Omens In Ashes

The sky stretched in endless beauty before her. The horizon as she flew away from the mountains and higher lands, flattening into rolling hills dotted with trees and the occasional farmstead. Bundled against the freezing bite of Frost, she peered over the top of her scarf which had been pulled to cover her nose and mouth. She scanned the ground below between the beats of the Volareans wings.

It was hard to put aside the memories of unrestrained passion. The echo of his kiss left her lips tingling. His touch had set her skin alight, she remembered with painful clarity the way he had run his fingers along her arms and down her back. The scent of him had intoxicated. Furs pressed against her spine she had given her whole heart. With Malcolm she had been freed. She held the memory close, unwilling to let it fade. After all, a memory was all that she would carry.

Soon, the edges of the sky would turn grey. The mountains behind her would be set afire with pinks and golds as the sun began its rapid descent. It was taking longer than she had expected to catch up to the Kings retinue. A lone Skyrider, silhouetted against the ice blue sky. Her hands flexed on the thick leather reins and she bent, stretching her back as she lent forward.

He had fallen asleep. How many times had they spent their desire, only to find it renewed? The small smile returned to her lips. It was a good memory to have. Though her heart ranged from weightless delight to despair and back again. There was nothing to fight. No argument she could make to the King. That power had been Malcolm’s alone, and he had tried. A small part of her screamed internally that he should have tried harder. But that voice was silenced. Why break herself, over and over for what could not be had? She had her memory; and he had his.

He had slept and she had dressed. Pressing a final kiss to the token he wore around his neck, she had collected each of her belongings with care. Elyna knew better than to leave any trace of herself behind. Every last hair tie, her scarf, her hat, any evidence of her existence in the room removed. But the memory they both would keep.

What was he doing now? Her thoughts drifted to the Wolf. Was he thinking about her? Did he regret what had passed between them. He hadn’t seemed to at the time, but Elyna held no illusions. He would have spent the last few days with his wife to be. The striking brunette and perfect Lady. Would he prefer Lady Penelope? Would he kiss her as though they were both drowning?

Elyna shook herself and inhaled the shock of freezing air. Was that something ahead? Perhaps a small group of travellers.

She had slipped silent from the Keep that night, unseen in the shadows. Returning to her rooms before the dawn she had pulled a pouch of herbs from her bag and returned to the kitchen. They led Yvan out for his walk once more, around the village. She had turned away from the window and returned to her room without a second look. Tea in hand she had sat on her bed and taken careful sips; Moon tea. To fall pregnant now would be worse than dangerous and irresponsible, it would be cruel.

Had she slept? Elyna didn’t remember. Emily had bounded into her room with the sunshine and delighted, thrown a newspaper onto her bed.

‘Uh!’ Elyna started, sitting up. Her eyes heavy with sleep she stared at her friend. ‘What?’ She demanded. Had the night before been a dream?

‘Look!’ Emily grinned with delight and pointed to the large announcement. In clear black ink. The expected marriage of the Duke of Mayce to Lady Elyna Burhan.

Elyna felt the blood leave her face. It was clear her Mother had made the announcement as quickly as humanly possible upon hearing the news. Every paper would proclaim the same. Elyna lay down again. Rolling onto her side and pulling the covers over her head. In many ways, the night before had been a nightmare. All her dreams unravelled.

‘Ely?’ Emily was atop her, pulling back the covers. ‘Ely aren't you happy? What’s wrong?’

She couldn’t breathe. Even as her friend stroked her hair. She started to cry and Emily wrapped her arms around her.

Eventually, she’d found the strength to explain that engagement had been broken. Emily had turned white with shock and then fury. The small blonde ready to knock sense into the King himself.

‘You’ll be okay…’ Emily promised, and helped her wipe tears away. ‘Did you not get any sleep at all? You’re so tired.’

Elyna shrugged, ‘how could I sleep? Knowing that everything just…’ she exhaled.

‘You’re better without him,’ Emily tried to lie and Elyna couldn’t help but smile.

The royal party had left the next day on 33rd as planned. Elyna had been in the mews, tending the bruised wing of a cranky Volarean. She watched the horses and carriages rolling away, from where she stood in the hayloft. She bit her lip, hard enough to draw blood. Wiped away her silent tears and returned to her work.

It was the next morning that a Skyrider appeared with the dawn. The man looked exhausted, half falling from his seat.

Emily and Elyna helped him steady himself, tending the mount and ensuring he was fed and given something hot to drink.

‘I have a missive to deliver to the King,’ he explained and produced a sealed packet of notes. Elyna didn’t need to see the writing along the side or the thick wax seals, to realise it was from Nejem. It smelt of sand.

‘He’s not here,’ the young women explained, ‘they departed yesterday.’

‘You should have passed them on the road?’ Elyna frowned.

The man stared at them aghast, ‘I must have missed them in the night!’ He moved to stand and found their hands on his shoulders, holding him down.

‘They can’t be more than a day’s flight away?’ Emily suggested and looked to the Volareans stabled in the mews.

‘I’ll go.’

Emily stared at her friend, ‘are you sure?’

‘I’ll go.’

—-

The missive was safely secured to the Volarean. Wrapped in a wax paper and strapped into a special bag, it wouldn’t fall to the ground. And so Elyna had found herself chasing the Kings’ retinue for most of the day and her thoughts had drifted.

It had taken longer than she had expected until she sighted them ahead. She spotted the horses and coaches at an Inn, just off the road to Andaris. Her heart tightened and she began her descent. The Volarean wheeled slowly down and she scanned the snow covered ground for a place to land.

She spotted the young boys, three of them beside a tree with red and orange leaves still. A number of guards stood nearby, but let the boys be. The tree was nearly two hundred paces from the Inn itself and the woman smiled to herself. Perhaps after a long journey, even Princes needed to let off steam.

There was movement in the Inns courtyard and she raised a hand in standard greeting, realising that she had been noticed. Still, her gaze returned to the boys and her heart nearly stopped beating. There was something wrong with the picture.

The tree was one she knew well, a native to Burhan it thrived in the foggy conditions and rarely grew beyond the borders of her land. Where it did grow, it grew beside water. Always with thick roots the size of her leg plunging into the liquid. If the tree was here, it was beside water. The boy’s weren’t standing on snow covered ground. They were standing on snow covered ice. Ice that would be thin around the roots. From so high above, she could just about see the outline of the lake they stood upon.

With a shout of warning she wheeled the Volarean to the side. The creature let out a screech that’s split the sky. Pressed flat to its back, she shouted for the boys to move away from the tree. Whether they heard her or not, her sudden dive towards the party has the guards rushing to grab the Princes. One started to shout about ice, and with relief she knew they had understood about the tree, the water and the unseen danger.

She saw Marcus pulled to one side, away from the ice. Noah had followed the guards, face pale with shock as the Volarean dropped from the sky and landed on the snow a few paces from where the boys had been. Elyna was already jumping from the back of the Volarean.

Her scarf was wrenched away from her mouth. Freed, it was caught by the wind and pulled away from her body as she ran. A ribbon of green it twisted through the air before coming to rest in the heavy snow.

She could see Vaughn, stood beside the roots, frozen with fear as the guards realised they had all pulled Marcus to safety and left Vaughn behind.

‘Climb the tree!’ Her shout came urgently as the boy looked down. She’d heard the same sharp crack of ice as she closed the distance between them. The snow had thinned where the boys had been standing, pulling at the heavy red leaves that still clung to the branches.

Vaughn looked up at her as she reached him. A frightened boy he stretched his arms toward her and she grabbed him. The ice shifted beneath her feet, but she was close enough now that she could shove the boy forward. Elyna pushed him towards the guard with a strength she didn’t recognise. She saw Vaughn safe in the man’s grasp, his eyes wide with fear as saw the ice slip away beneath her feet and she dropped.

Hand outstretched she clawed at the thick roots, trying to catch a hold as she fell into freezing water. The Volarean screamed, dancing on the bank of the lake before darting forward.

The cold hit like a hammer to the chest. Elyna knew the cold. She knew ice water. She knew not to allow herself the pained gasp for air that would only fill her lungs with liquid. She sank, body as stone until she kicked, fighting back to the surface. Her gloved hand closed around a root or thick grass and she struggled to rise. With every movement she felt more exhausted, felt the heat leaving her body. But she broke back through to the surface. The winged mount backing up like a horse with the Skyrider clinging to its reins for her life. She was pulled to the roots, where she found strength to wrap her arms around the thick gnarly bark. She didn’t have the strength to pull herself from the water. It was too cold. Lake water dropped from her hair and froze on her face. Tired. It had been a long flight. Her mind felt as though it was stuffed with wool. The bark pressed to her cheek, winters kiss biting the soft skin with its continued caress.

‘Message,’ she fought for consciousness, why was the sky so dark? ‘Message for the king.’ Heavy eyes closed, breath came in an erratic puff of mist. Was it still cold? She felt almost comfortable, everything willing her to sleep. She was so tired. Sleeping would be so easy. Her grip began to ease around the root and the woman started to slip back into the water.

“Am I keeping you from something?” Atler asked.

Malcolm blinked, green eyes fixed on the king. “I apologise, your majesty.” He sounded distant, far away.

Owen knocked Malcolm under the table with the back of his hand, across from where the king sat. “Everything all right?” He whispered.

“Sorry, I was somewhere else for a moment there,” Malcolm told him, “I’m listening, I promise.”

Malcolm watched the king, but his mind was elsewhere, reliving the night before. What was Elyna doing, he wondered, where would she be right now? He yawned and thumbed away a tired tear from his cheek. He would need to get more sleep tonight, he told himself, before they hit the road tomorrow.

“And what do you have to say for yourself?” Atler addressed him again. What had they been talking about, Malcolm wondered.

The knight hesitated, causing his brother to answer for him. “My brother was not aware an announcement would be made so soon,” Owen replied, “he knew nothing about the papers.”

“Honestly, how embarrassing for that poor girl,” Lily said.

Penelope hushed her mother. “Don’t,” she mouthed, “I feel simply awful for her.”

“Well,” Lily said, “it was more than even Caelin could hope for.”

Malcolm realised they were talking about his cancelled engagement to Elyna Burhan, which had been announced in the newspaper. He had tortured himself over the letter addressed to Elyna’s father, adding his heartfelt regret the morning before it had been sent, and his sincerest regards.

“You sent the letter?” Atler asked.

“Ye—.”

“I made sure of it,” Jared interjected, cutting Malcolm off.

Atler shook his head. “They should have asked for my blessing,” he said. “You are my son in law after all and the father of my grandchildren. I have a mind not to visit, come Bloom.”

Malcolm opened his mouth to speak, such promises had already been made to Lord Burhan.

“I know, I know,” Atler said. “Who knows, perhaps they will redeem themselves by offering a fleet of ships.”

Hector cleared his throat. Was the king considering negotiating with the Burhan line and undoing the engagement he had worked so hard to secure for his eldest child? “But, your majesty.”

Atler raised his hand to silence the man. “I too serve the kingdom, Lord Andaris. I must always do what is best for the kingdom if I am to expect my subjects to do the same.”

“Of course,” Hector agreed, “apologises, my king.”

Penelope turned to her mother and whispered something in a low, inaudible tone of voice. She squeezed her mother’s forearm as if to beg something of her in silence.

Lily spoke up again. “They won’t be able to match or better our offer,” she said, very matter-of-factly. “If his majesty requires ships, he shall have them.”

Atler smiled, pleased with himself.

Malcolm’s features pressed into something quite similar to a frown. The idea of being sold to the highest bidder did not bode well with him. What of his potential? It seemed Andaris recognised what an asset Mayce was. What a pity the king did not, Malcolm thought. Should he throw in his line of work and focus on the region? Could he buy his freedom? Not in the span of a season, that much he was sure of.

“Don’t worry, dear girl,” Atler said, addressing Penelope directly. “Once we return to the city, your engagement to the Duke will be announced on the royal notice board, leaving no room for doubt that this… boastful display,” he waved the newspaper, “is nothing more than conjecture.”

Lily and Hector Andaris shared a look and smiled. Malcolm straightened in his chair, was it hot inside? His black leather tabard was too tight all of the sudden. He looked across the table at his betrothed. She offered a shy, almost guilty smile. What must she think of him, squirming in front of them all.

“Your grace, would you mind giving me a tour of the grounds?” Penelope suggested.

Malcolm stared at her, hardly knowing what to say. “I’m not sure there will be time.”

“Nonsense!” Atler said, “you can go now. We won’t miss you too much. We just have the journey back to discuss. Hector believes he knows a shorter route.”

Malcolm rose from his seat. “Very well,” he said.


He escorted the lady to the stables, the pair shadowed by two of Hector’s guards. Malcolm led his horse from her stall and tied her to a post while he went to fetch a saddle.

“Oh no,” Penelope said, upon his return. “Do you not have a side saddle?”

“I’m afraid not,” Malcolm said. “It’s been some years since a lady stayed on the grounds. Most of my wife’s things were repurposed or sent back to her family. I believe her sisters took most of the horse gear.”

Penelope offered up a sad smile. “Yes,” she said, “of course… the king told us of your late wife on the journey here. She must have been a very courageous woman to marry a commoner.”

“I was a lucky man,” Malcolm said. He tried not to let the woman’s insult sting him.

“Imagine that,” she sighed, “from commoner to prince. You could have been king one day…”

To that Malcolm had no reply, other than to remind the lady he was no longer known by such a title.

“Perhaps it is my luck then,” she said, “were you still a prince, there would be no engagement between you and I.”

