Vixie was concerned about Tiern. He wasn’t at breakfast that morning, and he’d been awfully quiet since he’d arrived. He had to be worried about his brother, and missing him, as she was missing Aerity. But his entire being seemed to carry a darkness that had never been there before, and it had worsened after his conversation with Lord Alvi. She intended to find out what had stolen every morsel of his joy.
She had stopped trying to gain admittance to her father’s study. She knew Wyneth would tell her everything. So after breakfast she’d rushed to her chamber to change into riding clothes. The first winter cold had set in, so she donned a forest-green woolen hat with fur lining, a matching scarf, fingerless gloves, and a fitted riding jacket. She set off toward the guest chambers planning to ask Tiern to join her. She was wary of bringing up his brother, because, to be honest, she couldn’t understand why Paxton would up and leave for good. Even if he had fallen in love with Aerity, as Vixie suspected, it was still selfish for him to leave his family forever.
At the entrance to the guest hall, a maid was coming out of a room carrying a tray of dirty breakfast dishes.
“Is that Tiern Seabolt’s chamber?” Vixie asked her.
The older maid stopped at the sight of the princess and made an awkward curtsy with her hands full. “Aye, Your Highness, it certainly is.”
“Is he well?”
“Seems to be, aye.” The maid tilted her head with interest at the princess’s questions.
Vixie knew better than to try to enter his room on her own—it would bring a scandal upon the both of them and her parents.
“I need for you to fetch him, please. I’ll hold this.” Vixie tried to take the tray from the woman’s hands and had to pull harder than expected.
“But, Princess!” The woman sputtered in horror at the sight of Vixie holding the dishes.
“I’m fine, miss.” Vixie looked up and down the empty hallway. Only a bemused guard was watching. “Please let Mr. Seabolt know that he’ll need a coat.”
The woman wiped her hands down her apron before clasping them together nervously. “Very well, then.” She bustled to Tiern’s door and knocked. When it opened, Vixie couldn’t hear what they were saying. Tiern stuck his head out, and Vixie smiled at him, suddenly feeling foolish with the tray. His brow creased and he dropped his head. She heard him say, “One moment.”
The maid hurried back to Vixie and took the tray, looking relieved to have it in her own hands. “Shall I stay, Princess?”
“No, but thank you. The guard’s supervision will do.”
The maid stood there another moment, unsure, before giving a small bow and scuttling away.
Vixie pulled off her hat and pressed down the curls. After what felt like too long, Tiern’s door opened and he walked to her, unsmiling, holding a short winter coat over one arm and his bow and quiver in the other. He gave a small, formal bow and looked at her, waiting. A bit of enthusiasm left Vixie. He looked as put together as always—tall and lean, without a single wrinkle in his tunic or a hair out of place. It was the air around him that seemed to have changed. Dulled and still. And it made Vixie sad. She fiddled with the hat in her hands. Tiern set down his coat and weapons on the hall table. All the chatter she’d wanted to unleash simply died into one simple request.
“Ride with me?”
Avoiding her gaze, he wiped his hands down the front of his tunic. “I’m supposed to scout the royal lands with Lord Alvi.”
Vixie narrowed her eyes. He scouted with Lord Alvi every day between the morning briefing in the king’s office and lunchtime. He had nearly two hours until it was time to go. Seas alive, he was making excuses not to be near her!
“Have I offended you in some way, Tiern?”
His brown eyes became vibrant, and he shook his head. “Nay, Princess. You’re . . . as lovely a person as ever.”
He flushed and clenched his jaw, looking aside as if he regretted saying it.
“Then why in Eurona are you suddenly treating me as if I’m plague ridden?”
He glanced anxiously over her shoulder at the guard. In a low voice he replied, “I’m doing no such thing. I’m here for the safety of the kingdom, to scout and hunt, not for recreation. Have you forgotten you’re a princess and I’m a commoner?”
Vixie scoffed. That was his excuse? “I don’t care about that!”
“Perhaps not, but many do. It’s not proper for the two of us to gallivant around royal lands together while the kingdom is in turmoil.”
“What else am I to do?”
“Sh . . .” Tiern held out a hand and pressed it down, glancing at the guard again.
Vixie threw her arms out, refusing to be quiet. “Oh, I don’t give a swimming rat who hears! You are my friend, and there is no reason why we should sit about on our haunches, twiddling our thumbs and not speaking. How does that help the kingdom?”
Tiern’s hands went loosely to his hips, and he closed his eyes. Each word he said seemed to come out with reluctance. “Things have changed, Princess. Friendship is no longer on my mind. I’m sorry.”
His words hurt, though she couldn’t help but feel he was being evasive. Something else had to be going on here. “Open your eyes and tell me you don’t want to be friends, Tiern Seabolt.”
