Page 9 of Feral Guardian
“Daylight is burning,” he says, gesturing to the loaded carriage.
My anger simmers. If we want to be back in town before night falls, we need to leave now.
I roll up the scroll and pass it back to Lily. “Let’s get you to your carriage, princess.”
“Could I ride a horse with you for a while?” she asks, her eyes sparkling hopefully.
“You’re not dressed for horseback riding.” I put my helm back in place and turn to walk toward Kor’Tar.
A radiant gleam of green light shines from behind me, and I beg the gods for patience. Lily runs up beside me, her lilac dress now formed into billowing pantaloons and a cropped top that shows off a bit of skin around her navel. My eyes linger on that strip of skin a second longer than I’d like.
“Ready,” she beams.
“It’s not safe for you to ride in the open,” I say as I tug open the door to the carriage.
“Oh, please, Alastair. I haven’t ridden a horse in ages!” She puts her hands together below her chin and pouts. The gesture is just the same as it’s always been. And I’m just the same as I’ve always been.
I can’t deny her.
“Ten minutes,” I say, because our conversation was rudely interrupted and I’d like to continue it. It’s been so long since I’ve talked to my princess.
She squeals in delight, her cheeks bunched up in joy.
I march to Derek, coming up to his chest while he’s astride his horse. I glance up at him. “Dismount and ride with Sven.”
He glares at me. “Who?”
“The carriage driver.”
“That’s not advisable,” Trask says.
“I’m the head of the princess’s security. I will secure her for ten minutes while she rides horseback.”
Trask’s men aren’t amused by her antics. I can see the disdain in their eyes, and it stokes my anger. She is the fucking princess of Fynren and if she wants to ride a horse for a few minutes after being cooped up for four years, she’s gods damned allowed.
“Ten minutes,” Trask repeats, then nods Derek off his horse.
The man purposefully swings his leg toward my face as he dismounts and I smack it away, making him stumble as he lands. He stomps all the way to the carriage and Lily does a gleeful dance beside me.
She grabs the horn and steps into the stirrup. I hold her waist, my hands nearly encompassing her. My fingers brush that little strip of her warm skin and I try not to notice how smooth it is.
“Oh,” she gasps at my touch, then looks over her shoulder at me. Her cheeks are pink again. “I’ve got it,” she protests, but I don’t let go.
I can’t. Something deep in my chest demands that I hold her waist and help her up into the saddle. She takes my silence as refusal and allows me to push her up into her seat.
I mount Kor’Tar and pull up next to Lily at the center of the entourage. “Ten minutes.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” she says, waving away my reminder. She points down the road, her broad grin getting even more brilliant. “Onward, to victory!”
At her order, the procession takes off at a trot.
“So, tell me everything I’ve missed,” she says.
I flounder for any shred of something important I could tell her. “Alyse is engaged to be married to the eldest prince of Wolfsheim.”
“No, notpolitics,” she groans. “Tell me about what you’ve been doing while I was gone! Not cooling your heels, obviously. Did you get taller? I’m fairly certain you did. You definitely bulked up some. Been exercising a lot?”
“I have.” I smile, glad it’s hidden by my helm.