Malcolm saddled the horse and looked over the animal’s back to find Penelope was smiling at him again. Did she think herself lucky then, to be marrying him? “You have a beautiful smile,” he remarked, stuck for anything better to say. He could not admit to any such thing as luck, for he did not feel lucky to be engaged to the woman.

Penelope ran a hand along the mare’s neck, which came to rest upon Malcolm’s own. He pulled his hand away and excused himself, as if it had been he and not her, who had reached out without invitation.

“Can I help you up, my lady?”

“Please,” she said, cheeks pink with embarrassment.

Malcolm helped the woman up onto the horse and led her from the stable. The snow had stopped, but came down heavy overnight, covering the ground with a thick blanket. Malcolm stuck to the known paths, careful on his feet. The mare shivered and shook her head, mane whipped back and forth, excited to be free of her stall and the confined space of the stables.

“She looks as if she intends to roll. You don’t think she’ll roll, do you?” Penelope asked, tone thick with concern. “I like to watch my father's horses back home on the estate. They always put their heads down and shake when they intend to roll.”

“She won’t roll,” Malcolm assured her.

“What’s her name?”

“Red,” he answered.

“Red? How very common a name for a chestnut mare.” Penelope replied, speaking more so to herself than the man.

“Common man, common horse.” Malcolm teased.

“Oh I do hope you did not take offence earlier,” Penelope said, bashful once more. “I know you are anything but common, your grace.”

Malcolm stopped and looked back at the guards. He lowered his voice. “No need for flattery, Lady Andaris. I am not offended by the truth.”

Penelope frowned. “I’ve hurt you,” she said, “I see that now. Oh, and on our first outing too… Lord Krome, do forgive me.”

Malcolm smiled, Penelope seemed sincere enough. “Forgiven, forgotten.”

“Sometimes I come out with the strangest things,” she said. “But I’ve always admired you from afar, and that admiration has only grown in my time here at Mayce. Your boys are so well mannered and the estate so well kept. Do you remember, about three years ago, the masquerade my family put on? You danced with my mother, Lillian.”

Malcolm tried to cast his memory back to the event. “Yes,” he said, “there was a very fine ice sculpture of the god Lochren in the foyer.”

“That’s right!” She beamed.

“I remember thinking at the time that the floors were so well polished, they looked a lot like a glassy pond.”

Penelope grinned. “We had just finished upgrading the pillars with gold leaf.”

“And there were so many candles overhead that the walls looked as if they were on fire,” Malcolm added. “It was the most lavish affair.”

Penelope smiled at him and Malcolm realised he was smiling back. He cast his gaze aside and fixed his features into something more neutral. “Yes, I remember,” he said.

“When I saw you that night, you were dressed in burgundy leather with a gold sash and mask. I remember you were so tall and dark of hair, just as you are now. I asked my mother to dance with you—.”

“She asked me to remove my mask,” Malcolm said.

Penelope giggled. “And you said—.”

“You would only find another…”

Malcolm stopped in the lane and looked up at the woman to find she was watching him, hazel eyes trying to decipher the look he wore. “What did you mean by that?” She asked, “we all thought you were such a puzzle.”

Malcolm couldn’t help but smile, amused by it all. “Only that I’ve found one cannot truly be themselves in the presence of strangers. We all wear masks, sometimes even with friends.”

“I feel like I’ve lived my whole life around strangers,” Penelope said. “And how awful it must be for you to be engaged to one.”

A small knot formed at the centre of his brow. “Can I assume this is not something you want?” He asked.

“Your grace, I hope neither of us will ever have to assume in one another’s presence. I’d like to be honest with you and hope you will one day feel comfortable to be just as honest with me. But… to answer your question—.”

“Your grace,” one of the guards approached and pointed out a dark cloud creeping over the end of the range of mountains that framed Mayce. “Perhaps we should return to the keep.”

Malcolm found it difficult to pull his gaze away from Penelope all of the sudden, as if she had cast some kind of spell. He looked at the clouds and realised they were in for more snow. Malcolm helped the noblewoman down from the horse and ordered one of the guards to return the mare to the stables. “The stable boy, Tom, will take her from there,” he explained.

Penelope held her hands against the duke’s shoulders and stood looking up into his eyes. Malcolm glanced down between them, certain she was standing far closer than a stranger ought. When he met her gaze, she stood up on the tips of her toes and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. “With all my heart,” she said, “I have wanted to call you mine since that day. It is my hope that you allow me to take off the mask.”

Malcolm drew his hands down the length of her arms and took her hands in his. He offered a kind smile, but failed to find something to say.

“I know you must think me foolish,” she said.

“No,” he told her.

“No?”

“No.” Malcolm assured the woman. “I know something of desire.”

Penelope averted her gaze then, shy all of the sudden. “Forgive me, your grace, but I feel quite the fool for lavishing you with such open affection, which stands to be returned.”

“Consider it returned, my lady,” Malcolm said.

Penelope smiled. She threaded her arm with his own and tucked her free hand against his forearm. There were no more words shared between the two of them, nor promises made for a time and place they would next meet. He led her up the steps into the keep and there they parted ways. Penelope returned to her mother and handmaidens, all smiles and bird-like chatter, while Malcolm gave his excuses and retired to the library to meet with Jared and his brothers.


The trip down the mountain the following day was slow. Malcolm had opted to ride with his brothers and the rest of his company rather than share the king’s carriage with his boys and betrothed. They made camp in the foothills that night and rose before the sun the following morning. The snow was light but steady, falling on them most of the day. They had traversed the valley bordering the Wall of the Seven Kings and Warrick, following the route Hector had suggested.

Malcolm, along with the men and women under his banner, had journeyed ahead of where the king had chosen to stop and rest, seeing to it that the road ahead was clear. It was Jared who had recognised the familiar screech of a Volareon, and bid that they turn back to make sure everything was all right. When they arrived on scene, the king’s guards were rushing about to finish putting up a tent.

Jared galloped over to the Volareon they were trying to calm, and Malcolm, having spotted something in the snow, climbed down from his horse. “My boys?” He asked.

“Fine, your grace,” one of Hector’s men answered. “There was an accident with one of the Skyriders, a messenger for the king I believe.”

Malcolm bent to pick up the discarded scarf in the snow and frowned, did he recognise it?

“Malcolm!” Owen called. He had ridden ahead to get word of what had happened. “It’s Reyes! I think she’s hurt!”

Malcolm looked down at the green scarf in his hands and his heart sunk. What was the noblewoman doing this far from Mayce on her own? He ran towards the tent and was met at the door by Atler. “Be still,” he said, “tis just a girl. My healer will tend to her.”

“Your mastery, I beg you let me by.”

Atler held up a letter. “Intercepted from Nejem,” he said, “I need you to—.”

“Forgive me, my king.” Malcolm interrupted and went by the man.

Atler twisted, at a loss for words. “I—.”

Elyna’s hands were as cold as ice. Malcolm dropped her scarf and started peeling her clothes off. “Get a blanket!” He yelled.

He took off his own cloak and wrapped the near nude woman in it. Owen was at his side in an instant. “How can I help?” He asked.

“Tell Jared to summon his Jacadon.”

Owen nodded, flustered, and left the tent.

“Malcolm!” Atler said.

“How long has she been like this!” Malcolm demanded.

The king stuttered, “uh, since they pulled her out of the water. It can’t have been too long,” the king said.

Malcolm tried to calculate the time it had taken them to return to the campsite since Jared had heard the screech of Elyna’s Volareon. “That’s too long!” Malcolm said.

He undid his sword belt and let his weapons fall away.

“What in the world are you doing, my son?” Atler asked.

“Get the boys, round up the other guests and tell them to get in the carriage. Put as much distance between yourselves and the valley as you can. I don’t want them anywhere near that Jacadon.”

“Jacadon?” The king repeated.

“We need to get her somewhere warm now!”

“But this letter—.”

“Can wait!” Malcolm said.

Atler hesitated before leaving the tent. He ordered his guards back to their horses and climbed up into the carriage to make sure all of his guests and the princes were accounted for. The horses let out a nervous cry as they were jerked to attention. The area was cleared out, leaving only a handful of Malcolm’s bannermen behind.

Owen walked into the tent to find Malcolm shirtless, his arms wrapped around Elyna, holding her against his chest. “Did they manage to start a fire?” Malcolm asked.

“The wood is too wet,” Owen explained, “the snow seems to be worsening too.”

“Owen, would you wrap her legs?”

“Of course,” he said, jumping to action.

Malcolm closed his eyes, the veins in his arms and hands glowing white as he attempted to heal the woman. His magic found nothing to mend, proving it and the energy expended to be a wasted effort.

Jared stood outside, eyes closed, with Benjamin at his side. The tall, blonde knight held the lord as he meditated, trying to reach out with his mind and connect with his bonded dragon.

“Try and dry her hair as best you can with my tunic!” Malcolm said, “she must be frozen.”

Owen did as he was told, lifting the man’s tunic to Elyna’s hair to jostle the dark tresses through it as if it were a towel. He rubbed it hard against her head before squeezing the water from her hair. Malcolm rubbed Elyna’s arms and turned her head against his cheek to make sure she was still breathing.

“Her heartbeat feels faint,” he said.

“No… no, Elyna!” Owen cried, “wake up!”

“Don’t stop,” Malcolm said.

“What do we do?” Owen asked, “should we take her to Warrick?”

“Too far,” Malcolm told him, “it will have to be Mayce.”

The familiar low clicking sound of Jared’s Jacadon sounded overhead, before the beast roared, splitting the sky like thunder. Owen helped Malcolm wrap Elyna in his cloak before she was scooped up by the topless man and carried out of the tent.

“But you hate flying!” Owen called after him.

Malcolm didn’t answer, fear of the alternative far outweighed his own crippling anxiety.

The Jacadon touched down with a thump, Elyna’s Volareon long fled.

Jared greeted the dragon by lifting his hands to its face before he was helped up onto the saddle. Owen, not willing to get any closer, stood back to help keep their horses at hand. Benjamin helped Malcolm lift Elyna onto the dragon’s back.

“Are you coming with me?” Jared asked, “I told you I would get you on a dragon one day. I just never realised it would be your idea!”

Malcolm took hold of his friend’s hand and climbed up onto the beast. The dragon’s scales were coarse and hot, far hotter than he had imagined. He positioned Elyna between the two of them and wrestled his way into a tunic Benjamin had managed to find for him. Malcolm gripped the leather strap that hung from the back of the saddle as tight as he could, one arm holding Elyna upright against his form, facing him, the way he held his children when carrying them to bed.

“Close your eyes,” Jared said, “we’ll be there in no time!”

“Do you want us to ride back to Mayce?” Ben asked.

“Ride through the night if you must, just be safe, brother!” Malcolm called.

Benjamin cleared the area and watched as the dragon trotted to the edge of the lake and took to the air in a single bound.


It was some hours before Elyna awoke, safe and warm in a bed perhaps not so familiar to her with more light in the room. The fire in the corner of the room was ablaze. The smell of herbal tea hung in the air. There was a weight on the mattress about mid thigh where the Duke sat at her side, his hand holding hers. Elyna’s hair was wrapped in a towel and at different points along the length of her body, hot stones had been wrapped in linen and placed at her side to help warm her.

The keep was quiet, with most of the remaining staff and guests having retired to their beds for the evening. The cook had stayed up to prepare a meal, but Malcolm had not been in the mood to eat. Jared had not stayed but done as Malcolm had bid, taking one of the Volareons from the mews to hunt down Elyna’s missing mount. Only then would he carry on to catch up with the king and company, to see to it that the boys would make it home safe to the capital.

Malcolm blinked awake as Elyna stirred, had he drifted off where he sat? He hadn’t left her side since they had returned to the keep, other than to change. The knight gave the lady’s hand a gentle squeeze, as if to welcome her back to the land of the living. He smiled, relieved to find she had finally awoken.

“I know you didn’t miss me enough to throw yourself in a lake.” He teased, all affection as he doted on her. “Maybe next time you could just send a letter?” Malcolm tried not to grin and failed.

It was the most wonderful dream, all of her childhood fantasies come true. She was riding on the back of a dragon, enveloped by the sheer force and heat of the animal as the world fell far away below. Arms outstretched and fearless she tilted her head towards the sun. The Jacadon climbed through soft white clouds. The sky smelt of summer, fresh grass and meadow flowers. She could hear singing birds and the distant crash of waves. Steady arms wrapped around her waist and the woman smiled. Resting back against the man she turned enough to inhale the scent of him. It surrounded her. Mountain pine and snow, horsehair and a particular musk.

I’m here. Elyna… his voice sounded faded, distant. The woman frowned. Was the Jacadon growing too hot beneath her? Impossible. She raised one arm up above her head, stretching in languid comfort. The room was bright and warm, was it morning? Had she overslept the morning call in the barracks?

Her nose wrinkled as she blinked slowly, twisting to stare at the room as her vision cleared. This wasn’t the barracks. But then, the bed was far too comfortable to be the single cot in her assigned room.

Malcolm sat at her side, his fingers curled around her palm. His smile caused her heart to give a silly skip as she smiled back.

Jumping in a lake? Her brows drew together as memories crashed against her consciousness. The Lake, the ice!

‘Vaughn!’ The woman sat upright, panting as she sought the man before her. ‘Is he alright?!’ Scrambling forward, despite her state of various undress, she knelt. The towel falling from her hair to pool behind her. Gentle hands landed on either side of Malcolm’s face as she studied his features with rapid panic.