He opened his eyes, stood taller, swallowed hard, and said in choppy words, “I . . . don’t want to be friends.”
“Liar!” Vixie pointed at him and laughed. “That was a terrible lie. What is this about? Tell me!”
A truly worried look crossed his face, as if the conversation had taken a turn he hadn’t expected. He blinked, at a loss for words. And, seas, he was adorable when he was flustered. Vixie shoved the hat down over her ears and patted the top of her head.
“You’re taking a ride with me,” she said. “As your princess, I order you. Come along.”
Vixie turned and swept from the guest hall. The guard brought a hand up to scratch his lip, and she could have sworn he was covering a smile. Well, he could laugh all he wanted. This was nonsense.
Tiern followed, just as she knew he would. He shrugged the hooded coat over his shoulders, fastening it at his neck with a grumpy expression, then flung the quiver across his back. At the castle’s exit he mumbled, “Just a short ride, Vix. I mean, Princess Vixie.”
She was about to tell him to call her “Vix,” when the doors opened and they were hit with a blast of cold air. She pulled her hat down tighter and Tiern lifted his hood. Then they set off down the stone steps with two guards following.
The trees were nearly barren, clinging with lackluster energy to their last yellowed leaves. With a gust of wind, the large oak they were passing seemed to sigh and open its fingers, releasing a handful of leaves at them.
Vixie quickly tired of the silence between them. When they reached the shelter of the stables, she began readying Aerity’s horse for Tiern. The guards checked all the stalls, then went back to the entrance to stand watch.
“You’ll ride Doll,” she told him.
“Are you certain? I don’t mind using one of the guest horses.”
“It makes no difference.”
She felt his eyes on her as she worked. He shifted from one foot to the other before asking, “May I help?”
“I’m almost finished.” She smiled at him and patted Doll’s back. “There.”
He moved closer, reaching up to mount, and his arm grazed Vixie’s. She reached out and took hold of his forearm, whispering, “Wait.”
Tiern froze where he was, staring at the horse’s side. Vixie peeked at the guards, who could see only their faces over the tops of the stalls and were too far away to hear a whispered conversation.
The nearness of Tiern and the semiprivate feel of the stall made Vixie brazen, as if this might be her only opportunity. So many things went through her mind that she could say or ask. But what she finally blurted out made her face go hot.
“Have you ever been kissed?”
His head swung back to check for the guards before turning to Vixie. She had to be as red as a beet.
“Wh— I’m not sure this is a proper discussion. Shouldn’t you be readying your horse?”
Stubbornness burgeoned, overriding her initial embarrassment. “Yes or no?”
He lowered his arm from Doll and turned to face her. “Aye. I have. Twice. Now, let’s ride.” He tried to turn back, but she grabbed his arm again. A bout of jealousy burned her stomach, but her curiosity was stronger.
“Did you . . . enjoy it very much?”
Tiern let out a huff of low laughter. “Well, when you’re a young lad and a lass is willing to kiss you, what’s not to enjoy? Now, come on. Let’s go, Princess.”
This time he didn’t let her stop him. He mounted Doll and peered down where she still stood, staring up at him.
“Aren’t you curious whether or not I’ve been kissed?” she asked.
“Nay.” He took the reins and would not look at her. “Not one bit.”
A flare of anger heated her thoroughly, and she had to fight the urge to stamp her foot in a childish manner. Instead she marched out of his stall with her head up and entered the next stall, where Ruspin nudged her with his cool nose. She gave the horse a good scratch before saddling and mounting. She led Ruspin out of the stable, with Tiern just behind her.
One of the guards held up a hand.
“You can ride unguarded since the hunter is armed, but your father’s orders are to stay in sight of the castle and guards at all times. No entering the woods.”
Vixie nodded her understanding, thrilled that they wouldn’t be closely followed.
“We won’t be long,” Tiern told the guards. Vixie gave him a sideways glare before ushering Ruspin forward with a tap of her heels. She soaked in the clunk of hooves on cobblestones—one of her favorite sounds.
When they were out of earshot of the guards, she stated, “I haven’t been, you know.”
“Not my business,” Tiern replied.
“It could be your business if you wanted. . . .” She bit her bottom lip. Vixie didn’t know what had gotten into her. It was like the more uninterested he was, the greater need she had to push for his notice. It was backward, really, but she couldn’t help herself.
Tiern’s mouth was set in a hard line. “You’re being terribly forward, Princess. I doubt your parents would approve.”
Vixie gave a mirthless laugh. “We both know what I am to my parents. A pretty jewel in their treasure chest. And not the biggest or most valuable gem, either. Not worthy of being privy to the important information. Not the future queen.”
