Page 97 of Crown of Roses
She was utterly alone.
She forced herself to breathe. In and out. She allowed the calm of the night to soothe the rapid-fire racing of her heart. It didn’t matter if she was by herself, or if he’d left her. Sure, it was a bit of an awkward predicament that she was without clothing, but she wasn’t completely defenseless. She had her Aurastone, and it would be enough.
The deafening crack of a twig snapping from behind her zapped all of her feigned confidence, and she pulled her dagger from its sheath. She crouched low along the bank, hating that a slickness seeped from between her legs. A memory of their time together. But her fingers coiled around the hilt of the Aurastone and she narrowed her gaze on the tree line, refusing to be caught off guard. Refusing to show weakness or fear. No matter what, she would not die naked.
She held herself to a much higher standard.
Another branch snapped and a shadowy figure bolted out from between two trees, heading right for her.
Maeve did the only thing she knew to protect herself.
A battle cry peeled from her lips and she charged forward.
“Maeve!” A familiar, masculine voice caused her to stumble. She lowered her weapon.
“Cas?”
“Maeve, sun and sky, you’re alive.” Casimir shoved his hood back and rushed for her. He grabbed her shoulders and held her back, scanning her for injury. “Goddess, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. What happened? Are you hurt? And you’re naked…why are you…” In the moonless sky, in the faint glimmer of starlight, his amber eyes darkened to molten gold. “Rowan,” he seethed. “I swear, if he—”
“He didn’t.” Maeve shook her head, and another spine-tingling chill shuddered through her. She lifted her chin, refusing to be ashamed at having been caught in such a state. Casimir was silent, for longer than he should’ve been, but then he nodded sharply. “As long as he didn’t hurt you.”
“He did not.”
He slung a pack from over his shoulder. “Here.” He pulled out a bundle and handed it to her. “I brought you some extra clothing, but you must dress quickly.”
“Clothing?” Maeve reared back. “How did you know I…that we…?”
“Consider it a lucky guess. I’m not blind, Your Highness.” He looked away while she unraveled a blouse, a pair of leggings, and some black slippers. “Everyone in Niahvess knows that you and Rowan have a mutual interest in one another.”
Despite it all, the heat of a flush burned across her chest. “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t call it mutual anymore, considering my current situation.” She tugged on the leggings and slippers, then pulled the blouse over her head. “But why am I hurrying? Is something wrong? And where is Rowan?”
Without a bodice or corset, she knotted the blouse at her waist, and when she looked up at Casimir, hard lines etched his face.
“Rowan has returned to Suvarese.”
Suvarese. The Crown City of Spring. So, the terrible pit of dread in her stomach was correct. He’d left her to return to his Court. To his duty. The amount of crude swear words that spewed from her mouth were so foul, even Casimir blushed.
“Parisa has gotten wind of our plans, and she’s attacked the Summer Court again,” Casimir continued, unbothered by the sheen of sweat coating her skin. He offered her his hand. “We must leave. At once.”
“What? No. If Summer is under attack, we need to stay and fight.”
He leveled her with a glare. “Do you remember what happened the last time you tried to stay and fight?”
Right. She’d been poisoned and had nearly died.
“Yes, but if she’s in Summer, we need to kill her. To save Kells.” Maeve took his hand but tugged him south, in the direction she assumed would return them to Niahvess.
“She is not in Niahvess, Your Highness.” Casimir led her in the opposite direction. West. Toward the coast. “All of her forces are on alert. She’s raised an entire army of dark fae to do her bidding, and it is no longer safe for you here.”
“Casimir, no.” Maeve tried to stop but Casimir was stronger. He pulled her along with him. “My duty is to Kells.”
He whipped around on her. “And my duty is to you. I am here so that you do not die.”
“Returning to Kells without Parisa’s blood on my hands is a death sentence unto itself! Carman wants me dead—don’t you understand that? My own mother wants to kill me!”
“Not if you kill her first.”
Maeve froze. “What?”