It was quick enough that she realised that the boy must be safe. Malcolm wouldn’t be here if there was any danger to his sons. As quickly as she had struggled to sit the woman sagged. Her sudden burst of energy like a lightning bolt that had vanished just as quickly. Crown bowed against the man’s shoulders, her hands dropped to his chest as she steadied herself. Eyes closed, Elyna drew an uneasy breath. Her thoughts tumbled and if she spoke now, it wouldn’t make much sense.

‘The boy’s were standing on thin ice. I don’t think anyone could see it from the ground,’ she spoke quietly, trying to bring sense and order to her thoughts and jumbled memories. ‘I tried to warn them, the guards grabbed Marcus. Noah ran...Vaughn…’ her chest felt tight, anger rising with her frustration. ‘He’s just a little boy,’ she murmured to herself before shaking her head. Long tresses falling over her shoulder before she straightened and sat back on her heels. The last of the blankets falling away from her. They had left Vaughn to save his brother. Tears burnt her eyes and she couldn’t look at the man before her.

‘I managed to reach him,’ the words came slower, ‘he must be alright. I got him to the guard.’ And then the ice had fallen away beneath her feet. By the Seven, what would they think of her? She had no business laying hands on the young prince.

The woman looked around the room, recognising it at last. Though it did little to ease her confusion. Mayce? How was she back in Mayce? Why was Malcolm here?

‘Do you need me to leave, I-I didn’t mean to fall asleep?’ She looked across at the man, still confused by exhaustion.

Elyna tried to rise sooner than she should have, finding that the quick motion had sapped her form of what little energy reserves she had. Malcolm reached out to catch her as she shuffled onto her knees and fell against him, too weak still from the time she had spent in the icy waters of the lake. His fingers ran down the length of her back, shocked by the warmth of her skin, as if they had a memory of the cold that had been there, the type that had caused the man to catch his breath when he had tried to warm her against his own frame. His free hand pinned damp hair behind her ear, how long would it take to dry, he wondered.

Malcolm lifted the blankets up against the woman’s shoulders, unsure if she was aware just how undressed she was. He imagined she was disorientated and not yet sure where she had found herself. Elyna shook her hair free as she sat back, retelling the sequence of events that had taken place. Malcolm was not surprised to hear that the guards had seen to it that Marcus was protected first, though his own heart ached for his youngest son.

The blankets had fallen away once more, and though grace and manner bid the man to look aside, Elyna’s conviction and passion of speech drew his eye. It seemed, however, that she could not meet his own. What despair he saw there, knitted at the centre of her brow. That she was so troubled by the incident, touched him, when Atler himself had chosen not to speak on the matter. What could have been in that letter, Malcolm wondered, that had been more important to the king than reporting on the well-being of his own grandson?

Eyes lifted to glance around the room, Elyna seemed to recognise where she was all of the sudden, and made her apologies for drifting off. Malcolm couldn’t quite suppress the overwhelming urge to kiss her then, and so, he did. The kiss was more than just a mere thank you to the woman who had saved his son’s life. It was a kiss laced with desire and need, there was an urgency to the heavy-handedness of his embrace and ease with which he had leaned in and made her mouth a captive of his own. Why was she apologising? He would never understand her, he thought.

There were unspoken rules of a love that was forbidden. Most importantly she should not outstay her welcome. She should slip away without fuss before discovery. She should ensure no trace of herself was left behind in his rooms. These three rules and others she had learnt. They were ingrained upon her heart and soul. Elyna had sworn after Yvan she would never embark on such a path again. But as she had told Malcolm, if all she was permitted was a night or season with him, she would take it. She would take it without regret.

He kissed her and she clung to him, as she had clung so desperately to the root of the tree. His kiss returned with ardent passion. Arms wrapped around the man she scooted closer. The exhaustion fell away like a cloud from the sky and her mind cleared. Awareness returned, like a faint tingling of pins and needles throughout her body. She was bare.

Her breath caught and the woman had to look down at herself to check. Yup, bare as the day she’d been born, blankets twisted around her waist where they had fallen around her. Her hair was still damp, but no longer icy. She should be a good noblewoman and cover up. Part of her wondered if he might prefer that...but then someone had undressed her.

‘How are we back in Mayce?’ She wondered aloud before looking up at the man once more. She searched his green eyes, hooded slightly with desire. A dragon? It would have been fastest...could that be true? She didn’t remember him stating any particular hatred of flying, or had he? He’d mentioned something? Perhaps Owen had told her, how his brother was terrified of flight.

Her thumb brushed over his cheek before slipping down to smooth along his lower lip.

‘You flew with me?’ She breathed in wonder, ‘all my girlhood dreams come true,’ a smile quirked the side of her mouth before her expression turned serious. Her breath was still uneven, from both their sudden passion and her own lack of strength. Still she moved onto her knees, careful to balance herself against his shoulders this time.

‘You were brave to do that,’ her mouth brushed his cheek before her kiss landed below his ear, teeth grazing the sensitive skin of his neck. ‘Such bravery deserves reward…’ her limbs trembled, still weak and the woman lay back slowly against the bed, small fingers curled around his tunic as she bid him to follow her. Elyna untucked her legs so that they extended beside the man, covered by the blankets he had provided. She realised that at least she still wore her undergarments, a small mercy.

There was something passionate and wild about the way Elyna kissed him, as if they had just both taken their last breath and only had this single moment left to share. It made his pulse quicken, thumping away in his neck. He threw his arms around the woman as she closed the space between them, indulging the quiet moment of forgotten promises and responsibility. As all things do, the kiss ended and Elyna pulled back, gaze pointed at her lap, suddenly aware of her state of dress or lack of.

“Yes, we flew,” he replied, though by the look on Malcolm’s face it seemed to be an experience he would prefer to forget.

Elyna rose up on her knees and Malcolm was quite sure that his heart had stopped at the sight of her exposed breasts, long, lean limbs and unruly hair. She was a feast for the eyes, one he couldn’t help but devour with a look.

As Elyna lay back on the bed, the look she gave him seemed to beg that he join her. He got up from the edge of the bed and freed his waist of the leather belt that hugged his long sleeved tunic. He shuffled his feet free of his boots and crawled onto the bed, bowing to kiss the woman as he moved over her.

“My reward is that you are still here, that you are safe,” he said.

Malcolm climbed under the covers and pulled the noblewoman into his arms, both to hold and keep her warm. He drew idle shapes with his fingers against the bare skin of her back and enjoyed the weight of holding her against his form, comforted by the sound of her breathing. Deep down, however, the man couldn’t help but feel unsettled by the thought that Elyna believed he required anything for his attentiveness and care for her welfare. There was no payment required in word or flesh, but he could not decide how to tell her that without fear of insulting her.

The beat of his heart quieted to an even, steady rhythm, far calmer than it had been a moment ago. He traced the length of her spine from neck to tail, causing his heart to skip as his fingers brushed over the silk of her remaining clothing. Malcolm lifted his hand to comb his fingers through her damp hair.

“You don’t have to go anywhere… it’s just us.”

Mesmerised by his movements, the Skyrider watched the deft and practised actions of his hands. His belt and boots shed, she tilted her head on the furs, wondering if he would bare flesh. Her own heart quickened at the prospect, racing hard it seemed to sting, uncomfortably. As though she had spent the day racing up and down a mountain side. Elyna shifted, easing the unwelcome sensation as she looked up at the man. He moved over her like a wolf examining its prey before he bowed. His kiss was gentle and undemanding, features softened and she closed her eyes. Perhaps not like prey. Perhaps he simply looked at her like a man who cared. Like a man who one day could have loved her.

Wrapped in his arms, it was harder to fight the pull of exhaustion. The warning that this day might have been her last. The light touch against her skin, left tiny shivers rippling beneath his fingertips. Heat followed the movements, as though he traced her body with the hot stones still wrapped within the bed.

Elyna turned to face the man, her forehead bowed against his chest. Even through the tunic he wore, she could hear the steady beat of his heart. Her arm lay over his side. She inhaled him, as though she could share his strength and chase away the weakness felt within her own bones.

She didn’t have to leave?

Her eyes stung, shamed by the relief such simple words gave her. Lashes brushed his tunic as she blinked quickly. Muscles eased slowly throughout her body and left her heavy against him. Her breath came slow and steady, rippling the fabric of his tunic.

‘Thank you, Malcolm,’ she looked up at him. Leaning back so that she could see his features by the firelight. ‘Thank you for saving me.’

A faint and bitter voice whispered that his life would have been easier if he had not. But it was easily dismissed. Instead, Elyna found the pull of sleep impossible to resist. Though her hand drifted, sliding beneath his tunic to brush against the bare skin of his hip as it rose above his breaches.

How long did she sleep? Elyna wasn’t sure if it were morning or night. She hadn’t dreamt any more, but slept deep and still within his arms. Malcolm still lay beside her, stirring as she moved to sit up. The woman bent to press a kiss against his cheek before slipping from the bed, careful not to pull the covers with her and leave him uncomfortable.

A large fur was pulled from the end of the bed where it had fallen away from their sleeping forms. She pulled it over her shoulders, smiling because it still trailed the floor as she walked, forcing her to bend and collect it in one hand like a ball gown. With unsteady feet she edged across the unfamiliar territory of his room.

It was still dark beyond the window, though if it was late at night or early morning the woman couldn’t tell. She listened for any telltale sounds of movements within the keep, or the smell of fresh baked bread from the kitchen. Nothing, no sign or signal of life. Maybe Malcolm had meant they truly were alone in the stone fortress. Elyna allowed herself a rueful smile, that couldn’t possibly be anything other than a fantasy.

The fire lay smothered beneath its own ash. She sank down before it, taking care to keep the fur at a safe distance as knelt sideways on the hearth rug. For a man as neat and organised as Malcolm, even in the dark she found the poker exactly where she had expected it to be. It was warm to her grip and extended easily as she stirred life into the fading embers and slowly added more wood. The flames danced in slow stretches before her, arching before they faded away. With a little light now, she could see heavy snow falling beyond the window and shuddered with the memory of cold.

She needed to dry her hair. It was far too long and damp at the base of her neck. How many time’s had she been tempted to take a knife to it herself, and shorten the dark tresses? Every season at least, some years every day during Blaze. Yvan had encouraged her rebellion, had been excited at the prospect of her looking older and more worldly. Her Mother would kill her. Lady’s had long hair.

Wrapped in the fur she pulled at the tangled locks to smooth them, brushing them with her fingers before the fire. Finally, they were dry enough and she pushed her hair so that it fell down her back. Tucking stray strands behind her ears. The fur had slipped, leaving her neck and shoulders bare. Firelight danced on her skin as she tucked the soft material under her arm, ensuring her breasts were covered at least. Even as she felt the fur slip further down her back and expose part of her spine. Her nose wrinkled, she was comfortable where she was sat. The fire was warm against her face and she was tempted to bask like a cat in its ruby glow. Yet, to maintain her decency she would have to move and gather the fur once more. Elyna turned to study the man on the bed.

Was he awake?

Their eyes met across the dimly lit room. How long had he been watching her? The woman stood, summoned to his side and returned carefully to the bed. Elyna slipped beneath the warm covers and arranged the fur she had worn, across the top of them both. An extra layer to trap their heat. Even with the fire burning gently, her breath threatened to fog as it was caught in the cool night air. The temperature beyond the window below freezing.

Careful, and still holding his gaze, she scooted closer. Then she tilted her head to the side, was he awake? Or only partially? It was hard to tell. A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth once more. The woman eased her lips over his. Her hands sank down over his tunic and slipped beneath the heavy fabric. Her thumbs traced the waistband of his breaches, fingers making slow work of the ties that held them in place. Her heart drummed an uneven beat, but she was determined to live and love without regret.

With her whole heart, she had believed their night a few days previous would be their last. Perhaps not. Perhaps they could both carry more memories through the season and beyond. Fastenings freed, the woman moved to gently kiss the man’s cheek, one hand stroking the dark locks of his hair as she brushed her lips against his jaw, his neck and found his collar beneath the tunic.

Questing fingers sought only to free him from the confines of his trousers, should he wish it. Seeking perhaps arousal that might match her own. Love making didn’t have to be strenuous, she knew she did not have the strength. But it could be sweet, and just as satisfying.

The events of the day before had been a fuel, tinder to the forest fire that was now no more than a bad dream, troubling the man, even in rest. While Malcolm knew that he was dreaming, there was something altogether fascinating about the way in which his mind recreated the events. Through all the anguish and disjointed chaos of his nightmare, that curiosity bid that he go on dreaming. Like any storm, the clouds and heavy rain soon passed, and the final image he saw in his dream was of her. Dark hair pulled back, perhaps standing in a fine dress, though he could not tell, for all he could see was that smile and those dark brown eyes. A sweet and secret smile, something deep and knowing, a smile for his eyes only.

Malcolm opened his eyes to find the walls awash with an orange glow, flickering low as if it rose up from the very floorboards. He looked to the source to find Elyna sat beside the fireplace, stoking the glowing embers she had managed to coax into flames once more. He blinked, heavy with sleep, and swallowed before wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. What time was it? He didn’t remember drifting off, not quite rested enough to leave the comfort of the bed, or perhaps just too comfortable to do so.

Elyna seemed to return in the blink of an eye. Had he lost time or drifted off again? She moved over him with a familiar ease and pulled the covers up over herself like a cloak before bending to kiss his cheek, jaw and neck. Her fingers were warm against his belly. An attempt to free him of his tunic, he wondered, mind foggy with sleep. Malcolm had propped himself up on an elbow only to be eased back into a position of rest by the woman’s soft kisses.

