Page 45 of Enslaved

So I stand my ground and lift my chin a fraction. He says nothing at first, merely tips his head slightly before returning his attention to the Prince. “Rumor reached Aurelis that the Haunted Isle had once more drifted near our coast. We set out immediately to make certain no danger threatens our people. Only to find you here. Far from Vespre.” His eyes narrow slightly. “What are you doing here, Prince?”

“We’re having a picnic. What else would we be doing?”

“A picnic.”

“As you see.”

“On the Haunted Isle.”

“May I remind Your Heroicness that Roseward hasn’t been haunted these last three centuries? It’s quite a pleasant little getaway. Indeed, allow me to recommend it to you and my fair cousin as a honeymoon destination. The air positivelyreeksof romance.”

Lip curled in a disdainful sneer, Ivor turns to me once more. “Are you well, Miss Darlington?”

“Oh, I . . .” Warmth floods my cheeks. Hastily, I offer what I hope passes for a demure smile. “Quite well. Thank you, my lord.”

“Is your master treating you . . . appropriately?”

A dangerous growl rumbles in the Prince’s chest.

“I am perfectly well,” I reply, my voice a little higher than before. “We are . . . We were merely stopping here a moment on our way . . . elsewhere. In fact, we were just preparing to leave when you arrived.”

Ivor inclines his head. “Do you require a lift?”

Before I can respond, the Prince slips a hand around my waist and pulls me to his side. “We have our own accommodations, thank you. In fact, we were just on our way to Aurelis to access the nearest Between Gate. If it’s all the same with Your Mightiness, of course.”

Ivor’s face is stone. After a long, slow stare, he says only, “We will provide you with an escort and see you speedily on your way.” Then he holds out a hand and looks directly at me. “You may ride with me, Miss Darlington.”

The Prince laughs outright, interrupting any reply I might have made. “And bruise herself on that bony beast of yours? Not likely. I am perfectly capable of comfortably conveying my own Obligate hither and thither.”

With that, he whistles sharply. The wyvern, happily preening its wings post-breakfast, pricks its feathery head. Then, launching from the cliffside, it glides smoothly over to us, causing the winged horses to stamp and snort beneath their uneasy riders. But the wyvern simply flattens itself on its belly before the Prince, who catches me up and swings me onto the beast’s feathered back. I just have time to gasp a breath and grip a handful of white feathers before the Prince settles into place behind me, wraps his arm around me, and pulls me back against his chest.

I dare a glance at Ivor. The man looks ready to decapitate someone.

“Shall we then?” the Prince purrs. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m eager for all the comforting sights of sweet home.”

Ivor’s lips thin. For a moment, I fear he will speak. No, worse than that, I fear he will demand some form of mortal combat here and now. Instead he yanks his mount’s head about, raises an arm high, and shouts a command. The next moment, all five riders are in flight, their beasts leaping from the cliff’s edge.

“Hold on, Darling,” the Prince murmurs in my ear a moment before he urges the wyvern into motion. I have the awful sensation of my innards going weightless as the beast leaps out into open air. Then its wings catch the updraft, and we circle into the sky, our faces aimed at last for Aurelis.

Soon Roseward Isle is lost in the fog behind us as it continues its lonely journey across the Hinter Sea.

The rush of wind in our faces makes talking difficult. I am grateful for this small blessing. As we glide through the air above the ocean, my mind is in far too much turmoil to bear conversation.

Something has changed between the Prince and me. This journey has brought us together in ways I’m not sure either of us is prepared for. Is it irrevocable? When we return to Vespre, will we fall back into the same mildly antagonistic dynamic we’ve known up to this point? It doesn’t seem possible. But I don’t know what can or should happen next. What I want to happen next.

I tuck deeper into my cloak. Trying to ignore the pressure of the Prince’s arm wrapped around me, the awareness of his chin resting close to my shoulder, I focus on the horizon ahead of us. My stomach knots. The Prince believes we are bound for home. He doesn’t know I’ve not given up on my quest. Not yet. I have an idea. A mad, possibly forlorn hope of an idea. Perhaps I shouldn’t even try it. But if I don’t . . .

Selfish.

The word echoes in the deepest recesses of my mind. I can’t give up. Not on Danny. Not on Oscar. Perhaps I will fail. But if I do, I will fail knowing I did everything,everythingI could.

But how will the Prince react when he realizes?

All too soon, flanked by Ivor and his mounted warriors, we’re across the water and approaching the magnificent towers of Aurelis. I’ve never seen the center of Lodírhal’s kingdom from this angle before. Somehow it’s even more magnificent, a massive palace-city boasting hundreds of shining turrets which catch the dawnlight and shine like gold. Numerous gardens of lush green and glittering waterfalls cascading from one level to the next make the whole structure feel as though it sprang naturally into existence, grown rather than built. I’ve become so used to the stone and gloom of Vespre, the sight is quite overwhelming.

“We’ll head for the gate as soon as we’ve landed,” the Prince speaks suddenly close to my ear. “Lyklor will be glad to see us. If all goes well, we’ll be back in Vespre by dinner.”

I chew my lip. Then, shouting a little to be heard above the wind: “Since we’re here, I should like to pay a visit to Thaddeus Creakle.”

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