Page 125 of The Heir's Bargain

I tried to think about my niece's small, bright face, her tiny fingers wrapping around mine. I tried to think about Ronan chasing fish, his unfiltered laughter echoing across the sea. They were the future of our kingdom, my reasons for fighting.

Yet my thoughts kept wandering to the future king. To the man who would one day lead Pontia to a brighter tomorrow.

The leaders were foolish to have thought that giving my heart to someone to hold would encourage me to be a better leader. Fynn had held a piece of my heart since we were children, and it had done me no good all those years. But now that he held my heart in its entirety with more than a sea between us? It was soul-splitting.

When we landed near the mouth of the Lucien River and traveled along the stream on foot the next day, the voyage south remained quiet and unexciting. We should have been grateful for the silence, yet it only made my thoughts louder and my regrets more bitter.

I couldn't help but wonder how Fynn managed to exist with anyone else's thoughts inside his head. Mine alone were already too loud.

After ten days of traveling, we finally arrived outside the rendezvous point.

Our mission was simple: meet with our contact and retrieve the intel that was too important to pass along by our spies' standard coded messages.

When we were chosen for this mission, I wondered why we needed four people to go. It would have been much easier and quicker to travel alone. But when I asked, my father had shaken his head.

"We're sending a full squad, nothing less," he had said.

Beneath his words, though, lay the real reason: a squad ensured that the mission, no matter what, would be completed. That if the gods were not on our side and one soldier was lost, someone would survive.

Our contact would not arrive until morning, so all that was left to do was wait.

The cave I had chosen for us was tucked away along the mountainside. Rocky cliffs nestled on one side of the entrance and a forest of trees to the right. The four of us hugged our cloaks tight to our bodies as we sat side-by-side around the dwindling fire. Although several weeks remained before the autumn chill crept onto Pontian shores, one would have never guessed that in the mountains separating the kingdoms of Borgania and Kadia. In the northeastern kingdoms, winters were long and hard. If the frigid night air were any indication, this coming season would be no different across Vaneria.

Moris handed me a flask. The time spent traveling had left Moris' usually clean-shaven face burly. His light brown skin beneath his eyes also showed more purple tones than usual.

With a nod, I grabbed the flask and twisted the cap off. However, when I brought it to my lips, the smell of oak and leather wafted to my nose. I put the cap back on and returned it to him, mumbling, "No, thanks."

"Come on, Ferrios," Moris said, nudging me. "We've been traveling nonstop for the last thirteen days. Enjoy the quiet while you can."

I shook my head, tugging my knees closer to my chest. "Someone needs to stay sharp."

With a shake of his head, Moris said, his mouth already to the flask, "More for us then."

He passed it to Sylvia, who drank from it quickly, sighing. They passed the flask to Quint and wrapped their cloak tightly around their body.

As they continued to pass the flask back and forth, I scanned the area outside the entrance. Moris might have been right about the long hike, but I knew better than to let the quiet of the woods fool me. The moment the air stilled and the noise of the wandering rabbits and squirrels dwindled, that was when one should be concerned.

Silence, after all, was not always a gift.

There were messages in the silence. Small, nearly imperceptible cracks of twigs, the rustling of leaves, the prickling of the back of the neck. The minute disturbances that the average person might have ignored were the things that I couldn't help but hear and latch onto. It was why my comrades called me the huntress, and it was one of the reasons I was here.

Apparently, another being that I was the only one wise enough to keep a sharp mind.

"Why is it so fucking cold?" Moris asked, his teeth clattering together. "Isn't liquor supposed to keep you warm?"

"Which idiotic question do you want me to answer first?" I retorted.

"Idiotic? They're not idiotic! They're practical," Moris argued, scooting closer to the fire as he shivered harder. "But the first one."

Quint snorted beside me, pulling the hood of his cloak lower.

I rolled my eyes. "Because we're on top of a mountain, dingus."

"And?"

I rubbed my temples, trying to soothe the headache that was quickly forming. "And do I look like a scientist?"

"No, but you usually know everything. You tracked down the rabbits on the way here. You knew which paths to avoid because you had sensed someone else's presence."

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