A kiss on the lips found him willing and as Elyna joined them in an achingly slow manner, Malcolm made his approval known with a low hum mid kiss. She was the definition of guilty pleasure. Everything in him screamed yes, while his conscience nagged at the back of his mind in a small, persistent voice. Duty, responsibility, loyalty. He was promised to Lady Andaris… but he had already given his heart to the girl from Burhan. If this was wrong, then why did it feel so right?

Time fell away in the throes of passion, sweet and steady as it was, without care or recognition. Their morals discarded as easily as their clothing, left them bare and entangled in one another beneath the warm covers. The fireplace was once again quiet, allowing a slight chill to creep into the room, stirring them from what little rest had been achieved. Malcolm had caught Elyna in an attempt to slip away and dress, only to drag her back to bed and take her once more. Waking to find her still there in his arms meant more to him than he had realised until it had been so.

Any stretch of revealed skin was kissed as he climbed across her form, seeking out his tunic and pants. As Malcolm got up out of bed, he pulled up his trousers and fixed his belt about his waist. He couldn’t even look at the woman without igniting his desire for her once more, and parting ways took everything within his power to do so. He departed with a longing kiss and promised to see her for brunch, encouraging Elyna to make full use of the room and keep. There was no telling where he had gotten to, but the servants found no reason to believe he had not spent the night in the bed that had been made up for him.


Breakfast came and went, followed by a brief lunch, but Malcolm was nowhere to be seen. The staff were very attentive of Elyna’s every want and need, encouraging her to rest while they took care of any chore she tried to summon by way of excuse, to leave the keep. One of them even went out to check with the Skyriders based in Mayce to confirm that her mount had returned later in the night, accompanied by one of Jared’s men, a scout who brought news of riders on the road.

It wasn’t until well after the hour of dinner that Malcolm returned, windswept and cheeks flushed red with the cold. He was closely followed by his brothers who, despite their exhaustion, were always able to find a smile for Elyna. Malcolm made his apologies for leaving Mayce without sending word of his decision. It seemed he too had gotten word of the riders on the road and decided to ride out to meet his brothers part way down the mountain track.

“How are you feeling, Reyes?” Owen asked.

Benjamin had been too busy shoveling food into his mouth to inquire.

“You look far better than we found you,” Owen said. “I can’t wait to get out of this riding gear and stew in a hot bath myself.”

Malcolm, who had also been served a plate, smiled at his brother. “Just make sure you don’t fall asleep in it.”

“I’m sure you’ll come to my rescue, brother.” Owen teased.

Ben scoffed. “Pah! He only came down the mountain today to see if his horse was all right.”

Malcolm laughed. “Damn, you got me.”

“See!” Ben said.

Owen smirked and leaned back in his chair. “Don’t worry, her legs are fresh and she will be ready for the journey back to the capital tomorrow.”

“Actually,” Malcolm said, hesitant of what his brothers might think, “I thought I might stay in Mayce a bit longer, just until Reyes feels herself again.”

“Oh,” Owen said, “of course. I didn’t mean to sound rude. I apologise. I just thought… you wouldn’t want to miss Yvan’s trial.”

Shit, Malcolm thought, his look echoing such. “I had completely forgotten.”

Benjamin put his fork down. “You forgot? How could you forget after working so hard to make sure they didn’t kill him outright?”

Malcolm blinked.

“He’s had a lot on his mind, haven’t you?” Owen tried to defend the man’s sudden bout of forgetfulness. “You’ve been very absent minded lately, Malcolm.” He then accused.

“Indeed,” Malcolm agreed. “There has been a lot to process this season.”


Following dinner, Malcolm and Ben both made their excuses, retiring early to wash and get a few chores done before bed. Owen was left at the table with Elyna, his plate empty, except for the brussel sprouts he refused to eat. He masked a yawn with the back of his hand, and explained that they had only gotten a couple of hours sleep during the night before they had decided to continue on to Mayce.

Owen fidgeted, as if there were something he wanted to say. He drummed his fingers against the tabletop in rapid succession before finally coming out with it. “He likes you, you know, dare I say… loves you. You wouldn’t see him get on a dragon for anyone else… not ever. Used to have the most awful nightmares about the things as a child, I think I told you?”

“I’m so sorry about the king’s arrangement between my brother and Lady Andaris… I think the two of you could have been quite happy. I don’t want to insult you, Rey—Lady Burhan, but if you weren’t too proud to accept the hand of a common man, then perhaps you would consider marrying me? I know I’m not my brother,” Owen said, his tone seeming to state that he had worked that out very early on in life, and tried to live up to the man’s reputation for just as long. “But some couples go into these things with far less than we have as friends.” Lady Andaris being the perfect example, Owen thought to himself, barely knowing his brother at all.

“We would probably never see one another,” Owen said, smiling. It seemed he was always smiling, whether happy or sad, or nervous. He fell quiet, Elyna had been kind to listen to him. The young man looked away then and pushed his chair back from the edge of the table. What was he thinking? What would Malcolm say! Should he have begged his brother's blessing first? He stood up and looked at her. “Sleep sweet, my lady.”

Stood at the window, her fingers rested on the stone surround. One that remained icy to the touch despite the warmth in the room. Worry held her upright, turned her insides to knots and made her stare into the bleak weather that surrounded the mountains.

Malcolm had departed their bed, or his bed, she corrected herself, in darkness. The woman had slept later than she had intended and wondered if the man was offended by her missing breakfast. Because he was gone. Where he was, or what he was doing, she didn’t know. Only dread turned slowly in the depths of body. Restless, she had summoned reasons to excuse herself and return to where she should be, with the Skyriders.

But even by noon, she had lost both the energy to depart the attentive care of the staff. She’d slept again, curled up in the chair beside the fireplace. She had tried to read, but struggled to focus on more than a few pages. She had paced until she felt dizzy, moving back and forth in the room. She wasn’t a prisoner within the walls, but found herself to reluctant to explore the Keep without Malcolm present. The staff had been kind enough to find clothes for the women, ones that she had found upon waking in the morning.

Dressed in a warm skirt of burgundy wool, a clean shirt and a knitted sweatshirt of warm brown, the woman pressed her fingertips to the glass. She leant forward until her nose left a mark in the condensation. In the last light of the day, she saw riders climbing through the village. With her feet stuffed hurriedly into boots she ran through the keep and down the stairs. Waiting impatiently at the door, with a number of staff who appeared ready to assist their master. The three brothers came in with the wind. She wanted to throw her arms around Malcolm, press kisses to his features and demand to know where he’d been. She didn’t know whether she wanted to hit him around the head, or welcome him as some kind of conquering hero. He was back, he was alright…and she stood still as a statue and gave the only greeting that was polite, a smile for the men before bowing her head appropriately. Her hands turned white, gripped tightly behind her back.

He was so formal, as was appropriate and Elyna followed the party silently into the dining room after being ushered along by one of the staff. Her footsteps were heavy and she regret not finding the time to tie her bootlaces. Still, it was hard not to get swept along by the conversation. With just the four of them in the dining room, she almost felt normal. How many evenings had she spent with Ben and Owen in Nejem? Speaking nonsense and drinking far too much? She ate slowly, careful not to fill her stomach. Despite her hunger it probably wasn’t wise after being so ill.

She drew fresh bread around the gravy on the plate, finishing her meal with small bites. Her gaze lifted to Malcolm as he suggested that he might remain in Mayce. Only his plans were swiftly undone. She swallowed her mouthful and reached for the glass of milk, washing away the aftertaste. Yvan’s trial. They had all forgotten, well…she had. The knots in her centre returned when Ben spoke, revealing part of the efforts Malcolm had put into saving their former Captain. Not for the first time, Elyna wondered if it were truly worth it. But she was only being selfish and found herself studying the wooden table. Her fingers traced the woodgrain, taking in the dips and swirls.

The Skyrider wasn’t surprised when Ben made his early departure, though couldn’t help but be disappointed that Malcolm left so swiftly. Perhaps, their closeness during the night had only been imagined. A need that had been satisfied. She forced a smile at the pair of them and looked across Owen. He seemed uncomfortable. About to make her own excuses to depart and retreat, Elyna hesitated. Had she ever seen the man so ill at ease?

His suggestion came as a shock. One that had her mouth falling open in surprise. Why did he speak so poorly of himself? Why did it matter so much to him, that he was a commoner? It mattered so little to her.

‘Owen,’ he moved to depart but she was on her feet. The woman closed the distance between them, her eyes searching his. He paused where he stood, feet firmly planted on the dining room floor. Elyna extended her hand to the man, reaching up to brush her fingers carefully through the front of his hair. ‘I…’ she drew a breath, unable to look away from his features. ‘You are a kind, honest and wonderful man,’ she told him quietly. ‘I could have been a lucky woman in accepting your offer…there are…’ she struggled for the words, though it was easier than talking to Malcolm. With Owen she didn’t feel the same burning attraction that clouded her thoughts. Owen, was a dear friend, a brother, a comrade in arms.

‘There are few people I trust,’ she admitted, ‘fewer still that I count as a friend…I…I suppose you would make the second,’ a small smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. ‘I can’t even deny that we might have found some happiness together. You know that my heart belongs to another, and yet you asked.’ Her gaze had dropped to their boots and she closed her eyes. ‘Which leads me to believe…that you find yourself in a similar position, that your heart belongs to one beyond your reach. Though I hope it’s not true…it’s a miserable existence.’ Elyna looked up then, searching his expression for any sign that she might be correct in her estimation.

The woman grimaced at her assumption of their shared pain. Her hand dropped to his shoulder before falling away to rest by her side. Head bowed she pushed her fingers through her loose hair, tugging it gently.

‘I cannot watch him marry another,’ she repeated the words she had said on the terrace. The words that had suddenly made everything so clear for her. Like pieces of a puzzle falling into place. ‘I can’t do it,’ it was hard to breathe whenever she thought about it. ‘If he feels…Even if he feels for me then- there is nothing that can be done.’ He had faced his nightmares in saving her life. Yet, even Mal couldn’t deny a King. She shook her head. Reminded again that she was selfish, for loving Malcolm after the engagement had been broken.

‘He deserves to find happiness. He…he deserves to build a life with his…with Lady Andaris,’ she couldn’t bring herself to say the word wife. Her lashes were heavy with unshed tears.

‘I’m leaving.’

Owen looked so alarmed that she shook her head and took his hand in hers.

‘Not immediately,’ she assured him softly, ‘not right now…but I can’t stay in Renmere. I’m going to go and see the world,’ she forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

Owen, not having expected to be stopped by the woman, turned to hear her out. He was taken aback by her assumption, which saw him relinquish control of his surprise for just a moment, long enough perhaps to give himself away. As he retook his composure, Owen straightened a little. He had not told anyone about his secret relationship with Avery, not his friends, not his brothers and certainly not Elyna. No, that would be too reckless. Avery had a reputation… a wife, a young family.

It was what Elyna said next, however, that really shocked the man. “Leaving!” He echoed.

Even as the woman assured him that it would not be sudden or without thought, Owen found that he was left with only more questions. “What about the Skyriders?” He asked, “what about…” the man stopped himself, shook his head and bit his tongue. He trusted Elyna knew, better than anyone, what was best for her.

“You don’t need to run away…” he told her, just in case no one else ever had. He squeezed her hand before crossing his arms.

At what point had Elyna developed such strong feelings for his brother, Owen wondered, sure it couldn’t have been the half dance they had shared or anything following their trip to Nejem. Had there ever been a moment he had suspected anything going on between the pair? No. Elyna had been with Yvan for almost as long as he had known her. What had changed? A single dance… was that all it took? Or was it more? Perhaps the woman just had a flair for men in positions of power, after all, Yvan had been their Captain before she had been aware that Malcolm was a Duke.

No… not Reyes, surely he knew her better than that, even if a small part of him said that the alternative made sense.

“He does,” Owen agreed, “my brother… he deserves happiness. Excuse me, Lady Burhan.”

Owen made his escape then, going in search of Malcolm. He checked the library, followed by the duke’s quarters. When he did not find him there, he inquired with one of the staff as to where his brother had gone.

“He keeps his own room, Ser, on the second floor in the guest wing.”

Owen thanked the woman and climbed the stairs to seek out the right room, taking the hall until he came across an open door. The room was flooded with firelight and fresh from the ensuite, Malcolm emerged wrapped in a towel. He started at the sight of Owen, then went to the fireplace to warm his bones.

“You surprised me, brother. What brings you here?” Malcolm asked.

Owen closed the door to speak in private.


About half an hour later, Benjamin entered the room. “What’s all of the fuss about?” He asked. “I can hear you from the room over.”

“If the lady has said no, then why is it so important I give you my blessing, Owen?” Malcolm asked.

Owen threw his arms up. “We’ve been over this! If you’re happy to marry Lady Andaris, why won’t you give me your blessing to marry Lady Burhan!”

“Because you’ve already told me she doesn’t want to marry you!” Malcolm replied.

Benjamin blinked.

“And if she had?” Owen countered.

“There is no if, Owen!”

Benjamin piped up then, “go on, Malcolm, I’m curious to know also.”

Malcolm dragged burly fingers through his hair in an act of frustration. “Because—.”

“Because what!” Owen demanded.

Malcolm pinned the man with a displeased look. “Will you let me speak?”

“I’m trying,” Owen said, “but you keep going in circles!”

Malcolm put his hands on his hips. He had slowly been dressing throughout the argument and now looked ready for bed. “I can’t give you my blessing because it would be a lie. I could not, in good faith, watch you marry Lady Burhan, nor be pleased by it.”

