Page 105 of Heartbreak Prince

“You’d think so. But in recent years, naturalists realized that the tundra voles have started eating the veins of blue clay which extend throughout the subsoil of Tularesk. They think this change in behavior was caused by overpopulation and a resulting food shortage. The tundra voles’ natural predator, the saber-tusked moharganth, has been hunted to extinction by the Tularesk nobility. Having a moharganth head—or several—mounted on the walls of one’s lodge is considered a sign of prosperity and good fortune.”

I touch the wide red tusks draped over the shoulders of Vawn’s furs. “These tusks—they’re designed to help the moharganth dig up voles, aren’t they?”

“Yes, along with its front claws. For generations, naturalists have been warning the Tularesk crown to stop the hunting of moharganth, and they’ve done nothing. Now the moharganth are entirely gone. Without that predator to keep the tundra voles in check, they’ve become much larger, some growing as big as a cottage. They’ve burrowed throughout the entire surface of Tularesk, breeding constantly, gobbling the blue clay, creating larger and larger tunnels beneath every town and forest in this kingdom.”

“I’ve never heard about any of this,” I say.

“You wouldn’t,” Vawn replies. “It’s a national embarrassment that the Tularesk royals don’t like to speak of, although it’s becoming rather public now. More and more sinkholes have opened up throughout Tularesk over the past two years, and it has only gotten worse in the last few months. Their entire country is destabilized. It’s quite literally collapsing, and they’re desperate to find somewhere to relocate their people.”

“And they want to move into Belavrin? Where would they even go?”

“My father offered them the only uninhabited land we have.”

“The Red Mountains,” I murmur. “That’s a death sentence, almost as bad as the one they’re currently facing.”

“That’s what they thought as well. In addition to their new glyph paint formula, they were offering my father a selection of glacier diamonds, the largest ever cut. He offered them the Red Mountains and… one or two other incentives.” Vawn clears his throat. “But the site wasn’t acceptable to them, since they would have to fight for every bit of land they reclaimed from the forest and work constantly to keep spidermaws and wimmets at bay. So the talks failed.”

“And now…”

“Now I need their army to take back Belavrin from the Redemptive Authority. Perhaps the Twins are desperate enough by now to accept the Red Mountains as the new home of their people. We must go back to the bargaining table and see.”

The new information makes a huge difference in the way I perceive Tularesk throughout the rest of our journey. This far north, there are no more forests, only fields of scrubby bushes that can survive the year-round chill. I spot several earthen buildings, or “barrow-gardens,” as Vawn calls them, where Tularesk farmers manage to grow limited crops within the insulated confines of the structures. Unfortunately, three of the barrow-gardens we pass have partly collapsed into sinkholes.

We pause in a village, and a few of the Tularesk soldiers dismount from their carpets to fetch warm buns and steaming tea from a bakehouse. Vawn and I stretch our legs and make a trip to a nearby outhouse. My heart pounds the whole time I’m relieving myself, because just a few dozen paces from where I sit lies the edge of an enormous sinkhole. Enemies, I can handle, but if the ground decides to give way, there won’t be much I can do about it.

When I leave the outhouse, I spot Vawn standing much too close to the sinkhole’s edge for my own personal comfort.

“Your Highness!” I pull down the high collar of my fur coat so he can hear me better. “Back away!”

When he doesn’t retreat from the brink, I approach him, trying to ignore the tremors in my limbs as I realize how deep the hole actually is.

Ever since I woke up in that crevasse near Weaver’s Canyon, my fear of heights has worsened. Riding the carpet doesn’t bother me, because if I fell, Severin would catch me—but this ground is not to be trusted.

“Look.” Vawn points to the far side of the sinkhole. “You can see the vole tunnels going into the ground there.”

“Vawn. Please.”

The strain in my voice catches his attention, and he turns. His silver eyes are breathtaking, framed by the black paint and the dark furs, with the pale gray sky behind him.

“Of course, lovely,” he reassures me. “We’ll go back to the carpets.”

As we trudge back to the road, I pull down my collar again and say sharply, “Why did you have me bring you to this kingdom? It’s just as dangerous as Belavrin.”

“In a different way, maybe,” he admits. “But I prefer the risk of a sinkhole to the threat of assassins.”

“I don’t.”

“We’ll be fine. Up you go, darling.” He offers his hand with a courtly flourish, and I allow him to help me onto the carpet.

“I love it when you let me treat you like a lady,” he murmurs, settling in at my side.

“Yet you seem to prefer my most unladylike behaviors,” I retort.

His eyes crinkle at the corners, but the humor quickly fades into something like regret. “We shouldn’t talk like that anymore among these people. I’m here for treaty negotiations, and I can’t be seen flirting with my bodyguard.”

“Of course.” I keep my voice light, as if his words don’t feel like a battering ram to my chest. “I’ve never enjoyed your flirting, anyway. It will be a relief not to endure it.”

A hint of pain sparks in his eyes, but he only nods and looks away.