have we resorted to senseless violence."

A few shifted uncomfortably, their heated glares cooling at the Elder's words.

"You've elected the Council members on account of their wisdom in experience, to guide this caravan in path that would be the most beneficial to all. The Council has decided that these Nysians are our guests, and you are not to—"

"No, father." Mera stepped forward. "You decided that they are our guests. Not the Council and certainly not us." The crowd murmured their agreement.

Carissa squeezed the tent rod until her fingers burned. Mera knew that they were there to protect her, and yet she dared to come against them. Wasn't the foolish girl worried that they would spill her secret?