“Then you need to tell her that,” Owen said.

“Tell her what, exactly?” Malcolm asked.

“That you don’t want her to marry anyone else.”

“It’s not that simple, Owen—besides, I’m the one who is betrothed to another, not Elyna.”

“She’s going to leave Renmere,” Owen said.

Malcolm fell silent.

“Unless you do something, brother, you will lose her forever because she can’t watch you marry someone else, just as you could not see her take the hand of another,” Owen explained.

“My hands are tired, Owen. Would you defy your king?”

“What have you to lose?” Owen countered.

“Everything!” Malcolm said, “including my head if the king suspects any kind of betrayal or disregard for his wishes.”

“He’s right,” Benjamin agreed, “there’s a lot to lose here, Owen.”

“So you might not be a duke or a knight anymore,” Owen said, “at least you’d be free to choose what you do want.”

“Owen…” Ben warned, “just saying such is an affront to the king. Malcolm can’t just walk away from everything for a girl.”

“Love,” Owen said, “for love. She isn’t just some girl, Ben—he loves her.”

Benjamin leaned back against the door and it clicked closed once more.

You don’t have to run away…

Elyna had smiled at that, ‘but I think I’ll be really good at it…’ she replied. Her heart was somewhere in her throat, her chest left hollow without it. She smiled because it was true, and in a twisted way, kind of funny. All her life she’d been something of a failure, but having taken the decision to steer her own path the woman felt a confidence she’d never known.

Elyna had turned the plans over in her mind, she had answers for all of Owens' questions. Even if she was reluctant to share them. The less anyone knew, the less they would be able to stop her. She hadn’t wanted to share her plans with the man, but the alternative of having him believe she casually dismissed his proposal, was worth the risk.

However, before she had time to beg his silence, he was gone. There had been a finality to the man’s tone. The way he stood with his arms folded before dismissing her was a strong reminder of his brother. Owen agreed at least, that Malcolm deserved his chance at happiness. So she could only assume that he agreed with her decision to remove the obstacle that barred the way, herself.

Elyna stood quietly in the dining room for a moment, fingertips brushing against the table. One of the staff entered, surprised to see her and quickly made his apologies.

‘No, no,’ she smiled at the man. His white hair seemed to grow vertically from his head in wisps. If it wasn’t for the neatly trimmed beard and moustache he would have looked a wild man. ‘Please, let me help you?’ She pushed her chair back under and started to gather the plates.

The man approached hurriedly, assuring her that she should be resting. He lay the dishes across his arms, carrying far more than she had been able to.

‘Sleep well, mistress,’ he bid her and encouraged the woman to leave.

She liked to be busy, to be helpful. Elyna sighed but conceded, holding the door for the man as a final gesture before making the slow retreat to Malcolm’s room. The staff here were just as stubborn as their master.

It was strange to return to the man’s room without him present. She’d spent most of the day within the walls, but it was Malcolm’s space. When it was empty of his presence, she felt like an intruder. Even though everything had been done to ensure her comfort and the staff had been kind to a fault.

The fire was banked high, a fresh pile of wood stacked beside the hearth. The curtains were drawn, trapping heat with the room and a fresh bath steamed in the en-suite. Elyna drew back the curtains enough to peek at the heavy snow falling beyond the glass. Her brow drew in a frown, had it let since the night before? The storm was fierce and the clouds overhead looked thick and unwilling to move.

She bathed, taking care to keep her hair out of the water. Soaking muscles that were still tired and tense after being frozen. The woman slid down in the water, when was the next time she could bathe after all? Not until the Skyriders returned to Andaris.

Dried, she dressed in the bed clothes laid out. She curled up beneath the covers and watched the door to the room. His treatment had been polite. Kind, but distant as was correct. Elyna recognised the sinking feeling in her own chest as time moved slowly onward and the fire started to fade. A small part of her had hoped the man would visit his own rooms in the night, but the familiar voice of doubt told her coldly that he could not. Would not.

How many days had she spent alone in the apartment that Yvan rented, waiting. Waiting for him to visit, only for him to never appear. Or worse, the days she’d entertained herself, bored witless while he worked from his makeshift desk, promising that he would find time to spend with her. If she could only have a little more patience, a little more understanding of the demands put upon a busy man.

The blankets pulled over her head, the woman finally slept. Curled into a ball, disgusted by her own foolishness. She had already taken more than was fair from the man. There was nothing further that she could expect, nor should she. There was only herself to blame. Perhaps she had been too wanton. He had realised during the long journey that he preferred the attention of a true Lady. One who didn’t wake him when he was so tired and deserving of sleep.

Elyna rose before the dawn, scrubbed her face at the sink and dressed in her own clothes. Her breeches and tunic had been kindly collected from the barracks the day before. Her features are still pale. Eyes ringed with dark circles from an exhaustion that would take more than a single night of rest to resolve. Her hair was neatly plaited and curled at the nape of her neck. She pulled her woollen scarf into place slipped fro the room. She was due to be on shift with the ‘Riders. If she wasn’t fit to fly, she wanted to tell them in person. Besides, she needed her pack and the Moon Tea within it. It was not an errand she could share with the staff.

The keep was quiet, if anyone was up then they were probably in the kitchens preparing breakfast for the Duke and his brothers.

The white haired servant was shuffling down the corridor when he spotted her.

‘Mistress?’ He moved to try and help her.

Elyna shook her head with a faint smile, holding up her hands. ‘I’m just stretching my legs. I’ll be back before breakfast.’

The man hesitated but was in no position to stop her. She couldn’t deny the small thrill of stepping out into the snow. She tilted her face to the sky, grinning as she extended a tongue to catch one of the thick flakes. It tasted of ice. She’d always wanted to do that.

The journey back through the village took longer than it should. Thick snow that hadn’t yet been cleared came up to her knees. Arms outstretched she waded forward. Should she be feeling this tired?

Beyond the mountain line, the sky had started to grey. Bent against the wind she forced her weight against the barracks door and half fell into the common area as the latch gave.

‘Shit!’

The door slammed shut behind, pulled by the wind before she could turn to close it gently. She grimaced, unwilling to wake anyone who might still be sleeping.

A dark figure stood from one of the chairs. Tall and lean, still dressed in leathers from the ride back from their exterior base.

‘Captain?’ Elyna jumped, ‘my apologies, I didn’t see you-‘ Given her previous experiences with the man, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of apprehension.

The backhanded slap was enough to send her flying. Her vision went black, as she dropped, arms outstretched as she tried to break her fall, blinded by flashing lights that burst in front of her. She hit the nearest table, knees knocking against the chairs. She tasted blood and twisted, lifting her hands in defence as the man closed the distance between them.

‘Ser-!’ Her shout was cut off as her scarf was pulled tight against her neck.

‘A simple order Reyes!’ He hauled her back to her feet. ‘You were given a simple order! Stay away from the Duke, the Keep and his family!’

The woman kicked out at him, or tried. But her legs felt weak, unable to support her weight as she was shoved against the wall. She clawed at the pressure around her neck, gasping for air. More than frightened, she was confused. Why was he doing this? Some Captains took the punishment of disobedience more actively than others, but she had never come across a Captain who would punish with violence.

‘Please!’ She choked and he slammed her back again, like a fish he was trying to stun. Her ears roared with the sound of the Ocean. It was hard to make Cardel out against the rest of the room.

‘Where have you just been, Reyes?!’ He roared. It didn’t seem that he cared about waking the others.

Where was Emily? She thought desperately. Her fingers clawed at his hands, lacking their usual strength. He released his hold enough so that she could gasp.

‘The Keep!’ There was no point lying, ‘if you just-‘

He held her in place as the second hit landed. Stars burst once more. Was she going to throw up? Better not, it might make him angry.

Elyna moaned, falling forward, limp from shock.

‘It was a simple order!’ He released her, letting her fall at his feet. ‘Imagine my fury to learn that you’ve been attending parties with the family! That you’ve been flying over the countryside without authorisation; that you’ve been staying in their house!’

She didn’t have to imagine, she thought to herself. It was quite evident. He stood over her, and she heard a sound that was oddly familiar, but strange in the environment, slipping leather. Before she could work out what it meant, she was pulled back to her feet once more.

‘You know the original punishment for disobedience was a flogging?’ He hissed against her ear.

Elyna shuddered, powerless in his grip as he wrenched open the door and threw her out, into the snow.

‘Sir!’ The shout came from behind, a handful of Riders had tumbled down the stairs.

‘Sir, she’s had enough!’ It was Liam who pushed to the front.

Face in the frozen ground, Elyna pushed up. Her palms sinking through the snow as she struggled to find her feet. Leaving spots of blood on the virgin snow.

‘Three lashes,’ the belt strap moved back and forth as the Captain turned to the younger man, ‘one for each disobedience. Are you accepting them for Miss Reyes?’ He sneered before staring as Liam stripped the shirt from his back, pulling it over his head to toss aside.

‘Fine!’ It was both growl and challenge and the man was pushed against the wall of the barracks.

Elyna was helped up by Ona, and found herself clinging to the woman as she was led stumbling inside and back to the warmth. She was shaking, flinching as the sound of each lash landed with a snap.

‘Come on,’ Ona ushered her into her room, ‘get cleaned up, best be out of his sight for a few hours...’

‘Liam...’ Elyna couldn’t quite let go of the woman.

‘Liam will be just fine,’ Ona stood to collect the wooden bowl from the table. The tall woman opened the window, flinching as a blast of icy air rolled in with a flurry of snow. She scooped handfuls of the white powder into the bowl before dropping back beside Elyna on the bed.

‘Let’s get a good look at you then,’ the woman held her face gently, moving it from side to side as she examined the damage. ‘Hmm,’ Ona shrugged and Elyna closed her eyes as the woman lifted a damp cloth to start cleaning away the blood and dirt. She sat as still as she could as the older woman worked, trying hard not to flinch.

‘It’s not so bad,’ Ona murmured, intent on her work. ‘Split lip, couple of bruises…he’s done worse.’

Elyna stared at the woman who offered her a handful of ice, encouraging her to put it against her face. Her head throbbed, some of the stars still dancing on the edge of her vision. There was a rumbling noise, the upper floor shaking as Liam stomped past the open door. The blonde paused to peer in. The man offered a smile, that was half-grimace.

‘Just make sure Emily knows we’ve not been up to anything kinky together,’ he teased and vanished down the hallway, snow-soaked shirt in hand. Elyna stared at the four red welts across his back. Although it didn’t look as though the skin had been broken, they would bruise.

‘Worse?’ She exhaled, ‘how long have you served under him?’

‘Ten years, now hold still…’ Ona pressed her fingertips to the edge of Elyna face. As though a candle had been lit beside her skin, the woman found her pulling away from the gentle warmth and light as it flickered. Only to find Ona still held her chin in place. ‘I’m just taking the worst of the bruising away,’ the woman murmured and Elyna hardly dared to move. Magic? Magic was illegal unless by a licensed person. It was against the Creed of Seven.

Ona released her face and laughed at her expression, ‘I have a permit,’ she rolled her eyes, ‘I’m a fully licensed healer with the ‘Riders’

Elyna drew a breath. The stars had stopped and the ache that had been spreading through her jaw and left ear had faded. She touched her own hand to the skin and found it tender. ‘Ten years?’ She murmured, ‘did he ever?’

Ona touched a finger to a thin scar above her left eyebrow. ‘Skyriders are often isolated. We travel to the places no one else can reach, or would want to. Discipline is important, and Captains discipline in a manner they feel appropriate. We’re soldiers first, Reyes. We serve.’

‘I know,’ Elyna looked up at the woman as she stood. Ona had shockingly bright red hair, but it was cut short, just about curling under her ears. Her face was thin, pointed and she had pale green eyes with impressive crows feet. In her mid-thirties, she was an experienced ‘Rider and Elyna knew to respect her opinion.

‘Out of sight?’ Elyna blinked, just about able to think through her confusion. She rubbed her temple gently.

‘You’ve had your punishment. You don’t need to fear more.’ Ona extended an arm to close the window. ‘He has a wicked temper, but what is done is done. Besides, he’ll be going back down the mountain with supplies for the cave before nightfall.’

‘He’s going back again?’ Elyna was surprised. Surely the Captain was due some respite in the village after days in the snow.

‘He wants to be there for the crew,’ Ona explained. ‘It’s hard to believe anything can travel through the snow right now. The storm has cut us off, by this evening the Volarean will be grounded for a few days.’

Elyna nodded slowly, ‘I’m due in the next shift in the cave,’ she moved to stand only to be pushed back down to the bed.

‘Can you fly?’ Ona demanded.

‘I-‘

‘Can you? Do you have enough strength to fly? Because you look like shite.’

Elyna studied her hands, turning over the melted snow that looked more like an icicle. She touched her tongue to the split in her lip and winced. No, she wasn’t strong enough to fly. Her legs still felt like jelly.

‘You fly before you’re fit, and you’re a danger to everyone around you,’ Ona warned. ‘Rest.’

‘I’ve spent the last two days in bed!’ Elyna looked up as she protested.

‘How did you end up sleeping in the Keep anyway?’ Ona lent back against the table, perching upon it.

Elyna sighed, Ona was her superior officer, second only to the Captain. She explained about the messenger for the King. A man Ona explained was also resting up in the barracks. She explained about the Princes and the ice, and waking up in the Keep. Ona said nothing.

‘I came back as soon as I could, I knew I couldn’t fly today.’

