Page 3 of Obsidian Throne
Seven weekswithout hearing the wordLemmikkion his lips, without seeing his sardonic grin or his tousled black hair. Now, even just the sight of his kingdom was enough to make my stomach flutter with excitement.
I was nearly there now. Nearly to my new home. Nearly back to Evander.
Though that feeling morphed into something darker when I saw the soldiers set up at the border, the ones who most definitely were not from Bear, even if I had been expecting them. My hands clenched into fists on my lap when we heard the first guard call for us to stop.
The wheels grated along the loose stones of the mountain pass as we slowed our pace, readying ourselves for the border inspection the returning caravans had warned us about.
My vision turned crimson at the audacity of Iiro claiming any rights here. The bastard had declared himself king, and suddenly, he was brave enough to act as if he had a say in the comings and goings of Evander’s territory.
I tried to wipe the scowl from my face as my fingers went to the woolen hood of my cloak, pulling it lower. Socairans liked their women demure, something I was decidedly not feeling today.
Or ever, for that matter.
“Tiny, gorgeous girl, the aim is to blend in. Don’t draw attention to yourself like this,” Uncle Sai cautioned, pulling the hood back where it was.
“Ah, yes,” I agreed. “Blend in. Because that’s a simple feat for a cursed redheaded princess from Lochlann with a target on her back.”
“Aye, but wi’ the two o’ us around, they wilna be lookin’ at you anyways.” Uncle Cray tilted his chin proudly, grinning widely to display a row of golden teeth. “Yer only average compared tae yer handsome uncles.”
“Exactly,” added Sai. “And don’t forget to smile for the evil men.”
He pointed to my mouth, and I gave him a baring of teeth that was probably as striking as a deranged squirrel.
“That’s better, my child.” Sai laughed. “The Purloiners of the Perilous Plantation have a reputa--”
“Is there a purpose to this?” Callum interrupted, massaging his temples with his fingers.
The two men had pushed him to the very limits of his propriety and sanity on this month-long trek from Chridhe to Socair.
Mamá had sent me with her personal guard and a few of the people she trusted most, aside from our immediate family. Fortunately for me, not only was it safe, it was hard to stay in a bad mood around my thieving uncles.
They had been a rather welcome distraction from my own worried thoughts and the ridiculous chasm in my chest that my husband’s absence had left.
At least, during the day. At night, there was nothing to chase away the constant ache of Evander being gone. At night, I could still feel the ghost of his body over mine, his warm hands on my thighs, and his lips on my skin.
Stars.
Only a few more days.
“Aye,” Sai finally answered Callum, pulling me from my thoughts. “We need to have our stories straight, and we have no chance of that if we all give them a different name--”
“Ach, no Sai,” Cray interrupted. “I’ve told ye and I’ve told ye. We dinna have a name. We dinnaneeda name. So, stop tryin’ tae name us!” He shook his head, his words coming out in a bitter huff of air. “Faeries help us…” he muttered the last part mostly to himself.
Before anyone could respond, the carriage came to a stop, and I took a steadying breath. Harsh, heavily accented voices sounded all around us as each Lochlannian was asked to exit the carriages and line up along the mountain face whilethe goodswere inspected.
“Inspectin’ the goods, me arse!” Uncle Cray scoffed. “Ye better no’ be pilfering any of the Bear Laird’s tings. He’ll have me head an’ then I’ll come fer yers!”
I fought back a laugh at his threat while the guards only shook their heads, looking down their noses at him. Which was easy to do, considering he was at least a head shorter than my already minuscule height.
Taking my place in the line between Uncle Sai and Callum, I reminded myself to stay calm and less stabby.
Even if these men worked for Iiro and probably hated me as much as he did. Watching them rifle through our things and push around my people had my fingers itching for a weapon.
A few of their eyes raked over the strands of red hair that had escaped my hood, and I did my best to appear unbothered by it. Each time we had sent a caravan to Bear, we ensured that there were women around my height with varying degrees of red or curly hair to throw them off.
It should feel commonplace by now.
One of the Socairan soldiers in a deep purple uniform came over to speak with the head merchant next to Cray, asking questions about the nature of our visit, how long we intended to stay, and several other inquiries about the goods on our wagons.