Page 46 of Of Blood & Stone

Perfect.

“This is for you,” he said, “Once your powers are restored, I want you to use this piece of orodyte to create the willow I had asked for your Kreena Rite.”

Shame and hope twisted inside her chest. Dark and light. Poison and power. She bowed her head, the cold metal of the chain stinging her warm skin as its weight fell onto her shoulders.

“You’re everything a ruler could’ve asked for in times such as these.”

Suddenly, the bird’s deep blue eyes flashed in her mind.

Be wary of who you trust.

She ignored it. The vision and the bird had done nothing but bring more problems.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” she whispered again, lifting her head and touching the orodyte.

“Now,” he paused, motioning to the doors, “it’s time.”

Back stinging and cloak heavy around her shoulders, she offered a strong nod and followed him out into the gardens. The prince and two guards stood underneath a circle of torchlight and willows.

Blood pumping loudly in her ears, her pain sharpened as the royal stared at her with bright green eyes. Dark hair fell to his shoulders, loose strands framing his face as he crossed his arms, his strong build accentuated by a broad chest and formidable arms. He looked less like a royal and more like a warrior, especially with the scars peppered along his arms.

He leaned forward, brow raised in question.

“Sylzenya,” the High One said, the softness in his face gone.

“Apologies,” she replied, pushing the pain as far away as she could manage, “I’m ready.”

As the guards led them out of the Temple's main gate, the prince's smile vanished. Sylzenya looked back.

The High One’s harsh yellow gaze vanished under sandstone wall.

She gripped the orodyte necklace.

“Sylzenya,right?” the prince said, interrupting her thoughts as he stepped in front of her. “Look, I don’t mean to rush things, but I am. So if we could find an inn, tavern, anything really, then we can get out of each other’s hair and sleep. In fact, I’m not against us staying in separate places for the night either.”

She narrowed her eyes. “There’s only one inn, and it’s not far. We’ll go there.”

He laughed. “Oneinn?”

“My kingdom doesn’t have need fortwoinns,” she replied, “That would be unnecessary excess.

“What about travele—?” He stopped, brows furrowed. “Ah, right.”

“Everyone in Estea has a home, so there’s no need for inns. But we have one for people like yourself.” She took a deep breath. “Or apparently people like me.”

“I see you’re looking forward to these next three days, then.”

Sylzenya’s face burned, but she quickly collected herself. “I’m happy to do whatever it is the High One asks of me.”

“Oh yes, I gathered that.”

Sylzenya ignored him. She walked in step with the two guards as the prince trailed behind. The dirt path smelled like fresh roses, the scent reminding her of the many days she had walked it with her parents before her time at the temple. Her mother would pick one of the flowers and tuck it behind Sylzenya’s ear.

Flower bud.

Sylzenya’s back suddenly stung, warm blood beginning to soak through her robes. Damn this orodyte serum that kept her from healing, and damn her parents with it.

Cursing under her breath, she turned her focus to the prince. He was an easy man to stare at—a strong jaw with some light stubble, thick dark hair tucked behind one ear revealing gold hoops, and a curious gaze drinking everything in its path. His gaze found hers. She looked away, pretending to observe the trees as intently as he had been, but she didn’t miss the smirk pulling at his lips.

---