Page 97 of Heartbreak Prince

“And they may try again.” Lady Kaenan tightens the belt of her robe with all the determination of a captain gearing up for battle. “I will tell the kitchen to prepare a very early breakfast, something hearty and fortifying, and a great deal of strong black tea. Then we’ll send the prince on his way earlier than planned.”

“I’ll be part of the escort.” I keep my tone firm and calm. No room for argument.

The Lady exchanges a significant glance with her husband, as if they’ve already had a conversation on this very topic. He shrugs and leaves the room, patting my shoulder as he walks by.

Lady Kaenan takes a gold case from the pocket of her robes, plucks out a cigarette, and lights it with the ignition glyph on the smallest nail of her left hand.

Her silence unnerves me, because she has the authority to keep me here. Despite Vawn’s status as the king-to-be, she holds the real power in this castle.

I need confirmation from her, so I repeat my decision. “I’m going with him.”

Her lips pucker around the cigarette, and she blows out blue smoke with a knowing half-smile. “Of course you are.”

20

“Severin, I need to piss,” I announce.

“Again?”

“I drank a lot of tea this morning before we left the castle.”

“Perhaps you should drink less, so we can actually make decent progress on our journey.”

“You want me to be dehydrated? You want me to keel over and pass out on your back?”

“I don’t have a back,” says the carpet with forced patience. “I have a top and a bottom.”

“I’ve been a top and a bottom,” says Vawn.

A taut silence follows.

Abruptly I burst into laughter, long peals that bring tears to my eyes. “You bastard,” I gasp. “You’re going to make me piss my pants.”

“We wouldn’t want that. Carpet, we should land expeditiously.”

“Release the contents of your bladder on my beautiful surface, and I shall find some means of severing our link,” the carpet threatens me. “Stop laughing.”

“Really, darling, you should try to restrain yourself,” Vawn admonishes.

I shove him, and he jostles me with his shoulder. I’m not prepared for the impact, and it throws me so off balance that I nearly topple over the edge.

The carpet slants quickly to compensate, even as Vawn grabs my upper arm. The backs of his fingers graze the side of my breast, and the contact sends such a strong thrill through my body that I shake him off more violently than I should.

“That was unnecessary,” Vawn says in a haughty tone. “But if you want a shoving match, I can certainly indulge you. I won’t be saving you when you fall off, though.”

“Just… hush.”

“I don’t want to. And how dare you command your king.”

“I dare because you’re annoying me.”

“The two of you had better stop fighting,” Severin warns. “Or I swear I will take us straight back to Anyssir Castle. Or perhaps I’ll dump you into a convenient well or a refuse pit.”

“Our escort might take exception to that.” Vawn looks back over his shoulder at the contingent of castle guards riding along the border road. They’re quite a distance behind us, so far back that they occasionally disappear behind a hill or a bend in the road. Severin seems intent on proving that he’s much better and faster than a horse, even though no one denied his superior status.

“Down, please,” I beg the carpet again, and with a little more grumbling, he complies. I relieve myself quickly behind some bushes, then return to Severin. We’re aloft again before the riders can catch up to us.

Around midafternoon we pause for a meal and a rest. Though our carpet can fly for several hours at a stretch, it’s a good idea to let him recharge before we attempt the border crossing, since we have no idea how dangerous that will be. General Centune was supposed to smooth our way and provide us with extra protection, but with her betrayal comes the fear that the soldiers under her command might also be loyal to the Redemptive Authority rather than to the monarchy.