After all, if the king offers you his daughter’s hand in marriage, you don’t turn it down. It’s not even an option.
“It would be difficult to be as lovely as Lady Clover, though, wouldn’t it?” Ayan says with a mischievous grin, tempting me to smack him and Lawrence both. “I won’t hold that against your sister.”
What was I thinking? How are we supposed to travel withtwoof them?
“All right, you’ve talked me into it,” Ayan says. “I’ll come with you.”
“That’s really not necessary,” Henrik says stiffly.
Lawrence looks between the men, picking up on Henrik’s extreme dislike for the elf, and then he extends his hand to Ayan. “Glad to have you join us.”
Henrik lifts a brow at me, silently asking me if I thought this plan through. I didn’t—but it will be fine.
With Ayan’s help, we’re sure to find the princess, and when we do, I will prove Camellia is a murdering necromancer, clearing my name from all suspicion.
“Why do you want to come with us?” Bartholomew asks when Lawrence leads Ayan inside to pick out a horse.
“To aid my king, obviously,” Ayan says flippantly, and then his eyes travel to Lawrence’s back, and a grim expression crosses his face. “And who knows? Perhaps in the future, I will ask you all to repay the favor.”
I pause, startled by the elf’s abrupt change of demeanor. But when Ayan looks back at me, his expression is bright once more.
Perhaps I misread him.
* * *
“I havea surprise for you after we leave the city,” Ayan says from beside me as we ride through the outskirts of Cabaranth.
I look at him warily. “A surprise?”
“One you’ll like.”
The High Vale elf has no qualms about riding, and he shamelessly accepted the horse and supplies Lawrence offered without so much as a word of feigned protest.
Pranmore, on the other hand, walks with the group, still refusing a horse. Occasionally, he shoots Ayan a disgruntled look.
He, more than even Henrik, is not pleased the High Vale has joined our rescue party.
“What kind of surprise?” Bartholomew asks, riding his beloved gelding, Vidnar.
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Ayan responds merrily.
We ride a while longer, until we’re outside the city.
“We’re close now.” Ayan leaves the road and heads into the meadow, toward a copse of trees in the distance. “Follow me.”
“Not likely,” Pranmore says. “How do we know you don’t have an ambush waiting for us?”
Ayan rolls his eyes and then motions toward the trees. “See those two boulders out there? The ones looking all agitated?”
My breath catches, and I wonder…
“How can a rock look agitated?” Lawrence drawls.
“No, he’s right.” I grin, urging my mare ahead of Ayan. The warm autumn breeze blows back my hair as I coax the horse for a little more speed.
I dismount when I reach the trees and then stand in front of one of the short boulders. “Aren’t you going to say hello?”
Undaunted by their stony welcome, I sit atop the closest one. As I had hoped, magic shimmers around it, and moments later, it turns from a perfectly ordinary rock into a small person. Unable to catch myself, I end up falling on top of Maisel with a loud “oof.”