“Where am I going to escape on foot? I don’t even know where we are.”
She shrugged. “I’m sure you can figure it out. You’re smart.” She flung her thick, golden brown hair behind a shoulder and marched toward the rocks.
I followed, fuming. Was I to have no privacy on top of everything else? I walked behind the largest boulder and stared at Arabis with a raised eyebrow. She didn’t turn away.
“I can’t pee with you watching.”
She rolled her eyes and turned around. “Fine.”
I did my business as quickly as I could, feeling utterly humiliated. When we got back, Silver offered us strips of dried meat, fresh apple slices, a large chunk of cheese, and bread. I ate, discovering that the ride had stirred a ravenous hunger in me. I practically inhaled the food, enjoying every morsel. Even the apple was better than any variety I’d tasted at home.
The entire time that we sat under the shade of one of the trees, the prince stayed a distance away, eating by himself, then pacing in front of his horse while the animal pawed restlessly at the ground. They both reminded me of me yesterday, caged lions that saw no way out. He caught me watching and threw a nasty look in my direction.
Back at you, buddy.
“Is that where Mount Ruin is?” I asked, pointing toward the distant mountain range we seemed to be heading toward.
Kryn sputtered a laugh. “Not even close.” He was reclined against a tree, his long legs stretched before him as he chewed on a blade of grass.
“We’re heading toward the Summer Court first,” Jeondar said. “My home,” he added proudly.
“The Summer Court?” I echoed.
Jeondar nodded.
“How long will we stay there?”
“Kalyll has to pay his respects to the Summer King and discuss… matters of importance with him. It should only be a few days.”
A few days added to my sentence.Damn it!
“How long will it take to get to Mount Ruin from there?” I asked, fearing the answer.
“There’s no telling,” Silver offered. “Three weeks.”
Kryn huffed. “That’s if we even get there.”
“Shut up, Kryn,” Arabis barked. “We don’t need your negativity.”
“It’s not negativity, sweetheart. I’m a realist.”
“I’ve told you a thousand times not to call me sweetheart.” Arabis’s blue eyes flashed with annoyance.
Kryn smirked, as if satisfied that he’d made her angry.
Her eyes rolled upward, making her appear aggravated for letting him get to her.
A flash of quick movement caught my eye, and I glanced toward the prince. He had stepped a few yards away from his horse and was performing a set of movements that looked a lot like a martial arts form.
“Oh, no, he’s at it again,” Cylea said when she noticed him.
“At least he ate,” Arabis put in.
The prince went through a series of steps, an apparent dance. Every motion of his legs, arms, and hands was precise. After he struck each pose, he held it for a few seconds, then struck a new one. Despite myself, I couldn’t help but admire his grace and agility, which spoke of the many hours he must spend training. For the first time, I wondered how old he was. He looked to be between twenty-five and thirty, but I knew the Fae aged slowly after reaching maturity. For all I knew, he was hundreds of years old. He had to be in order to have legends written about him, didn’t he?
When he was done, he removed the heavy leather vest he wore over his shirt and cast it to the ground. The shirt followed, revealing more tattoos down the right side of his body that connected with the ones on his neck and face. The patterns were intricate and certainly done by a skilled artist.
Cylea wiggled her eyebrows. “So it’s one ofthosedays.”