‘Sounds like you should still be there,’ she scolded gently. ‘They have better fires to keep you warm. You need time to recover ‘Rider.’

‘But the Captain…’

‘I’ll explain it to the Captain. Your body has been through enough. Listen to me again, you, need, rest,’ she punctuated each word with a wave of her finger. ‘And what about the party? The Aurora?’

‘Lord Owen is a friend,’ Elyna pushed her hands through her hair, ‘he saw me and pulled me along. I served with him and Lord Benjamin in Nejem for two seasons this year.’

‘They’re your crew?’

Elyna nodded, ‘its hard to say no to any of those brothers when they’re pulling you along.’

‘All three, no wonder you look so tired,’ Ona teased.

Elyna stared at the woman, brow drawn in confusion before she was on her feet. Face red with shock and then horror, ‘n-no! How could you-‘

Ona was laughing, ‘well from your expression alone I can tell it’s not true.’ She chuckled. ‘Though you’re more my type than they are, I have to admit they’re easy on the eyes. Venora’s kiss, your acting like some prissy noblewoman at the suggestion!’

Elyna could only stare, she wet dry lips. ‘I am.’

Ona rolled to her feet before looking at her flatly. ‘That’s not funny. That’s not a joke you should make.’

‘It not a joke.’ Elyna met the woman’s eyes. She shuddered but stood still. The colour drained from Ona’s features.

‘I’m Lady Elyna Burhan,’ Elyna explained softly. She turned then, with shaking hands she stuffed her belongings into her bag.

‘Why didn’t we know?’ Ona demanded, trying to keep her temper.

‘I was forbidden to tell you,’ Elyna struggled to close the strap on her bag. But who knew who else her Mother had told? She drew a breath and straightened. ‘I’ll be back once I’m fit to fly, Ser.’

The return to the Keep seemed to take an age. Her feet were heavy, weighted down by the snow and the pack that she carried. Her face was mottled with bruises along the left side, coloured green and yellow the burst like flowers in a summer meadow. Her lip had split open again, she could taste blood as she walked and tried to ignore the stinging sensation.

Her mind turned in circles, had she done the right thing in telling Ona who she was? Was there any point pretending she was anything other than noble now? She felt sick, exhausted and still unsteady on her feet. She dreaded being seen by Malcolm, Owen or Ben, sure that any of her companions would have a strong opinion about what had happened. Yet, she couldn’t avoid them forever. She didn’t want to.

Did it make her weak, to return to the house of a big strong man? Did it mean she couldn’t fight her own battles, that she wasn’t strong enough? Maybe she wasn’t fit to be a Skyrider after all. She slipped through the main door of the Keep and stood for a moment in the hallway. She could smell breakfast and her stomach turned, although she couldn’t hear anyone and guessed the meal was over.

With careful steps the woman made her way up the stairs, back to Malcolms room and set the bag down beside the door. She stood for a moment, lost in the centre and turned around. What now? She didn’t risk looking in the mirror and closed her eyes.

A restless night had caused the duke to lie in, too tired and miserable to drag himself from the warmth of his bed. This, after all, would be his last comfortable night's rest before his return to the capital. Most storms seemed to start in the ocean south of Renmere and linger whenever they hit Mayce, but this storm was different. It had started in the mountains and chosen to remain there. Malcolm could hear the howling wind, which only made him want to bury himself deeper in the covers. The snowfall hadn’t stopped since the day before when he had gone down the mountain to meet his brothers on the road. Even then the snow that had fallen had proven difficult to traverse.

Soon enough, Malcolm’s hunger got the better of him and, sick of keeping his rumbling stomach for company, he dressed and left his temporary quarters to join the other guests in the dining room. He found Ben and Owen sitting with near-empty plates and offered up a confused look. Where was Lady Burhan? Had she already eaten?

“Is it just the three of us for breakfast then?” Malcolm asked, aware that the first light of dawn had struck over an hour ago.

“Just you,” Owen corrected him, “we are finished with our meals.”

“Then I should not expect your company?” Malcolm asked.

“Do you still plan to make us ride down that mountain side today?” Benjamin countered.

“If we want to be back in the capital for Yvan’s trial, yes.”

“Then you’re on your own,” Owen said, and rose from his chair to depart.

“Have either of you seen Lady Burhan?” Malcolm asked.

“Not yet,” Ben said. “But knowing her, she probably got up before any of us.” He stacked his knife and fork on his plate then and followed after Owen, who had left without saying another word.

Brow furrowed, he wondered what could be keeping her. The duke ate his breakfast in peace before venturing upstairs to his room, the one Elyna had occupied for the last two nights, and knocked on the door. When no answer came a second time, he let himself in to find the bed made and everything left in its rightful place, as if she had never been there. There was no note to mark her absence or when she planned to return and, after checking the ensuite, Malcolm was quite sure she must have left to do a few chores.

The knight went about gathering a few of his own things from the nightstand and dresser drawers. He packed a light bag with everything he intended to take with him on the road back to Andaris and walked down the hall in search of his brothers.

Benjamin was standing by the window, looking out at the storm. “I don’t think it’s safe to travel,” he said. “I know we’ve risked it a few times in the past, but the Captain,” he sighed. Ben turned to face Malcolm. “When did he ever stick his neck out for any of us?”

Malcolm leaned against the doorframe, pack strap in hand, the weight of the sack carried over his shoulder. “I’ll go alone if I have to.”

“You know I can’t let you do that,” Ben said.

Owen joined them then. “Why don’t you send a letter,” he suggested. “You could have Jared vote on your behalf. He’s in the capital, is he not?”

Malcolm nodded. “That might be a better option, you’re right.”

Owen smiled. “Good, I was hoping for a little extra down time. I’m sure our new captain won’t mind, aye Ben?”

Benjamin winked. “He’s probably just as happy as we are to sit around and grow fat for a while.”

“Not for me,” Malcolm said. “I've got a wedding to attend this summer.”

Owen scoffed.

“I can’t disobey the king,” Malcolm explained. “There’s no point pretending I have any other option.”

Owen frowned. “I know,” he said, “I’m sorry if our talk last night made things more difficult than they need be. Forgive me?”

“Everything happens for a reason,” Benjamin offered, “perhaps we can make it a double wedding?”

Malcolm grinned. “Yes, Ben, it’s high time you made an honest woman of Anna.”

“She’s got to catch me first.” Benjamin teased.

Owen smirked at that.

Malcolm smiled. “I better get this stuff away then. Two days,” he said, “let’s hope the storm has passed by then.”

“Ten days?” Owen echoed, as if he hadn’t heard the man right. He rubbed his hands together playfully. “I hope so.”


Malcolm made the choice to return to his room with the intention of unpacking the bag he had planned to travel to the capital with. Not having expected to find anyone in the room, he was startled by the sight of Elyna’s bag, left just inside the door. A quick glance was all he saw of the woman before he was begging her pardon.

“I’m so sorry!” He said, “I should have knocked.”

Malcolm stood with his gaze pointed at his feet, his pack hanging an inch from the ground. “I had meant to return some things but I will come back once you’re recovered and done with the room.”

The knight was just about to excuse himself and leave when he chose to ask. “You weren’t at breakfast, is everything all right?” That was when he noticed the mottled bruising on the left side of Elyna’s face. “By the seven!” Malcolm said, shocked even more now than he had been to walk in without announcing himself first. “What happened!”

Elyna wanted to find Malcolm. Filled with a restless and nervous energy she paced back and forth across the rug. Where would he be? She couldn’t exactly wander through the Keep in search of the man, who was entitled to his own privacy. And she couldn’t go out looking like this.

She examined herself carefully in the mirror. Her clothes were damp and chilled from the snow, the collar of her tunic coated with blood from her lip. Carefully, she peeled the fabric away from her skin, pulling it over her head. The tunic and trousers were set beside the fire to dry at least. Fresh, borrowed clothes had been set out neatly for her the day before and so she stepped into the long green skirt. With her back to the door. She fastened the ties around her waist before smoothing the warm wool against her legs.

The door opened and she turned in surprise. Her lips parted, she couldn’t help but smile at the man’s embarrassment. Elyna extended a hand to pulled the shirt from the bed. The soft linen slipped over her torso and fell around her arms.

‘You’ve seen me in far less,’ she spoke softly, though her tone was amused. For the briefest moment she had forgotten the Captain and the bruises that marked her features. She has forgotten the pain and the shame that accompanied it. Until the man managed to look up.

It was hard to meet his gaze. Without fastening the ties of her borrowed shirt, Elyna crossed the room with rapid strides and threw herself into the man’s arms. She wrapped her own limbs around him, burying her face in his shoulder. Trust was so hard won and so easily lost. But she trusted this man. In his embrace she felt a safety that she had never known. Shivering, despite the well banked fire and dry clothes the woman closed her eyes. He deserved answers.

Elyna drew a hesitant breath and withdrew enough to speak. Though not enough that air could pass between their bodies. Her gaze on the carpet, the woman struggled.

‘My Captain felt I had been disobedient,’ she explained quietly, ‘in accepting your hospitality.’ Elyna closed her eyes, the memory quick to return and beat her anew. ‘He was going to flog me...Liam took the whip instead.’ The words were barely a whisper. She shuddered and her arms dropped from around the man. She wrapped them around her chest.

‘I’ve told my Sargent who I am...so he’ll know now. I...I...I tried to explain, I tried to - he wouldn’t listen. He didn’t want to hear.’ Elyna rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes to remove the large hit tears that had formed. Her hands fell to Malcolm’s arms, she missed his embrace already and regretted moving back. She lingered, longing to be wrapped up against him once more.

Malcolm looked flushed at the woman’s words, did she think he had forgotten? Never. He closed the door to ensure no one else heard and as Elyna approached, his pack was dropped down alongside her own. He embraced her, sure something had happened in the time she had been out of the keep. This couldn’t have possibly happened under his roof, could it?

Elyna explained the actions of her captain and his reluctance to hear her out. She pulled away, putting her arms around herself and he frowned, a tight knot tied in the skin at the centre of his brow. How could anyone do this to her? It wasn’t just that she was a noble, he thought, but a genuine, lovely person.

He put his arms around the woman and pulled her close, whether it was something she desired or not, he could not help but want to hold her near after hearing such words and seeing the damage for himself up close. Rage simmered within the man, tempered only by his concern for her.

Malcolm lifted his right hand, touching the pad of his thumb to her split lip. A moment of concentration was all it took to see white magic flow through him, leaving his palm warm to the touch. He lifted his free hand up to cup her cheek and restore an even, light tone to her flesh where the bruises had settled. When he was done, he stroked a lock of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he said. “Perhaps you should return to the capital with me in a few days… where I’ve arranged a meeting with your father.”

Not sure how Elyna would take the suggestion, Malcolm fixed his gaze on her mouth and lifted it slowly to meet her eyes. “You can take the time you need to rest first, of course, and decide what you would like to happen to the captain.” The man sounded serious, and he was.

Was it wrong to feel so comforted by the man? Malcolm pulled her close and Elyna softened within his embrace, far too willing to indulge in the strength of his arms and the steady beat of his heart. She buried her face once more against his shoulder, closing her eyes as she inhaled the scent of him. There was something about the combination of pine, peppermint and soap that was unique to Bennett. Her breath eased and the sharp pain in her chest lessened. Though her heart didn’t race any less.

Elyna turned her face to the side, eyes opening wide with alarm as his hand brushed her lip. The light of magic was unmistakable and she eased back, just enough to search his features with surprise. Would she ever solve the mystery of Malcolm, Wolf of Krome? He seemed the man least likely to learn magic. It was forbidden by the creed of Seven and he seemed devout as any. A knight most loyal to his kingdom and devoted to upholding its laws. Though she suspected he had a permit or license, and wouldn’t have practised anything illegal. That wasn’t who he was. But if he used magic, did he not believe in the Seven? There was so much about him that she didn’t know and wanted to learn.

Ona had removed the worst of the bruising but some of the pain had remained, a the split had continued to open. Elyna sensed that at Malcolm’s touch, any ailment had now fled. Relief saw the tears return, despite her attempts to wipe them away.

‘Magic?’ She wondered aloud, ‘you’re a man full of surprises.’ Elyna wanted to know more but suspected he would tell her, if and when he was ready to. But where had Malcolm Bennett learnt magic? His next suggestion caused her to glance up once more. She searched his features, brows drawn together in thought. Her father? Why? Her tongue felt too heavy for her jaw and she lowered her gaze, to his mouth. There could be no good in wondering about such a meeting. Elyna knew she would have to ask; but the world felt grey and she was weary. It wasn’t even midday and she wanted to hide from the world and the unhappy future that awaited.

‘I…’ Elyna bowed her head against his chest once more. ‘I would like that.’ The thought of spending more time with Malcolm was appealing, more than that. Her heart screamed yes. How could she refuse? Because it would mean she was running away. She closed her eyes. She didn’t want to think, even if her head had finally stopped thumping with pain.

‘Mal, I was frightened, and if I leave with you, I fear I’ll be running away,’ she spoke quietly, ‘does...does that mean I’m not fit to be a Knight, or a Skyrider?’ Elyna looked up at the man once more. Her fear laid between them as she searched his expression for confirmation of her fears.

Her gaze lingered on his mouth and the woman shook her head, she had questions, and yet it was hard to concentrate so close to the man. Her hand lifted, fingers curled around the back of his neck and she bid him to bend. Rising to press her kiss to his mouth. Everything else felt so distant when it was just the two of them. So unimportant.

