Page 49 of A Kingdom of Destruction

His eyes focused on her as he took the reins and held the stallion back. The other two men brought the Appaloosa forward and held him out for Aven until she took hold of the bridle.

“Awfully nice of you, considering there is a chance I’ll take off the moment I’m settled on horseback.”

“Why do you think I gave you the slower horse?” Cillian joked.

Aven tugged the Appaloosa closer and took her time getting in the saddle. The stirrups were too long and had to be adjusted to fit her shorter legs, yet the horse remained steady beneath her, tail swatting back and forth.

“You won’t run.” Cillian swung his horse in a circle to face her as she settled.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I’m starting to get to know you better, and I believe you actually find my company pleasing.”

His satisfied smirk had her swallowing down a chuckle, one his sensitive fae hearing heard regardless. “You are awfully sure of yourself,” she murmured.

She spurred the horse into motion with a slight click of her tongue. Her pants were tight when she squeezed her legs against the barreled torso of the horse, but she felt much better.

More natural.

Cillian rode like he’d been born to the saddle, and with his attention on the path ahead of them, she had the opportunity to study him. The leathers he wore showed off more muscle than his usual attire, and the light-colored shirt left his forearms bare.

“It pays to be sure when you’re in my position,” he answered at last.

Leading the way out of the garden, gravel crunched underneath the horses’ hooves. Sentries guarding the road watched them as they passed, although neither one of them spoke.

“You’ve never wanted to take me to the village before,” she said in the comfortable silence between them. “Is that a conscious choice?”

She studied him, his creamy skin, his strong profile. As much as she hated to admit it, being with Cillian had started to become easier. Not that she would ever claim to be warming up to him, but he presented as a reasonable enough man. Kind when he did not need to be.

He glanced sideways at her. “Must you always think there is some deep, dark motive for the way I do things?”

“Yes,” she answered tightly.

“Maybe we’ve never gone there because you never asked.” His response was pointed.

Aven took it in stride. “I assumed you didn’t want me knowing the layout of the surrounding area. The palace was safe, as long as there were guards to mark my movements. But the moment I learned about the village…” She purposely trailed off and then clamped her mouth closed.

“You think very highly of yourself and your skills, if you believe you’re such a threat you’d bring down the entire village.” Cillian barked out a laugh.

Her gut twisted at the sound, but she kept her grip on the Appaloosa and her chin tilted high. The farther they walkedthrough the surrounding forest, their horses falling into easy step side by side, the more she saw the decline everyone had been talking about. The magic surrounding the palace must have kept the worst of the blight at bay, but the same changes they’d seen in their own kingdom impacted the land here as well.

The breeze might bring the scent of flowers in full bloom, but it also carried a hint of mold and must, an undertone of decay. The trees grew spindly with black spots dotting their trunks.

“This wasn’t done by weapons.” Aven pointed out the black spots on an oak, and Cillian winced. “What happened?”

“No, they were not. Your weapons seep the magic out of our very skin, and when that happens, the land pays a price. We’re connected to it in a way you don’t understand, as mortals. You are born on the land. We are bornfromit.”

She mulled it over, her attention fixated on the spots of decay.

“I’ve done my best for Mourningvale. When my father issues an order, I follow it, and only lately has he entrusted me to make the final decisions on our welfare,” Cillian continued. “We were desperate to find a way to win this war, and we have.”

“I’ve done my best as well, and look where it got me.” Aven forced a warm breath to steady her and held it in her lungs to the count of five.

The forest opened up around them, and the road widened. Outside the dimness of the thick trees, fields of crops stretched toward rolling hills she hadn’t seen before.

At this point in the year, the growth should be knee-high or taller. From what she could see, they were struggling to grow and barely reached mid-calf on her own legs. Up ahead, the spire of a cathedral cut into the blue of the sky. Surrounding the white clapboard building were more trees and shrubs as well as a smattering of buildings. Thatched roofs woven expertly were prevalent, although she noted a few roofs of terracotta tiles.

So different from anything she was used to seeing. Her heart constricted, and she stared until her eyes burned.

---