Page 144 of The Prince's Mage

He was not missing his brother’s second wedding. Even if it meant setting foot in a ridiculous Sordes temple. Even if it meant seeing the Desero demon at it.

So the morning they were set to travel just a day’s ride to the nearest temple, Nikias sat on his cot, staring at his red and gold cloak, perfectly clean and neatly folded on top of the trunk at the foot of his cot in his tent.

Whether it had been a dream or real, his memory of it was hazy. He wouldn’t put it past himself to have fully imagined the interaction.

If it had been real, he hadn’t seen Aimilia since. If it had been a dream, then she’d gotten his cloak back to his room through someone else—Gavril most likely—and he hadn’t seen her since the treaty had been finalized.

He needed to.

Whether or not his memory was real changed everything.

He picked up his cloak and clasped it around his shoulders. This was his chance to figure it out.

He ignored the squawking of the healers that seemed to live on the other side of the canvas of his tent as he slowly stumbled outside. He could manage a day’s ride. Fortunately his orders from the day before had been followed, and Commander Aimilia was already there, with both of their horses ready to go join Gavril and the other Runai in their party. Gavril’s wife—who was simultaneously also his betrothed because of Sordes ridiculous customs—had already left with her delegation including their High Priest, an adopted brother—the full story Nikias did not pretend to understand—as well as the Desero demon and whoever else had been chosen to observe the ceremony and partake in the ensuing celebrations.

Rumor had it the Desero demon hadn’t made an appearance since the treaty had been finalized and had left in a covered wagon instead of riding horseback or in a chariot so she hadn’t even been seen then.

Good.

It also meant Nikias, no matter the strain, would ride horseback and his people would see him leave, believe in his strength.

Commander Aimilia eyed him as he walked the short distance from his tent to the horse she held for him. Her eyes first landed on the red and gold commander’s cloak, and there was no surprise in her expression, but that didn’t indicate to him whether she’d returned it personally or not. He resolutely ignored the healer to his right trying to shove a cane into his hands to steady his shaking legs. The red-haired commander did not hide her worry well despite the fact that she seemed to be trying to do so with her flickering expressions.

She was worried about him.

That could be a good sign.

“Your Highness, you know Gavril will understand if you stay here,” Aimilia said as he reached her.

Thankfully, Nikias had much better control over his emotions ruling his expressions. He buried his shock at such a respectful address from her to instead hold his hand out for the reins and raise an eyebrow. He snorted, “Commander, I assure you, my condition is not so poor that I can’t manage a day’s ride. I will not let the Desero demon take away the chance to witness my brother’s wedding, even if it is in the Sordes tradition.”

Aimilia’s concerned expression vanished and she threw the reins at him before turning to mount her own steed, muttering under her breath, “—stubborn—arrogant, prideful—”

Nikias turned his head to hide his grin as he moved to mount his own steed. Now that was usually how Aimilia addressed him. Her being respectful was almost always a bad sign.

But her behavior wasn’t giving him any clear indication of what their last real interaction had been. Still, they were surrounded, so now wasn’t the time to pry into it.

It took him two tries before he was successfully able to haul himself up, and even after he did so his vision went black for a few seconds. When it cleared, he could see Aimilia giving him a pointed look from where she sat on her steed.

Nikias just gathered up his reins and tapped his heels against the horse’s flank to set off in a walk.

Aimilia was insufferable when anyone ever told her she was right.

And she wasn’t right.

He was fine.

He could feel the eyes of his people on him as he rode through the camp. It was the first time he’d been seen publicly since he’d been brought back from the Sordes’ camp. He squared his shoulders and lifted his chin, making sure he showed no sign of weakness. He could hear whispers as he passed, wondering what exactly the Desero demon had done to him since they could see no visible effect other than his still pale skin and the air of exhaustion that he could not seem to hide no matter how hard he tried.

At least he was better at hiding other, more important things.

He watched Aimilia out of the corner of his eye as they rode side by side. Several of the whispers contained her name. Unsurprising, given the rumors that had been circling in Areator before, compounded by the fact that he’d selected her for the treaty negotiations.

He spotted the second Aimilia heard her name whispered. She gave the slightest startle and immediately increased her horse’s pace, pulling ahead of Nikias.

He didn’t smirk.

He didn’t.

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