forget a hunt.”
Glad, Hotspur agreed. She pulled the heavy scarf she’d had tied around her own hair back up over her scatter of curls to shield her burning ears from the cold. Unlike Hal, in her orange leather coat, Hotspur wore a thick cloak and under it layers of wool sweater. Both had mittens protecting their fingers, and if they weren’t to shoot the arrows tied to their saddles, they wouldn’t have to worry about frostbite.
Under the slight shelter of trees the wind slowed, and sound was muffled by snowy shadows. The trees weren’t so near as to force them to ride single file, so they went abreast and their knees sometimes knocked; these horses liked each other, too. Bare branches clacked together, and Hotspur tilted her head to look at them and the shine of sky beyond. The forest floor crackled beneath the hooves of their horses, and Hal sang a little Aremore winter song.
“Gather all and welcome snow
welcome fire and swallow wine
swallow cakes and give a song
give a smile, dance a jig
dance for winter, gather all!”
“It’s so stupid.” Hotspur laughed.
“I loved it as a child, because it seems like a joke. I could sing it by the time I was four years old.”
“I prefer ‘Ballad of the Winter King.’”
Hal rolled her eyes so hard it knocked back her head. “Of course you do. Bloodthirsty!”
“Not truly!” Hotspur wrinkled her nose. “It’s about family.”
“And how family gets you killed in very creative ways.” Hal continued to eye Hotspur with amusement.
If there’d been more than a glancing of snow on the ground, Hotspur would’ve launched off her horse to start a fight. Or something warmer.
A moment later, Hal said, “I had to get out of there. The fortress. I don’t know how to look at Solas Lear. Our prophecy is easier than hers.”
“Even for the lion?”
“I’ve already been broken, Hotspur. I’m going to be all right.”
Hotspur sighed a little violently. She thought to herself, When the saints are singing and the restless are reclaimed, the dragon will burn, the lion will break, and the wolf will choose the end.
They rode in silence again until Hal said, “My wizard told me another riddle. An earth saint riddle given to him.” With a pause to create momentum, Hal continued in a hushed tone, “When the star roads blaze, bring the lion’s heart home. I don’t know if it means I’ll die, so my heart needs to be taken home, or that in the taking of it I’ll be killed.”
Hotspur stared. “How long have you known?”
“Since the equinox. I don’t know what the star roads are, though. But the more I turn it around in my mind, the more I think you’re my heart, Hotspur. Maybe you’re the one coming home.”
“I wouldn’t mind being home.”
“With me,” Hal said firmly. “At my side.”
Only the creaking of snow-heavy branches and the huff of their horses’ breath broke the stillness. Hotspur was lost in her swirling feelings. It was too late to go home at Hal’s side, nor did she think she could face Hal on a battlefield. Even if Hal hadn’t proven she could win, how could Hotspur step onto a field in which she’d have to fight Hal in truth? To death or complete defeat?
“How did this happen to us?” Hal asked.
Hotspur glanced over, but Hal stared ahead, black lashes fluttering.
“I could tell the story of it,” Hotspur whispered, seeing every choice that had brought them here in a perfect road scrolling open behind them.
“What was the choice that made it inevitable? When you married Connley, or when I kissed you at Tenne-Tiras? When you left me to flee to Mercia?”
Hotspur ignored the flood of anger and guilt that Hal’s final note engendered. She said, “Not when I married Connley! He is a good match. I like him.”
“But to marry him was to take action against my mother. You knew that. I know you did. Aligning yourself with Banna Mora, and Vindomata must support it. He’s not a convenient husband, he’s just a weapon.”
“It is a good match, Hal, and if Celedrix weren’t so intent on making Mora her enemy it would only be a marriage to strengthen the ties between Aremoria and Innis Lear. It is not my fault your mother fears Mora.”
“No, it isn’t, but it is not only my mother’s regret causing this, it’s Vindomata stirring shit. You knew what it would mean to both my mother and your aunt and—” Hal sighed raggedly. “You still married him.”
“I would have talked all