Elyna seemed surprised by his use of magic. It was rare to see anyone use magic in Renmere, but the knights in his crew seemed relatively comfortable with the idea of having a healer within their ranks. Malcolm had chosen to learn magic long ago and though he wasn’t very adept at the craft, he knew enough to get by. The use of magic always left him feeling a little drained of energy, but a few bruises and a split lip was nothing in comparison to an open wound or any form of infection, which took a lot more skill and concentration to mend.

The woman stood up on the tips of her toes to press a kiss to his lips, and willing, he indulged her. He had longed to return to her in the night and relive what they had shared, but with his brothers staying in the keep, it was difficult to move around the halls unnoticed. It was too easy to lose himself to such kisses, thus the knight made it short and sweet, straightening once Elyna found her heels. Their eyes met and the man couldn’t help but lean in again, tipping his head to kiss at her jaw and neck, as if to whisper a secret to her bones.

He bent to fetch his pack and raised it from the ground, hoisting it up over his shoulder once more. “I think I’ll leave this packed,” he said, “I would like to get on the road as soon as the storm passes.” Malcolm smiled as he watched her.

Although she found a willing partner in the Wolf, the kiss was over far too soon for her liking. The sting of his departure lessened a little by the tantalising brush of his lips against the sensitive skin of her jaw. Eyes closed, a soft noise escaped the woman as she found herself leaning forward. He straightened and Elyna let out the air held in her lungs. Taking a careful step back, she couldn’t help but smile in return. It was too dangerous to get caught up. Wasn’t it? But who would know? Did he have somewhere else to be?

Elyna pressed small white teeth against her bottom lip and tucked her hair behind her ear. It was the same twist of locks that kept escaping. Her breathing steadied, the woman knew she couldn’t think badly of the man. He had a reputation to protect, a wedding to look forward to.

‘It’s your room,’ she offered, gesturing to their surroundings. ‘If you would be more comfortable here, then I could use another?’ It had been strange to spend the night in his bed, without him. It wasn’t an experience she was keen to repeat, though she suspected that Malcolm was drawing a careful line under their intimacy. As he should, as he had every right to do. But how could something that felt so right, be wrong? What did it make her, if she kept pursuing him and making her affections so obvious?

I missed you last night. She longed to speak the words but they held on her tongue, forbidden from finding breath. Her dark eyes searched his emerald gaze and she hoped that he might just understand the desire that she watched him with. Not just for passion, but to simply be wrapped within his embrace.

—-

The day passed peacefully. Elyna joined the brothers for their mealtimes, but spent much of the day sat beside a large window in the library, sewing. With Malcolm, Owen and Benjamin safe and accounted for, she found that finally she could take the rest that her body so desperately needed.

A little before dinner, there was a nervous visitor to the Keep. The Skyrider requested Lady Elyna. Elyna met Liam in the hallway.

‘How are you?’ She reached out, touching her hand to the tall man’s arm. Like Ben, he was blonde and burly. His stubble had started to grow into a beard during their time in the mountains.

‘Well enough - Elyna, they said you’re a Lady?’ His blue eyes were wide with surprise as he looked down at his lovers’ best friend.

Elyna lowered her hand, her gaze dropping. ‘It’s true,’ she confirmed.

‘Emily never told me,’ Liam could only stare, features pale as he looked up at the grand house, was this what Elyna was more used to? How could it be the same girl who had spent time drinking with him and the crew in the tavern, or being thrown around in the training ground?

‘We were both forbidden from saying anything,’ Elyna explained, ‘she’s spent so long protecting me...Liam, I know she wouldn’t have wanted to keep any secrets from you.’ He looked lost as he stood there, lifting a large hand to push through his hair.

‘Has everyone left with the Captain?’ Elyna couldn’t help but ask.

‘Most,’ he nodded. ‘I don’t think Em’s group will be coming back before the storm is over.’

Elyna grimaced, ‘I’d feel better if you were there with her.’

‘Me too,’ he agreed. His gaze fixed on Elynas shoulder.

‘Liam…’ she reached out again, drawing his attention with another light touch to his arm. ‘Thank you for stepping in earlier.’

‘It was my pleasure, my Lady.’ He offered a smile which she returned.

‘That’s not why you did it,’ Elyna dropped her fingers to his hand. She squeezed his calloused palm gently.

‘I did it for Em,’ he admitted, ‘I’d never hear the end of it, if you were hurt.’

Elyna laughed and dropped her hand, ‘you’re right about that! Are you alright though? There were four lashes on your back, he only said three…’

‘Bruises,’ Liam shrugged broad shoulders, ‘honestly, I’m just glad to see you better. He said that one of the lashes was for Emily anyway.’

Elyna hissed a breath, so her friends own disobedience had been noted also.

‘Ona said once it was done, it was done.’ She said hopefully.

Liam nodded, ‘let’s hope that’s true. I’m sure Emily will make it up to me anyway.’

Elyna laughed at that, lifting her hands to cover her ears. ‘I don’t need to hear that.’

‘I best get going, we’re having dinner at the tavern?’ Liam took a step back, his offer made.

‘I’ll be staying here, to rest. It’s been good to see you. I’m sure if you-.’ Elyna waved the man away as he vanished back out into the night, faster than she could extend the invitation. Liam was nervous around the nobility, though she hoped they could continue their friendship.

‘Rest well, Lady,’ he turned to bow before darting down the steps.

The next day was spent much the same way. Elyna had asked one of the staff if there was any sewing or mending that she could assist with. After completing the hem on a new shift, she’d been gratified to be presented with a small pile of clothes to finish or repair. The Skyrider hated to be useless and sit around, though knew she should conserve her energy for the long journey ahead.

After dinner, too tired to sew, the woman had moved between the library shelves and selected a book to read. Hoping that Malcolm wouldn’t mind. Her favourite space remained the wide window, that coaxed as much light into the room as possible. But darkness has fallen beyond the glass and only the stars shone through small breaks in the cloud cover. She sat wearing thick socks, curled up on the window seat with the book balanced on her lap. Her chin propped in her hands she poured over the pages. It was a tome of written history, detailing all the stories she’d heard as a child, though she had never seen them written down.

‘There you are!’ It was Owen, approaching with a bottle of red wine and a pair of glasses.

‘Did you not drink enough at dinner?’ Elyna closed the book carefully and set it safely to one side. She eyed the glasses and smiled, ‘why do I get the feeling you’re up to no good, Owen Bennett?’

The man grinned. Gripping the glasses and bottle in one hand, he stood and drew the curtains around the window. Leaving the room cast in the cosy glow of the fire. ‘It’s too dark for you to read by the window, come - join me for a post-dinner drink?’ He retreated to the large fur rug that stretched before the blazing fire.

Laughing, Elyna followed and sank down before him. They sat crossed legged in front of the fireplace. Owen poured the wine and pulled a stack of playing cards from his pocket.

‘I’m bored of my own company,’ he admitted. The man offered a glass which was accepted carefully. Elyna balanced it between her hands as the man toasted their good company.

Owen had left the door open, as they each sat cross-legged before the fireplace without a chaperone, giggling like a pair of schoolchildren. The cards were laid down in front of them as they played. The younger Bennett had been alluding to a rude story of one of their crews actions in Nejem which had Elynas’ cheeks red with both shock and embarrassment. But she couldn’t stop laughing.

‘You remind me of my own brother,’ Elyna admitted.

‘I think I’ve met him?’ Owen admitted which drew a grin from the woman.

‘Edmund?’ Her expression lit up, ‘it's been so long since I’ve seen him.’

‘He’s a sailor, isn’t he? Surely he has leave in Andaris between voyages?’

She nodded quickly before shaking her head, ‘yes and no- he has leave but my Mother insists he travels straight home. She likes to pamper him, make sure he’s properly fed. At least that’s what he tells me when he writes,’ Elyna explained. ‘But I’ve not seen him since before I left Burhan.’

‘I take it, your Mother doesn’t insist on you returning home?’ Owen was studying her in the flickering glow of the golden flames.

Elyna grimaced, ‘I avoid it whenever I can...I think I always hoped she might just forget about me, she chuckled. ‘No such luck.’

‘So how about the Captain?’ Owen lent back on his free hand.

Elyna lifted a brow as she took a slow sip of the rich wine, ‘you knew?’ She asked quietly.

‘Mmhmm.’ Owen wriggled a brow, lifting his drink once more.

She studied the red liquid, wondering why it reminded her so much of blood. Was it the thickness? Or just the colour?

‘How did it all happen?’ Owen tilted his head to the side, ‘I never worked that out. Your so...and he’s so…’

Elyna searched the man’s expression, trying to fill in the blanks. She chewed on her bottom lip before running her fingertips down the bridge of her nose. ‘I...I was young,’ her voice lowered, it was easy to talk to Owen. Too easy.

He laughed, ‘you’re still young! You can’t be more than your mid twenties?’

Elyna swallowed, ‘Twenty in Bloom. The first,’ she lifted her glass in a mockery of a toast before taking a sip. Owen looked shocked. Surprised that the woman before him was even younger than he had assumed.

‘I always thought you just looked young for your age…’ he murmured.

‘Well...the armour helps. People just see a uniform,’ Elyna offered a smaller smile.

‘How young?’ Owen swallowed a larger gulp of wine. ‘When the Captain…’

Elyna looked towards the flame, her own cheeks burning. Her answer was given in silence. Too young.

‘Warrick's Whip,’ Owen stretched out his long legs. ‘Well at least you’re free of him now.’ He offered eventually.

Elyna looked back at the man, lifting her shoulder in another shrug. She gathered up her cards, pretending to study them as her empty glass was set aside.

‘I still should have known better,’ she had been raised as a Lady. Her virtue was her worth, and it had been squandered. She had known that, and some part of her hadn’t cared. Defiantly, stubbornly, part of her still didn’t.

‘How…?’ Owen sat up again, refilling his glass and offering the bottle. Elyna declined, bring up her knees to wrap her arms around. Difficult in the long green skirts she wore.

‘I suppose, he was the first to ever really...uh...notice me.’ Her flush deepened, creeping over her neck and shoulders. She ran a hand along her collar. It was getting a little hot beside the fire. ‘It just makes it all the more pathetic, doesn’t it?’

‘No...you were so young. But...no one?’ Owen raised his brows. ‘No young swains tried to gain your affection? Or steal a kiss?’ He teased.

Elyna chuckled into her hand, ‘no...honestly, no. I’m not the kind of, you know…’

‘I don’t know? What?’ He sat back again and watched her over his drink.

‘I’m not the person anyone hoped I would be.’

‘You’ll have to explain,’ his gaze intensified. He reminded her so much of his brother when he looked at her like that.

Elyna met his expression with a nervous laugh. ‘You know...taller, fair haired, eyes like the sky...less inclined to spend her time wielding weapons.’

Owen scoffed, ‘you can’t be serious.’

The woman inspected her glass. If she had been all of those things, perhaps the King wouldn’t have broken her engagement to Malcolm? She hadn’t been good enough, Lady Andaris clearly offered more of what their Ruler felt were qualities in a good wife. Maybe if she had been those things, Malcolm would have been able to fight harder for them. She had no fear that the King would find her a suitable wife for Marcus. The idea was laughable if she thought about it for too long. Elyna was confident that once he met her, the King would dismiss the match in a heartbeat.

‘Anyway,’ she dismissed the conversation, ‘that’s how. It was nice to feel that perhaps I could be enough. Almost enough,’ she corrected herself. That’s what Yvan had always said after all, she was almost perfect. Not quite, almost.

‘I’m sorry,’ Owen frowned, ‘when-‘

‘I broke things off with Yvan.’ Elyna looked up then, and knew from the surprised expression that she was right to speak up, at long last. ‘Back in Blaze.’

‘I thought…’

‘I’m well aware of what everyone thinks,’ Elyna shrugged once more, watching the ash as it burnt lower, turning in on itself before Owen added another log. ‘Why do you think he was in such a bad mood all of the way home?’

Owen was quiet for a while. ‘It was a bad journey back.’ He agreed.

‘I hated every second of being on that boat,’ Elyna sighed and finally stood. She collected her glass and moved to set it gently on one of the tables. It was cooler away from the fire.

‘Hey,’ Owen gave a lighthearted protest, ‘we spent a lot of time together during that voyage. Its how I finally learnt how to cheat at cards,’ he picked up his set and waved them.

Elyna laughed softly, ‘it’s when I finally taught you how to win,’ she teased in reply. ‘Though, I apologise for using you as something as a buffer during that voyage,’ Elyna sighed. ‘I just knew that if I was alone then…’

‘What?’

The woman swallowed, ‘I just didn’t want to be alone.’ How to explain that the Captain would have tried taking what he wanted? ‘I heard what he did…when do you think we will know the judgment?’

Owen sat up a little, ‘it’ll probably be a few more days. I expect we’ll be travelling when the news is sent.’

Elyna nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear once more. ‘Owen Bennett,’ she curtseyed to the man, ‘it’s been a pleasure.’

‘Anytime, my Lady,‘ he lifted the near empty bottle in salute.

‘Don’t drink anymore,’ she laughed, ‘or you won’t make it upstairs.’

Owen grinned, ‘I’ll find my way!’

——-

It was a little later that the woman padded silent through the dark corridors. She could hear Owen snoring from even down the hallway. Her socks muffled the sound of her feet and she kept her skirts gathered in her hands as she went. She hadn’t planned on doing this, and yet she couldn’t resist. Perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps she simply felt better rested.

Elyna slipped through the door to Malcolm’s room. She turned and locked it behind her. A shiver ran down her spine as the key caused the latch to click. She heard water from the en-suite, and the room felt warm, the fire banked as a gentle splashing echoed.

