Midnight Moon (The Bleeding Crown Book 1)

Chapter 12 - Power

Veanna's blood ran cold. "What do you want?" she asked softly, too stunned for her voice to tremble.

Neyerith laughed, and her unease deepened. How was he so calm? "Nothing. I made a deal to get you safely to Beyall, remember?"

"And then?" Tia growled.

"Then nothing. You've paid me, I'll do what you asked. We'll go our separate ways."

"Lord Sae -" Veanna began, stepping forward.

Neyerith laughed once more, though this time edged with bitterness. "Nobody calls me that, Princess. That hasn't been my name for fifteen years."

"Fine. Why should we trust you?"

"My sparkling personality?" he suggested, his eyes glinting.

"You were banished from court for treason, if I remember rightly," she continued, "And the betrayal was bad enough that you were shunned to the outskirts of the kingdom. I'm worth a lot of gold to the right people; how do we know you won't sell me out?"

"You don't," he answered simply, "But you need me to take you home, unless you plan on trying to find someone else in these woods."

Veanna bit her lip, her heart in the pit of her stomach. She didn't want him with them a minute longer, didn't want another fear hanging over her head. In that moment she would gladly commit to hiking to Beyall by herself, if only to be away from his calculating gaze.

Neyerith grinned. "Besides, I'm sure your bodyguard here would decapitate me if I so much as thought about turning you over to unsavoury individuals."

Tia met Veanna's gaze, and she knew the Outlander had come to the conclusion that Neyerith counted on: they had no other choice. Veanna gave a reluctant nod and Tia lowered her sword, releasing him roughly and pinning him with a glare.

He straightened his tunic, his grin widening. "This is going to be a fun trip."

Tia levelled her blade at him again. "The threat of decapitation still stands if you act against us. Force my hand, and we will find the way to Beyall ourselves."

"I'd have thought you would like a bad boy," he answered with a wink, undaunted.

Veanna folded her arms. "If you carry on like this, it's going to be a very long journey."

His eyes glinted. "Oh come on, Princess. Live a little."

***

Veanna barely slept all night, and she was fairly sure Tia hadn't abandoned her watch once.

Neyerith proved to be even more infuriating now that the cat was out of the bag: he made several comments about the privileges of royal birth even before they started walking the next morning.

Veanna's restraint was stretching to its breaking point, and Neyerith's sidelong glances made her skin crawl. Every moment since she had last been safe in the palace reminded her how inadequate she was. She moved from one helpless situation to another, with no agency, no skills, no plans to escape it. Now she was at the mercy of Neyerith, a traitor and a liar; what would be next?

A freezing sensation on her foot dragged her back to reality as her step plunged into a hole hidden by the mud, deep enough that the cold slime crept over the top of her boot. The cheap, ugly boot that was one of her only possessions, that she was incapable of replacing or even mending herself, that she would have to wear every laborious step to her faraway home.

Her discipline snapped, and a string of curses fell from her lips. Words that changed nothing, achieved nothing, and made her seem as far from royalty as she currently appeared.