Page 18 of Sky of Thorns

“I’ll survive, your majesty,” he replies with a nod of his head.

“See that you do.” He shifts behind me before leaning forward, snaking one arm tightly around my midsection and directing his horse into a gallop on the open road. “Better hold on tight, Sybil.”

I involuntarily shiver as the wind whips in my face as we gain speed while riding through the rain. Aramis seems more at ease around me since opening up about what awaits me in Shadowvale. Almost as if a small weight has been lifted off his chest, although part of me is still in disbelief at his change of heart.

As we ride through the hateful rain, I curse my wool cloak for doubling in weight as it starts soaking up the moisture, making me soon shiver. Praying Lemon stays dry deep within my pocket. I make sure what’s left dry of my coat shields it from the rain. Noticing my discomfort, Aramis arches forward and pulls me close to him, trying to cover me as best as he can as we make our way to shelter. A fluttering sensation grips my stomach and I revel in the sensation of his chest against my back. His arms are no longer a cage but a warm embrace around me.

What have I gotten myself into?

***

A sigh of relief escapes my throat as I lift my gaze to the building towering before me, its windows glowing a cheery orange. Aramis and Nero make their way inside to secure us rooms overnight. This tavern is located near the center of the town. All the shops are closed as the storm continues to rage on. The alleys are cast in pitch black and shadows, heightening my imagination of what’s hiding in the dark.

As I sit shivering on his horse, water dripping miserably off my body, they re-emerge from the tavern, followed by two stable boys.

“Looks like we’re bunking up. They only have three spare rooms. Come,” Aramis commands me, as he lifts me from the back of his stallion. As I take his hand, I barely manage to land gracefully on my feet right after dismounting from Percy’s back. After hours of riding horseback in the cold, my legs are numb. Right now, I’d give almost anything to immerse myself in a steaming hot bath.

“What about Sybil?” Nero pushes his hair absently out of his face before nodding in my direction.

“She will be under my guard.” Aramis’ hand gently pushes against the small of my back. His rough and stern tone is in stark contrast to the intimate gesture. As he opens the door, he looks down at me, studying my reaction to his touch. “Just in case she gets some last-minute ideas and attempts another escape” He quirks an eyebrow at me, the corner of his lips turning up in a smirk. I know he is testing me, so I stay quiet. Turning back towards Nero, he adds. “Make sure the horses are rubbed down and fed. I’ve paid for supper and ale for the evening when you’ve finished.”

Aramis tosses two keyrings at Nero, who catches them with ease before leading his horse along with the other guards. Crossing the threshold, we head upstairs. My stomach lets out an audible grumble as the smell of roasting meat mingling with fresh bread and mead wafts as we walk up the stairs. Inserting a matching key into the lock of a broad wood door, Aramis unlocks the door, pushing it wide open before dragging me inside.

A warm crackling fire illuminates and heats the small room. The space is sparsely furnished, with only a desk, an empty wooden tub, and a single bed that is barely big enough for two people.

Only one bed? And where exactly does he expect me to sleep? On the floor, like an animal?

Bustling behind me breaks my spiraling thoughts as servants appear in the doorway carrying steaming buckets of water. They brush past me, pouring their contents into the wooden tub before ducking out the door without a word.

“I hope the accommodations are to your liking, your highness.” A willowy pale figure with blue eyes and waist long curly blonde hair appears in the door. Her arms hold a tray laden with soaps and oils. Her tight-fitting bodice leaves little to the imagination as she leans forward, her bosom nearly spilling out to set the tray on the table. “If you need any assistance with your ba—“

Her words stop short as her eyes fall on me, her nose wrinkling in shock and disgust.

“That will be all, Oletta.” Aramis replies coolly and invites her to leave the room. He rests his hand on the door and slowly shuts it with a resounding click before turning the lock. The last thing I see is the outrage and humiliation on her face.

He leans his body against the door, gazing at me through hooded eyes. Aramis crosses his arms over his chest and a lock of blond hair falls into his face, obscuring one eye.

“You don’t have to lock the door. You know I won’t escape,” I say as I make my way to the table and examine the variety of soaps.

The heat of his gaze rakes over my body. My pulse quickens in response.

“Standard procedure, I’m afraid,” he says with a shrug.

We’ve had each other’s company for the previous ten days, but this is the first time we’re completely alone. I turn towards him and my heart races. How can he make me feel like a trapped animal and more alive than I have ever felt before?

“Bathe, and then we will eat.” He adds, pushing away from the door and taking off his cloak before hanging it over a chair next to the fire. He rests his hands on the back of the chair, gripping the wood. My mind strays back to the memory of his hands gripping me the night he told me about Edmund.

“With you here? Watching me?” I reply defiantly, raising an eyebrow.

“We’ve been on the road for ten days. Trust me when I say you want to look your best when you meet the king and queen.” His gaze leisurely travels down my body before meeting my gaze pressed in a sneer. “Lest they find you to be as truly savage as your kind’s nature.”

“What will it matter? Do you really think they’ll care what I look or smell like?” I snap in return, bitter at the constant reminder of my fate. I try to find comfort in my newly found determination in proving myself innocent but tired as I am. My persistence falters and my anxieties rise back to the surface.

“Sybil.” His voice holds a note of warning. I look up from his hands as he takes the few steps separating us. I tremble like a doe under the eyes of a predator as he deftly unclips the clasp holding my cloak together. It falls to the floor in a whoosh of wet wool. His rough, calloused fingers grip my chin, forcing my face up to meet his gaze. A flicker of confusion crosses his face, and I fight the urge to pull away. His look is intent, focused on me. I should fight, but just as I have before, countless times across our journey, I fall into that gaze, a familiar tug deep in my core towards him.

What am I doing? Why is it so hard to push him away? Unless he has an enchanting magic, I am unaware of…

A loud, unexpected knock at the door disrupts the silence, breaking the tension. Aramis releases his grip on my chin and steps away from me.

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