Stella
I glanced over my shoulder. Eric gave a reassuring nod. Behind him, wisps of sunrise kissed the horizon. Hints of soft pink spread, hiding the blinking stars.
Dampness gathered beneath every blink. My personal desires didn’t matter. My family no longer existed, nor could I be with the man I loved.
The mission became everything.
I’d told Bolin that I was leaving just days ago. His still features betrayed little emotion, but the feathered muscle in his jaw revealed his pain as much as tears did mine.
Fernando dismissed Eric to from his guard so he could accompany me. He did not ask me to stay. Something in the depths of his irises begged me not to leave, but he set me free.
I’d not seen our future queen since that fateful day where we’d discovered him wounded.
Saying yet another goodbye threatened to shatter my resolve, so I penned notes
and left them on my nightstand with a written request that they be dispersed to their named recipients.
“Let’s go,” I said.
The season change was coming. The North would already have snow, if Bolin’s geography lessons were accurate.
We should reach our destination before harsher weather descends, even without horses. Had I asked, Fernando would have suggested we borrow the beasts, but then I’d have to return them. It was better to have no ties.
A cool breeze chilled me as we made our way to the west gate. The sentries allowed us passage.
The thick iron bars closed with a heavy click.
I refused to look back.
Except my heart forced me to. The rising sun highlighted the metal spikes with pink and lavender. The sleeping villa stood beyond, hidden in shadows. Smoke curled from the kitchen’s chimney.
I ducked my head and clasped Eric’s proffered hand.
“To Damai,” he said.
“Yes.”
Bolin
Patrick placed a neatly folded letter beside me while I sipped my morning tea. The curlicues on the B and n gave the author away. Stella’s handwriting.
Patrick leaned against his cane. “This came for you from the king’s villa.”
I set my cup on the table. It made a high-pitched chink against the wood. My pulse quickened as I unfurled the note and scanned it.
Dear Bolin,
Thank you for everything.
I might never remember my past, but your kindness will stay with me forever.
Forgive me for not divulging this before, but I’ve decided to travel to the kingdom of Damai. At least this way, you’ll finish the book with Patrick and I can see where you came from. I only wish we had time to learn more about it.
I love you.
You’re the family I choose.
Stella
I muttered a curse as I refolded the paper with trembling hands.
“What’s wrong?” my husband asked.
“She’s going to Damai,” I blurted.
His eyes widened. “Alone?”
“That odd man I mentioned? The guard she healed? He’s accompanying her.”
Patrick’s features contorted, then he shook his head. “That’s madness. Is she aware of that?”
A harsh exhale pushed through my teeth. “I was teaching political studies for Astralind and a little for Lisaire, Trestaine, and the Northern Clans. I hadn’t touched on western or southern cultures yet.”
“Does her guard speak Damaian?”
I kept my features calm even as my heart rate climbed higher. “I don’t know.”
Patrick tugged my chin up toward him and he searched my expression. “We’re going after her.”
“But your leg-”
“Fuck it,” he spat. “You have to follow her, and I’m not losing you when I just got you back.”
A warm tingle ran through my entire body. I placed my palms on his face and kissed him hard. He melted against me.
“I love you,” I whispered roughly against his lips. “Now let’s catch up to our foolish healer.”
He nodded firmly, and we separated to pack and remove the stash of gold hidden under the bedroom floorboards.
We’d need two horses.
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