Page 45 of Blood and Fate

“But let me ask you this,” he began, bringing his eyes to hers, the connection further frustrating her breathing. “Is that what you want? Not the going home part, of course; you want to go home. The part where you’re promised to three different men. Is there one among them you desire? One you wish to spend your life with?”

As if it were up to her. As if she could choose her own path. The sixty-year-old? The twelve-year-old? She had no prayer for a normal life or even as normal as a Princess could hope for. And Henrik. Her breath hitched at the very thought of his name, the sound of it curling around her throat and squeezing.

“Satori?”

A shudder ran through her as she looked up.

His expression had turned hard, serious. “I don’t know what you’re thinking right now, but I could guess. So, allow me to offer you this as well. I’ve already told you that I’ll deliver you home safely. But, if you don’t wish to go back—“

She opened her mouth to defend herself, but he held up a hand, halting her words.

“If you do not wish to go back for any reason, you may remain here. Or, I’ll take you wherever you wish to go. Wherever you feel you’ll be safe.”

The sincerity in his words cracked her chest, and tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them back.

“General!” Teague’s voice pierced the quiet that had settled between them.

“Yeah!” Kais called back, though his focus remained on her.

“Ready when you are, sir.”

“Ready, Princess?”

She nodded.

“Mount up!” Kais yelled back. Then he extended a hand, gesturing for her to go ahead.

They exited the woods, reseating their horses. The men had already started riding out, and Satori and Kais joined them. They rode in silence for a long time, for which Satori was grateful. It gave her time to process everything Kais had said to her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

KAIS

Kais nudged his horse, picking up pace and riding out in front of the men. Partly to distance himself from Satori, partly so he could hear better. Even Teague stayed back, keeping anyone from following him.

He slowed his horse to a walk, tuning his ears to the sounds around him. The breeze rustled through the treetops, sending a cascade of dead leaves drifting to the ground. Several birds called to each other, their whistles answered by others farther along the path. But no other sounds greeted him.

He encouraged his horse to move a bit faster until the quiet was replaced by the unmistakable rushing of water. The Vardan River was the largest in two countries. Safe places to cross existed, but they were much farther downstream. It was too far out of the way when his destination was barely half a day’s ride on the opposite bank.

He glanced behind him but heard no sound of his approaching men. He’d ridden far enough ahead of them that he had some time. He squeezed his horse’s flanks, encouraging the animal toward the sound of the water. He rode through the area where they would spend the night and through more woods until the treeline gave way to the wide banks of the Vardan.

He reined in his horse and pulled in a breath that tasted of wet earth as he took in the sight before him. He knew what to expect, and yet, for some reason, it always took his breath away. The water rushed downstream, a roar filling the air, the surface frothing white as it crashed against rocks and in on itself. He walked the horse only a bit farther up the stream until he saw it.

The bridge was just as he remembered it, mostly destroyed. He lifted his eyes to the opposite bank. The rope still hung, suspended above the river’s flow. It stretched from one bank to the other, passing through a small island with a massive tree just off-center in the river.

The idea was to tie yourself to the rope and take your chances on the bridge. But you had to stop at the island and change ropes to continue to the opposite side. Depending on the weather, the island could be mostly dry or mostly underwater. Today the water flowed in a thin stream over its surface. Not too bad. It also looked like someone had tried to add to the bridge by dropping some tree trunks on or beside it. Would that help or hinder? They would find out soon enough. With a last look, he turned his horse and headed back to his men.

“How’s it look?” Teague asked when Kais met back up with the group.

Kais shrugged. “Like the crossing. The island’s wet but not flooded. Fallen trees on the bridge. I think they’re there on purpose. The rope looks intact.”

“And the water?”

Kais nodded, looking around at the men. “Flowing.”

“It rained.” Teague’s response sounded matter-of-fact, but Kais recognized the undercurrent of apprehension.

“It did, but it’s no worse than other times we’ve crossed.” Kais raised his voice. “Stop here. Relax, get some rest. We cross in the morning.”

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