Page 84 of Deadwood
“It’d be trading one prison for another, like you said. Maybe I truly cannot be free.”
Sadness laced her tone, and it lit something inside of me I didn’t want to feel. That Icouldn’tfeel. Not when it came to Auria Tenere.
“Freedom will not find you if you choose to stay in that mindset. If you’re so content with trading one prison for another, why haven’t you?”
“I guess I’ve had some semblance of hope.” She shook her head, her gaze falling to the ground. “What a foolish thing.”
My hands flexed at my sides. There was always hope. She just had to keep her faith.
My voice quieted the slightest bit. “It’s quite brave, having hope. After all, when the horrors of the world are no match for the demons in our heads, the true battle is not the physical, but the mental. And you, Princess, are beating all odds.”
A burst of air blew through her nose. “I’d hardly say I’m beating it.”
“You’re alive, aren’t you?” I asked.
She nodded.
“I’d say you’ve already won, then.”
She turned in place, tilting her head up to look me in the eyes. Hers were the color of the leaves in the forest as the bands in the night sky reflected silver light off the tree canopy. They were magnificent, and I feared I’d get lost in them if I stared too long, but something about Auria made me want to keep looking.
“We’ll see about that when my father finds a way to Deadwood.”
I dipped my chin. “Ah, yes. You mentioned there was a deadline. Surely King Tenere will understand your delay with the bridge being destroyed.”
She let out a small laugh, but it was void of all emotion. “If there is one thing my father can’t do, it’s understand that something didn’t go his way.”
I folded my hands together behind my back. “He’s about to be in for a treat, then, isn’t he?”
The corners of her lips twitched, hinting at a smile, and my job here was done.
By the looks of it, Auria was conflicted between staying on her father’s side and going after what she truly wanted. It was a choice she’d have to make, but without the entire truth, I feared she might choose wrong. But it wasn’t my decision whether she could be privy to the plan at hand.
There were more forces at play here than just me and Auria, and despite my loathing of her father, I couldn’t put her at risk.
She deserved more than to be caught in the crossfire, and I’d make sure she remained unharmed while in Deadwood. But once she was back in Amosite, I couldn’t protect her.
She’d have to learn to do it herself.
CHAPTER 27
AURIA
The morning after the incident in the caves, my lungs were already feeling better. There’d been a slight burning in my chest, but Doctor Quinn had assured me it was just the wheeze that would clear up soon enough. My ankle no longer hurt to put pressure on, the healing vial having sped up the process immensely. I was grateful for that as I put all my weight on it to swing my other leg over the bench at the breakfast table in the dining hall.
I’d felt queasy before breakfast and dipped into one of the shops on my way, refilling an ice vial near one of the chests holding an array of meats. I was already starting to feel a bit less sick as the time between using my magic lengthened, and I hoped it was due to my body getting used to not using it as often.
Our guards had retrieved their breakfast before returning to their house, opting not to sit with us. I wondered if it was because they were humiliated over the attack or they simply didn’t feel comfortable in Deadwood. Either way, they weren’t doing much protecting.
Lander sent me a wink from where he stood in line behind Paxon, the two of them filling their plate with an abundance of baked goods, fresh eggs, and herb-roasted ham. I’d been taking to eating at the house, but decided if I was going to make the best of my last days on this trip, I might as well do my best to enjoy the company of others as much as I could.
Paxon had found somewhere to launder his only outfit, the previous dirt stains no longer visible on the dark green fabric. He stuck out like a sore thumb among the people of Deadwood, though I assumed that was his goal. His ego would never opt to blend in with the masses.
Paxon didn’t spare me a glance as he seemed to be intently listening to the conversation just ahead of him, the set of his mouth strained. Lander reached to grab a pastry off the wood-carved platter to the side of Paxon, but then Paxon moved. All of a sudden, Paxon had the back of one of Deadwood’s guards to the buffet table, his fist gripping the man’s black shirt.
The commotion pulled everyone’s attention to the two of them as Paxon got in the man’s face, shaking him. “What the fuck did you just say?”
The guard seemed completely calm, and then I realized it was Hanklie, the same one who’d come into the infirmary the night before with the news of the bridge collapsing.
