Page 55 of The Throne Seeker
She didn’t move.
He let out an irritated sigh. “Look, I made a promise to Tristan that I’d look after you, so that’s what I’m doing.”
She’d rather walk the miles barefoot just to avoid sharing a saddle with him. But Tristan had offered his aid, and she was in no position to deny that. Plus, she didn’t want to give Roman the satisfaction of thinking she was intimidated by him.
So her pride got her up onto the horse, ignoring his helping hand. She mounted it like second nature.
Roman climbed on behind her. His chest pressed against her back as his powerful forearms extended around her to grasp the reins, as though he was demonstrating how effortlessly he could overpower her. His warm breath brushed against her cheek as she was engulfed by a blend of musk and cedar—a scent she’d never bothered to acknowledge before now.
“On your order,” he drawled next to her ear.
She shot him a vexing glance over her shoulder. Nonetheless, she looked past him at the men. “Mount your horses.”
And may the sea and sky gods help her get through this alive.
CHAPTER 24
Rose braced herself at the sight of the roaring water. It was unusually high for this time of year, remnants of the harsh winter reinforcing its depths. The rapid current crashed against the massive boulders, sending echoes through the tall, slender trees.
In the midst of this raw power, a smooth body of water lay at the edge of the river, cradling five large boats. Each of them bore the designated House flags. In addition to Tristan’s red griffin, Dawnton’s green serpent, and Rose’s blue dragon, she spotted Grant’s brown griffin and Emmett’s purple wolf, waving proudly in the wind.
Roman dismounted first, not bothering to extend a hand to assist her down. She didn’t need it, gracefully dismounting the horse on her own.
She didn’t waste a moment before she strode to join the others waiting by the riverbank, trying to leave him in the dust.
Roman’s voice cut through the silence, his powerful strides easily keeping up with her pace. “Just so you know, most women in Cathan don’t know how to ride a horse like that… or feel like that.” His words hung in the air, thick with suspicion.
Her stomach sank, but she kept walking with quick strides. “And how is that?” Rose played it off, putting on her gloves.
“Like a soldier.”
Her cheeks flushed at how closely he’d been paying attention. “My mother’s always complained that I’m a tomboy.” It wasn’t entirely untrue. Thankfully, he didn’t have time to pursue it as they reached the crowd.
After regrouping, she and the other participants clambered into the rowboats. She squashed the growing fear that threatened to take over as she took her place at the front. She spotted her mother among the spectators on the riverbank, including the royal family and the queen and princess of Vertmere. Behind them, the rest of the court eagerly waited for the challenge to begin.
Her mother frowned at the sight of several of Tristan’s men in her boat. Rose managed to give her the brightest smile possible, trying to soothe her mother’s worries along with her own.
The king and all twelve council members were the last to arrive, making their way to the shore. Lord Martin looked especially smug until he spotted Tristan’s men in her boat. A blink later, he stomped over to the king, jabbing a grubby finger in her direction. Although she couldn’t overhear their discussion over the river, it was clear that Lord Martin’s argument held no weight. The king did nothing about it. Lord Martin’s expression curdled like sour milk.
The king treaded for the docks, yelling over the rushing river. “Today’s challenge is simple.” He held up a golden replica of the sun relic of Cathan. “Retrieve this first, and you win the challenge. You must row upstream, cross the firewall, and locate the sun relic hidden in the ancient ruins. A true leader never abandons his men. Therefore, all of your men must be present at the ruins when you capture the relic, or you will lose points.No killing is allowed under any circumstances. Any who commit the crime will also meet the same fate.” The king’s threatening gaze ran over all of them. “We’ll begin at the sound of the cannon. Good luck to you all.” He raised the flag in his hand. “To succession!”
“To succession!” they roared back.
She glanced fleetingly at Tristan, his boat anchored beside hers. He gave her an encouraging nod, though his white knuckles clutching his oar gave him away.
On the opposite side sat Grant, who winked at her. Emmett and Dawnton, further down, wore only scowls, their enraged eyes fixed on Tristan’s men in her boat.
“On your mark,” King Henrik called, holding the white flag higher.
The moment the king lowered the flag, a thunderous cannon blast erupted through the forest, startling a flock of geese into flight. The contestants sprang into action as she plunged her oar into the water and rowed as if her life depended on it.
She and Tristan were the first out of the docks, but only by a fraction. She would deny it until her last breath if anyone asked, but in those first crucial moments, she was glad to have Roman’s lethal arm strength on her side as they surged upriver.
She risked a quick glance back. Grant was tailing her closely, while Dawnton and Emmett lagged behind, with Dawnton edging slightly ahead, taking longer to enter the current.
She pushed her arms to go faster, clutching her oar with a death grip, throwing her upper body into it.
They had only made it a few yards down the river when she heard shouting.