Tiern’s eyes widened as he took her in, and for half a moment she thought she saw sympathy there, or perhaps understanding. Just as quickly he was closed off again, turning his head to the path as they passed the west commons.
“Are you angry at your brother for leaving?” Vixie blurted.
Tiern shifted, his face showing a gamut of emotions. “Nay. Though I suppose I’m angry at the circumstances under which he had to leave.”
“Because Lord Alvi took the beast?”
Tiern slumped a bit, eyes glazing. “Aye. Along those lines.”
There. Right there in those words lay the mystery. Vixie stared at him, trying to figure out what piece of the puzzle she was missing. Along those lines.
“Why else did he go, then?”
Tiern gave a stiff shrug. “My brother was always a bit of a loner. I don’t pretend to fully understand him.”
She sensed more partial truths, and frustration bubbled.
“Why is it that nobody trusts me? You, Aerity, the rest of my family. Nobody thinks I’m capable of bearing the weight of the truth. I’m bloody tired of being given the mushroom treatment—kept in the dark and fed shite! Why is it? It’s because I let the Rocato woman go, isn’t it?” Her chin trembled as shame surged through her. How many days and nights had she spent reimagining that moment on the island when she had the woman at arrow point, when she let someone sneak up behind her? She’d been completely unaware. If only she had sensed the other person. She could have ended it all then and there, and proven herself to her parents and everyone who looked upon her as the silly, frivolous second daughter.
Tiern’s mouth popped open, and Vixie spurred her horse, moving ahead of him, hoping she wouldn’t cry.
“Vixie, wait!” Tiern trotted up beside her. “Stop, Princess. Please.”
She slowed, fidgeting with her gloves.
“Listen,” he said softly. “Paxton’s secrets are not mine to tell. But if ever I needed counsel, I know you are trustworthy. And brave. And able to help.” He clasped the back of his neck and winced, as if he’d said too much. And in that moment Vixie knew for certain Tiern was still inside that closed-off body, and he still cared for her. So what had changed? She couldn’t help but remember what he’d said . . . about the kisses, and that sour feeling of jealousy returned.
She peered up at him now, into his honest eyes.
“Tiern, when you returned home after the hunt, what happened to make your feelings toward me change? Did you . . . that is, was that when you kissed one of the lasses?”
“What?” He shook his head. “Nay. It has nothing to do with a lass. I’ve just had time to think and to see what’s happening in the lands. I realize now that a Lochlan princess should be with her own kind, even if it’s only for friendship.”
Vixie stared. “Own kind? We are both Lochlan. I don’t care about the class differences. My mother was a commoner, as I’m certain you know. These things did not seem to hinder you from my company during the hunt. I can’t understand why they should now.”
He looked to the side, his jaw locked. Vixie wished she could see what burdened him so. His face . . . he seemed almost to have aged, the way his brow was in a constant furrow of worry. She wanted to climb across the expanse between them and sit in his lap, erasing those lines with kisses.
The thought shook her and she spouted a nervous laugh.
“What?” Tiern asked, tilting his head in curiosity at her sudden outburst.
“Nothing.” Her heart pounded.
He stared at her curiously as a strange sound rang out overhead. Vixie and Tiern both turned toward the castle. There it was again—a guttural cawing. Voices yelled from afar.
“What in the depths?” Tiern whispered. Vixie held her breath, listening. Tiern whipped his bow over his head and had an arrow nocked before she could blink.
Again came the caw, like a grand bird in peril, closer now. And then above the stone turrets flew the most enormous bird Vixie had ever seen. She’d grown up with all manner of gulls, herons, and hawks, but nothing like this. Its wings spanned at least a dozen feet. When it swooped lower over the west commons, she saw with horror that its body was as large as her own, with talons that could shred a man.
Its feral eyes were directed at the two of them, its face like a bat’s. Vixie wanted to shriek, but air was stuck in her lungs, frozen in terror.
“Vixie, go!” Tiern shot an arrow, which narrowly arced just short of the bird as it took a sharp upward swoop. “To the castle, now! Tell your father!”
Tiern shot again, puncturing a wing. The bird’s pitying howl shot through Vixie, and she charged forward down the cobblestoned path, dodging guards and soldiers who were coming in her direction, swords and bows drawn. When she got to the castle entrance, she leaped from her horse and gave him a hard smack on the rump to send him back to the stables. “Go, Ruspin!”
A guard stood with the door wide, waving her frantically inside. “Your Highness!”
She panted for breath and dared to take one last look at the group of men on horseback, Tiern among them, as the great bird swooped down to attack. Men were knocked from their horses by its strong wings. The beast struggled against an onslaught of arrows, but managed to grab one of the men by his arm. Vixie gasped as the soldier was lifted high into the air, flailing. It was then that the princess released the piercing shriek she’d been holding in, and she sprinted up the castle steps.