Page 139 of Heartbreak Prince

“Aren’t you tired, Severin?” asks Vawn. “Don’t you think we should stop for a rest soon?”

“I feel quite energetic, actually,” replies Severin. “I can keep going for another few hours.”

“No,” Vawn says, in a deeper tone. “You can’t. You’re very, very tired. So we’re going to make a detour, remember?”

“Oh… yes, the detour. By the fates, I am dreadfully exhausted. I feel as though I might fall out of the sky at any moment.” Severin drops dramatically, and a tiny scream escapes me at the sudden loss of altitude.

“What is wrong with the two of you?” I exclaim.

“Time to stop for the night.” The carpet swerves eastward. “I’ve been smitten with a dreadful malaise. I shall only be able to fly for another… few minutes?”

“Half an hour,” snarls Vawn.

“Right. Half an hour.”

“I thought you were a flying map with infinite knowledge, including where certain places are,” Vawn says.

“Forgive me, your Majesty. Perhaps some of my threads got crossed after my corner was ripped off and then stitched back on, and then torn off again and re-woven. Or maybe after my tassel was clipped. Or perhaps when—”

“Must you torture me with a complete account of every discomfort you’ve endured?” Vawn groans. “That journey wasn’t always pleasant for us, either. At least you got to be in your case for parts of it. Like that horrible slide out of Zeletas, through the mountains.”

“Oh, that was terrifying.” I shrink closer to Vawn, and he wraps an arm around me.

Much as I enjoy being the new King’s notoriously dangerous bodyguard, I sometimes like to curl up against him and think about how he’s taller than me and stronger than me. Even if he’s shit at fighting, he can throw me around when I want him to, and I thoroughly enjoy it. Unfortunately we’ve been too busy and exhausted to do much… throwing.

I’m not sure why we’re stopping so early for the night, or why Vawn and the carpet are acting so strange about it. We were supposed to fly for another two hours, at least. I suppose we can make up the time tomorrow. But we’ll have to arrange a midday respite for Severin, in that case. A frown creases my forehead as I try to figure out how to adjust the schedule.

“You’re worrying about our arrival date,” Vawn says. “Don’t concern yourself. We aren’t expected until a full day later than I told you. Lady Kaenan and the others know we’re making a long stop on the way.”

“They do?”

He nods, but he refuses to say anything else, so I pass the time admiring my latest nail set and resisting the urge to ask him questions.

My nails are painted in the classic fashion, with a black base coat and white glyphs. Vawn and I thought it best to keep the discovery of the invisible glyph paint quiet for now, but word has already begun to leak into Belavrin society at all levels. It won’t be long before its existence is out in the open, and the revelation will change the entire landscape of glyph work.

The reality of invisible glyphs will also pose additional security risks, but I already have a few of the palace scientists investigating ways of detecting them. The researchers assure me that it can be done, either by applying some sort of non-erosive chemical to temporarily reveal the glyphs, or by shining a special kind of light over the nails.

As magical innovation increases, new discoveries will be made and new technologies will appear. It scares me a little, that headlong drop into the unknown, but this kingdom has already survived so much. We’ll adapt, and we’ll find ways to bring fairness and safety to the landscape of magic.

No matter what we do, there will always be people who take a new thing with excellent potential and use it for the very worst of purposes. We can’t ever create enough laws to prevent that. But maybe by working hard to make the kingdom a more just and equitable place to live, there will be fewer greedy sons of bitches who want to elevate themselves at the expense of everyone else.

“How weary I am,” drones Severin, gliding over a high hill. “Perhaps we will find a place to rest soon.”

“Alright, enough.” Vawn laughs ruefully. “She knows we’re up to something. You can stop.”

“A pity,” Severin replies. “I was so good at throwing her off the scent.”

He skims down a slope carpeted in lush spring grass. Here and there, trees dot the meadow, and the late afternoon sun throws their shadows in long, dark strips across the golden-green of the grass.

“Why, look, there’s an inn,” drawls the carpet, in a tone of extreme unsurprise. “How fortuitous.”

“It’s beautiful,” I breathe. The inn is built in the style of a cottage, but with the scope of a palace, several stories high, with countless balconies and a series of dormer windows along the roof. It’s surrounded by a garden of flowering trees and features three shimmering pools, perfect for a relaxing swim. Throughout the garden stand translucent pillars of crystal, each one containing a selection of unicorn hairs, glowing and twisting within. At night, they must look stunning.

“Those pillars remind me of the décor inside the Lyre & Vice,” I say.

“This place is owned by the same family, but it caters to a different clientele,” Vawn replies.

The inn boasts a west-facing porch with cushioned swings. Severin halts there, and we dismount. At first I think the two men on either side of the front door are simply attendants, but then I spot their glyphs and their weapons. This place has security, which relieves my mind a bit.