Page 76 of Kingdom of Briars and Roses

A bitter smile tugged at his lips. “Because no one has. Especially not another royal like you.”

“Why not?”

“Callan likes to use the word brother when it suits him. But not at Grey Oak. Not in front of our father.” His gaze flicked up to the sky, and his voice was tinged with bitterness. “We had different mothers. The bastard never lets me forget it.”

The confession hung between us, his words cutting through the night air like a cold blade. I studied his profile in the dim light, trying to understand him, trying to piece together this male who seemed loyal to Callan but carried so much anger toward the prince and their father.

“What is the king like?” I asked.

Rydian didn’t answer right away. His gaze remained fixed on the valley below. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, almost haunted. “You’ll see soon enough.”

I shivered at his cryptic response. It wasn’t exactly what I’d wanted to hear, especially after I’d already allied myself with the male in question.

He turned back to me, his eyes catching mine, and for the briefest moment, something passed between us—something charged and heavy. I couldn’t ignore the way my pulse quickened, the way the air seemed thicker with him standing so close.

“Be careful,” he said, his tone suddenly softer. “At Grey Oak, things aren’t always what they seem.”

“Be careful of what?” I asked, a knot forming in my stomach.

Rydian’s eyes held mine. “Don’t let anyone know you have that kind of magic.”

My breath caught in my throat. I swallowed hard, trying to appear unfazed. “I don’t know what magic you mean.”

“Yes, you do.”

Fear twisted in my gut. I should deny it all—but the need to understand drove me. “And if I did know, why should I be careful?”

He studied me. “Because people like Duron—like Callan—they’ll use it. And they’ll take everything you are in the process.”

I wanted to argue, but the stark concern in his expression stopped me. I’d heard stories about King Duron. His political cunning was only outshined by his ruthlessness. It was why his army was considered the most formidable in the realm.

Rydian’s eyes lingered on mine for a moment longer, as if he wanted to say more, but then he stepped back, his expression hardening again.

“Get some sleep, Your Highness,” he said, the bite back in his tone. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Aurelia

We broke camp at dawn. Rydian was nowhere in sight by the time I dressed and joined the others. Callan was the last to emerge from his tent. I noted dark circles under his eyes, but when I asked him how he’d slept, he chirped out, “Great,” and flashed one of those charming smiles.

I let it go.

Slade was waiting with Shadow, the horse already saddled and stomping impatiently.

“Morning, Your Highness.” Slade dipped his chin at me and handed me the reins.

Shadow snorted at the sight of me.

I mounted without help and couldn’t shake the burst of pride I felt over the accomplishment. It was probably stupid, but I took it as a sign I was fitting back into the waking world. Hopefully, I could master the skills I’d need to navigate the Autumn Court just as quickly.

As we wound through the hills and into the valley, the temperature dropped. I pulled my cloak more tightly aroundme and kept my face angled down to counter the wind’s bite on my cheeks as much as possible.

On the far side of the valley, we crossed into Grey Oak Forest, a crowded autumn wood filled with a mass of Purple-Leaf Oaks that cast long shadows over the moss-coated ground. It was enough to distract me from the nerves that were growing worse the closer we got to the Autumn Court.

Finally, we emerged on the other side.

I stared out over a landscape rich with color—copper leaves that shimmered like burnished metal and deep emerald fields stretching endlessly under a blue sky. It was beautiful in a way that made my heart ache; a beauty that felt untouched by the looming shadow of war. I was both relieved to find it so whole and resentful that Summer had suffered so greatly in comparison.

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