Page 23 of Ties of Dust

When the group stopped for the night, Flora was relieved beyond words to find that she’d been given her own room. She knew she didn’t deserve the consideration—had she been a male guard, she certainly wouldn’t have received it—but she didn’t protest, so weary and desperate for privacy was she. She learned that the prince had sent a messenger ahead, determined to stop only at an inn that could provide adjoining rooms for the pair of them. No doubt he would be as relieved by the space as she was.

She slept soundly and woke ready to tackle another full day of riding. Apparently they were four hours from the border with Carrack. The first two of those hours passed smoothly. She rode just behind the prince, trying to be unobtrusive as a bodyguard should. It was strange how often she had to remind herself not to strike up a conversation with Prince Cassius, the way she might with one of the Siqualian royals, whom she knew well. She couldn’t explain why, but she felt more comfortable with him than she had any right to. Where was the formidable prince rumor had called proud and haughty? She could see his pride—his manner with his underlings bordered on haughty—but she nonetheless didn’t find him at all intimidating. Perhaps it was because he was never haughty in his manner with her, even though he had every reason to be.

It seemed that the comfort was mutual. More than once, Flora drew back a little within the group to discourage the prince from continuing a conversation he’dattempted to begin with her. It seemed that if she wanted to maintain appropriate distance, she’d have to do so on her own.

Her resolve was thwarted around mid-morning, when the road narrowed in order to pass through a medium-sized copse. She found herself riding right alongside the prince, who was quick to capitalize on the opportunity.

“Can I ask you a question?” His eyes were too piercing for her peace-of-mind.

“You need hardly ask permission, Your Highness.”

He ignored her words. “Was it my imagination that you seemed very reluctant earlier about the idea of going through Dernan?”

Flora hid a wince. How—and why—was he so attuned to her?

“I didn’t relish the idea, Your Highness,” she acknowledged.

He studied her. “Why not? Is there something I need to know about our neighbors? It’s no secret that the Peninsula is not as stable as it once was. If something is so amiss in Dernan that you fear entering its borders, I’d like to know about it.”

Flora felt herself relax. Of course he was focused on matters of state rather than her personal background.

“Oh no, nothing of that nature,” she assured him. “I’m sure you know Dernan’s reputation for reclusion as well as I do, but I don’t have any reason to suspect them of malice.” She shrugged. “At least, I didn’t when I was last there, although as I said that was some years ago.”

Prince Cassius considered her words for a moment. “None of which answers my earlier question of why you were reluctant to go through there.”

Ah. He was right.

“Well…” Flora hesitated over her answer. It was difficult to know how honest to be. “I went to Dernan before I knew Princess Miriam, and…let’s just say her friendship has been a stabilizing force in my life. When I was in Dernan, I behaved in such a way that I wouldn’t necessarily expect goodwill if I were to return.”

Prince Cassius raised an eyebrow, one corner of his lips quirking up along with it. It was an inconveniently appealing expression.

“How intriguing. Do you mean to tell me that I have a wanted criminal for a bodyguard?”

Flora laughed.

“I committed no crimes, Your Highness. I just didn’t endear myself.”

“An unconvincing answer,” he told her. “You must have done something. Did you perhaps steal a griffin?”

“Steal one?” Flora laughed again. “How would I achieve that when they’re supposed to be so rare humans never even see them?”

The prince raised an eyebrow. “So you think they’re real, then?”

She stared at him. “Of course they’re real! Do you really doubt it?”

He shrugged. “A lot of people in Carrack think they’re a myth. Perhaps a self-aggrandizing tale spun by the Dernan crown to increase its own importance in the Peninsula. Having a full monopoly on chameleon steel has been incredibly valuable for them. Maybe they thought that owning—so to speak—a magical species might increase their status even further.”

Flora only just stopped herself from making a scoffing noise, remembering in time that she was speaking with a foreign prince. She wasn’t sure what was more comical—the suggestion that the excess of chameleon steel was some formidable asset to Dernan, or the idea that griffins were made up by the Dernan crown for prestige.

“That’s far-fetched,” she told him frankly. “I don’t see how it would benefit them, either, given that humans never even interact with griffins.”

“Never?” Prince Cassius raised an eyebrow, the tug on his lips suggesting he was enjoying her indignation. “The tales say that if humans are intrepid enough to brave their cliffs, griffins may choose to befriend them, and if they do, the bond is lifelong and potent.”

“I’ve heard the same tales.” It was Flora’s turn to smile. “Although as tobravingthe cliffs, I doubt that’s a rare feat anymore. Since the chameleon steel comes from those cliffs, they’re probably crawling with humans.”

Prince Cassius nodded. “I suppose that’s true.” He smiled wryly. “Sometimes we in Carrack wonder if the chameleon steel is as mythical as we think the griffins. We’ve yet to see any of it. My father has been trying for years to negotiate with the Dernan crown to supply some. Who wouldn’t want chainmail that can change to camouflage the wearer depending on his environment? For Carrack it would be especially valuable, given one of our borders is lined by forest and another by snow-capped mountains.”

“Best of luck to him,” Flora said cheerfully. “Whether or not griffins are mythical, the legendary control of the Dernan crown isn’t. They keep a very tight hold on their one genuinely valuable resource.”

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