The woman unfastened her skirts, and let them slip from her hips. Next, she unlaced the bodice and folded it carefully in half, placing it on a chair along with the rest of the soft green material. Her socks were discarded and wearing only her shift, the woman slipped through the room and into the bathroom.

The darkness was pushed back by a few candles balanced around in the corners. The bath was filled with steaming water and her gaze fixed on the dark-haired man as she entered the room. Then slowly, with careful, deliberate actions she turned and closed the door that split the bathroom from the bedroom. She lent against the divide for a moment, chest rising and falling as her pulse flickered nervously in her neck. Her blush rose from her neck, along her jaw and cheeks. She could only stare at the man who so often stole her breath.

‘The storm looks as though it’s lessening,’ Elyna spoke softly. This might be their last night before travelling back to the capital. Her fingers reached, toying with the single string that kept the front of her shift fastened across her bosom.

‘I’ve missed you…’

Malcolm used the last of the day light to pen a letter to Fredric, the Captain of the Skyriders who had taken up residence in the village barracks. The Duke’s demands were simple, Fredric was to take rest upon his return from his current mission before packing up his things and taking leave of Mayce, a region he would not be welcome in again as long as Malcolm Krome drew breath. Just in case Fredric chose to ignore his wishes, the letter also detailed that a copy had been sent to the King and, should Fredric choose to ignore the Duke’s orders in his absence, a follow up letter would find its way into Lord Burhan’s hands.

The duke had thought to send a servant to deliver the letter, but chose to walk down to the barracks himself, braving the weather to do so. On his way back, Thomas, the stable boy, called out to him.

“M’lord,” he said, “m’lord, there’s been a letter for you.”

“Tom.” Malcolm greeted the shivering boy, “you’ll catch your death out here, make sure you get home at once.”

Thomas held out the letter and Malcolm accepted it with a gloved hand. The boy bowed and ran towards the village, gripping his scarf close to his neck for extra warmth. Malcolm turned the letter over in his hand and recognised a crudely fashioned stamp of Andaris in the red wax that held the paper closed. He returned to the keep then and shrugged off his heavy wolf pelt into a servant's waiting hands.

“I’ll see to it that the furs are dried properly, m’lord,” the woman said.

“Thank you,” Malcolm told her, “could you have someone bring a fresh pot of ink up to my room in the guest wing.”

“Do you need some parchment too, m’lord?”

“No,” Malcolm said, “just the ink.”

He climbed the stairs and looked out the window in his room at the heavy snowfall. No doubt the mountains would be blanketed come dawn, he thought. With all of the candles in his room lit, Malcolm sat down to open the letter he soon discovered had been sent by his betrothed, Lady Penelope Andaris. It was a fifteen day carriage ride to the capital from Mayce, which meant the king and his guests were not quite half way through their journey. How strange, Malcolm thought, that he should receive a letter part way in.

To the Duke of Mayce, Malcolm Krome.

I am writing to you on the dawn following your departure from our present company. You must excuse my sorry excuse for penmanship, though I’m sure you understand how troublesome the road and it’s uneasy ride lend to such a chore.

Let me begin by paying you a small compliment on your enchanting home and progress to say how fond and charmed we all were by you, our brilliant host. I am saddened to hear that you will not be in the number of knights accompanying us back to the capital, but say that I foolishly looked out for you this morning in hope that you were.

I am flush with colour at the thought of how very fond I am of you and your home already, and hope that we will spend many happy years together once we are wed in Blaze.

It troubles me to admit that my parents may have done something to upset the king, as he has stated that they will have words once we are rested following our return to the capital. I do hope that you won’t hold any of their wrongdoings against me, if such is found to be so, and let this pass as gently as a summer breeze.

To receive word that you are in good health and spirits would ease my mind.

In parting, my family and I would like to extend an invitation to you and yours to join us for dinner upon your return to the capital.The tentative date is 60 Frost, though if you do not hear from me again before then, consider it etched in stone.

With love and hope for our future together,

Penelope Andaris

Malcolm set the letter down and found that he had forgotten what it was he had come up to his room to do, even following the delivery of fresh ink by one of his servants. He took up a blank piece of parchment and stared at the empty page, agonising over what he should write by way of reply to the young Andaris lady. It was so strange to think that they would be man and wife in two short seasons, living apart while he continued his work for the kingdom as a knight of the Iron Hand.

To the Lady Andaris, first of her line.

I was humbled today to find your letter delivered to my hands on such a cold and miserable day in the mountains. I am writing to you from the keep, trapped by a terrible storm that we all hope will pass before too long. It saddens me to admit that myself and the remaining numbers of my rank will not be able to catch up to the king and his guard before you reach the capital.

May it be known that I would never hold the actions of another against you, Lady Andaris, and that I serve the king and his wishes first in all matters.

I would be honoured to join yourself and the rest of your family at the Andaris Estate come 60 Frost. Such an occasion would be a warm ray of light in this cold and unforgiving season.

With admiration and hope for the future we will share.

Malcolm Krome

The finished letter was entrusted to Malcolm’s head of staff, who promised to deliver it to the returning skyrider who delivered and collected their mail each day around the same time to the mews above the stables. He cleaned up and went down to join his guests for dinner then, pleased to see Elyna was in attendance, having recognised and felt her absence over breakfast that morning.

After some chatter and an evening spent reading in the library, Malcolm retired to his room and got a good night's sleep, making the most of his downtime, sure that the storm would clear sooner or later. They only needed half a day to get down the mountain, he thought, after that the foothills and flat valleys of Renmere would prove no trouble to a group of seasoned knights on horseback.



The following day the sky looked windswept, as if someone had taken a giant paintbrush and pushed the clouds across the horizon with no real sense or order to their brush-strokes. Pastels in hues of pink, purple and blue coloured the morning sky with signs of hope that were soon replaced with the far more familiar winter tones of grey.

Malcolm dressed for the cold and went downstairs to find he had been the first to wake. The cook was swift to prepare him a meal of hot oats, which he ate before choosing to venture to the stables to check on the horses. Thomas was there as he was each morning, rising like a cockerel, ready to face the dawn. He tossed a pile of straw down from the loft that in part covered the duke. Malcolm laughed, though the boy seemed mortified, racing down the ladder to apologise.

“No harm done,” Malcolm assured him. “How are they this morning?” He then inquired after the health of the horses.

“They are very well, m’lord. I was hoping to feed them and get back to the village,” Thomas explained.

“Other things to do today?” Malcolm asked.

Thomas replied with a curt nod. “Part of our roof caved in last night,” Thomas said, “under the weight of the snow. My baby sister was cold and crying all night.”

Malcolm bent to pick up some straw and feed it into the first net. “Oh, Thomas, you should have said, lad. Let’s get these horses fed and I’ll come and help you with the roof.”

The hours of daylight in Frost were already short without the pressure of needing to get an urgent task done before nightfall fell. Malcolm spent every minute being as useful as he could be to Tom’s family. He helped build a new wooden frame and hold it in place while Thomas, who was a lot lighter than any of them, worked to secure the frame with a hammer and nails. The tiles were stacked, lifted and set following that, the group of them working till dark to see to it that the job was done.

A hot meal for all was delivered from the keep and Malcolm promised that meat from the next deer caught by the keep’s hunter would go to the family. A few of the villagers in the older part of the village had undergone similar work the season before, but Tom’s house had been somehow missed or overlooked. Malcolm had pledged to have four more houses built in Mayce each season for the growing population, but had fallen shy of that target in his absence.

Returning to the keep in the dark and having already eaten with the villagers, Malcolm retired to his room early after the servants had been and drawn him a bath. He left his things neatly slumped over a chair and retreated to the heat and comfort of the bath, forgetting the cold of the day for a spell. He listened to the wind and the odd creak of the keep as if to signal that the strength of the storm had passed, replaced by something far more passive and calm.

When Elyna entered the ensuite unannounced, Malcolm straightened in the bath a little, not accustomed to interruptions when he was at his most vulnerable. He watched her approach and relaxed visibly when she spoke, admitting that she had missed him. He gave her a look and what she returned seemed to answer the burning question on the tip of his tongue. They were alone, there would be no risk of interruption. Still, something akin to guilt turned in his belly or was that just a pang of excitement at seeing her; a dangerous mix of the two, he surmised.

“I’ve missed you too,” he chose to reply.

He didn’t order her to leave. So, although the woman hesitated where she stood, she slowly pulled at the thread that kept the shift of her dress fastened. It unlaced, cross crossing between her breasts and down the center of her body. The ribbon discarded to one side, the woman bent enough so that she could collect the hem of the dress. Holding his gaze, her breath catching she moved closer, pulling the dress to her ankles, and then knees before she used the small wooden steps to climb the side of the bath and without further warning, stepped into the water and sank down before him. Shift clinging to her body as she sat and studied him. The water had risen up the sides of the tub, threatening to spill before it settled.

What could she say? What could be said? Her heart hammered in her chest. ‘You look tired…’ she studied his gaze. She had heard that he had been out in the snow, fixing a roof. ‘I can ease the ache in your shoulders, if you like?’ She lifted a brow, as though she hadn’t just climbed into his bath. ‘For a price.’

As Elyna moved to sit, Malcolm leaned forward and took the woman in his arms to draw her near. He silenced her with a kiss, the tight knot of guilt in his stomach unraveled and forgotten. “Not too tired,” he assured the woman, as he gathered up the weightless fabric of her underdress, acting upon his lust for her.

He woke the noblewoman in the dark hours before dawn, setting a familiar smelling tea at the bedside for her. “I’ve fetched your things,” he said, in a low voice, guesting to the bag she had left packed in his room.

Heat rose from the cup in long white ribbons. Malcolm drew back the blankets from Elyna’s bare form and bowed to kiss every inch of freshly revealed skin, rewriting the rules of desire. His heavy frame sank against her own to trap the warmth the night sought to leech from her bones. He rose up on his hands, dotting gentle kisses to her cheek, neck and shoulder while moving to sheath himself. How many times had he had her in the night and still longed for more, all without knowing her price.

The clouds overhead looked gloomy come first light, but the strength of the storm had subsided. It no longer howled down through the valley, bringing with it a biting cold that saw rain turn to hail before it struck the ground. With their horses ready and their bellies full, they made their way down the mountain, following the road that had been worn in against the black rock for more than a century.

Benjamin and Owen rode ahead while Malcolm and Elyna were flanked by a handful of men and women eager to return to work in the capital. It wasn’t very difficult for the duke to say goodbye to the region in Frost, though his heart ached to see its projects completed, he knew it would continue to flourish with or without his presence.

The newest member of their ranks was none other than Thomas, who had agreed to steward for the brothers in hopes of one day becoming a knight. He had his own dreams, those shared by many fledgling knights, the hope of bringing honour to his family name first and foremost. Though he had worked with horses for the majority of his short fourteen years, the boy looked nervous sitting atop his mount, an old bay gelding with a bad habit of biting.

The first day of travel was the longest of the trip, the crew riding through the night to set up camp beyond the foothills where the storm, should it return, would be at its worst. Thomas tended the horses once they had made camp while Owen took care of setting up a stew for everyone to share before they retired to their tents. The wind tested the peg stings and pushed at the small cluster of tents, but was no march for the tried and true fabric. They were less likely to be attacked in daylight while they slept, than they might have been under the cover of night.

Would the memory of their rare nights together be enough to sustain them? She hoped so, painfully aware that the few stolen hours might be all that they were given. How many times did they tumble one another in the depths of the night? Was there anything that could compare to the way she felt when they were together and free in those moments? Would anything ever again come close?

Elyna had never named her price for the offered massage of his muscles. It had been a request for a single kiss, one that had already been granted over and over in the shadows and darkness. He had made no promises of his own. He hadn’t told her that he loved her. He hadn’t promised his fidelity or silent devotion, and Elyna knew that eventually loving him would cleave her heart in two. Yet she couldn’t stop. She had promised her own heart and faithfulness until the day he made his promises. And so she slept beside him, curled up beneath his strong arm. Until that day...and then she would be free.

They travelled early, against the biting frost and snow. She smiled at the man, polite as they rode alongside one another, wondering if he wore her necklace. There was little opportunity to be much friendlier, her own reputation could be destroyed by her association with Yvan. The last thing she wanted to do was take Malcolm down with her, by allowing any whisper of impropriety. He was too good a man to suffer for her selfishness and mistakes.

Her mind wandered as they rode, again and again she was confronted with the same questions. Deep down, would Malcolm prefer his Lady Penelope? A true and proper Lady like his beloved princess? Would he look back on their brief affair with anything but frustration that she, Elyna pursued him? Like Yvan...would he come to hate her?

With the camp set up in the daylight, Ely perched beside the fire pit. She was wrapped in all of her warmest layers, her dark eyes peeking over the top of her scarf as the snow settled around them. She hated to be cold and Owen had already teased her. She’d shared stories about the ‘Riders with young Thomas. Hoping to encourage the lad into some confidence in his ability.

Her gaze lifted eventually to their leader and she watched him in silence. Really, there was little that she could say. Elyna stretched out her legs, wriggling her toes in her boots. She pulled her scarf down from her features and considered her words carefully after crossing the distance to sit beside him.

‘I expect you will be busy, when we return to the city,’ she didn’t expect to see him, and stared blank at the flames. ‘What with the trial...and everything else…’ like his engagement. She wondered if there would be a big fancy party and cringed, imagining that she would be forced to attend a ball held by the Andaris.