“Yes, sir,” Brandle said, striding away.
I withheld my snort at their act and hurried to Andrew’s side with the rest.
We ate a simple stew the inn provided and then went to the barn for the night. I slept in the back of the wagon with Andrew while the others found less desirable locations in the loft or stood guard.
It felt as though I’d barely slept when the gentle rocking of the wagon woke me. The flicker of the nearby torches was the only light in the otherwise dark night.
“How long have we been traveling?” I asked as I sat up.
Eadric, who was walking beside the wagon, said, “About an hour, I think.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“No need to,” Liam said from the other side. When I looked his way, he handed me a biscuit. “If it wouldn’t draw attention, half of us would be in the wagon with you.”
I took a bite of my biscuit and looked beyond Garron and Daemon to search the horizon for any hint of Adele.
“How much longer until we arrive?” I asked.
“The city lies beyond the next rise,” Brandle said.
I looked at him, Edmund, and Darian, who walked behind the wagon.
“Wouldn’t I draw less attention if I’m on the bench beside Andrew when we arrive?”
Brandle nodded, and Liam held out his hand to help me move into place. The bench was harder than the hay-filled bed.
Within moments, I was internally wincing and recalling the last wagon I’d ridden with Hugh and Eloise. The road to Drisdall had been smooth then, but our lives had already been turbulent.
Please be well, sister,I thought.
Cresting the hill, I saw Adele laid out before us. A stone wall surrounded the city. Oil lamps burned brightly in the pre-dawn darkness, illuminating the slumbering streets and making it easy to see the curls of smoke rising from the occasional home.
It seemed peaceful enough. Yet, that subtle tingle of warning buzzed along my skin as I took in the sight. It whispered that Adele wasn’t what it seemed. But was anything what it seemed? Rarely. Regardless, I knew we had no other choice but to enter.
The road on which we traveled met with a more established one at the bottom of the hill. Another wagon rumbled along it, heading for a city gate guarded by at least ten armored men.
“I didn’t know Adele had a defensive wall,” I said. “Is it leftover from a bygone time, or have there been attacks?”
“It’s new,” Andrew said, “and best not discussed in the open.”
“I understand.”
As our wagon slowly rumbled down the hill, assisted by Andrew’s braking, the other wagon reached the gates. I watched the guards search it thoroughly and speak with the driver. We were still too far away to hear what was being said. When the guard stepped back, the wagon pulled through the gates without an issue.
Garron reached out to pat the ox with his free hand and glanced back at me. He dipped his head and cast his eyes down meaningfully.
“Stubborn,” I muttered. “It won’t be me that calls attention but them.”
Andrew chuckled, proving he’d heard me.
As we approached, I lowered my head and gaze to appear less noteworthy. Then, I opened myself to feel what the guards were feeling. They were tired and ready for the next watch to relieve them. One of them resented the queen and her order to guard the gate.
From under my lashes, I looked for that guard. His nearly white beard bespoke his age.
The older guard stepped out from the rest and lifted his hand as we approached.
“Halt. State your business in Adele and the duration of your stay.”