Gild (The Plated Prisoner #1) - Raven Kennedy Page 0,55

together, piling the snow over the dead, until all that’s left is a shallow mound of snow to mark their grave.

Once it’s done, the last of the lingering scent of their demise clears from the air. I shiver and hunker down inside my coat, just as Digby turns to see me standing there.

He makes a beeline for me, and I tense. “Brace yourself,” I mutter to Sail.

Digby stops right in front of me, sweat on his brow despite the cold. He looks at me for a long time without saying anything, and I have to try not to fidget beneath his stare as I wait for the lecture.

I know I put myself and everyone else in danger back in the city. I know it was a stupid, reckless thing to do. I know that my impulsive decision to give out money could very well have set off a bad chain of events, but I wasn’t thinking of any of that at the time. I just wanted to help. I just wanted to make those kids’ lives not quite so bleak, even if for only a moment.

Digby’s eyes flick over my face, and then his glare slips away as he sighs. “Stay in the carriage next time.”

That’s all he says, and then he turns and walks away, stomping toward the men. He barks out orders, indicating to everyone that it’s time to move out again.

I let out a puff of breath that coalesces in front of me like a starved cloud. Sail nudges me. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

I let out a chuckle and shake my head, following him as we start to make our way back toward my carriage. “No. I got let off easy.”

Midas would’ve raged at me for doing something so dangerous.

When we reach my carriage, Sail opens the door for me, stepping aside. “Well, if it means anything, I like what you did back there.”

I look at him with surprise, but he shrugs shyly, embarrassed either by his words or my attention. “It was risky and rash, but it showed you cared. That you saw, that you looked. Nobody else would’ve ever stopped for them,” he tells me, and the tone of his voice tells me everything I need to know about who he is and where he’s come from.

Sadness fills my cheeks, holding them up into a makeshift smile. “You would’ve, Sail,” I tell him. “You would’ve stopped too.”

And even though I just met him, I know this down to my bones. Because this soldier from the slums, he’s not so different from me.

Sail dips his head, and I offer him a smile before I climb into the carriage, the door closing quietly behind me. At least I know that for every King Rot that exists, there’s someone like Sail in the world to balance it out.

We travel for a couple more hours until Digby finally calls everyone to halt, just an hour before dawn. We’re well outside the city walls now, with nothing but a plain white canvas of snow surrounding us and a mountain range at our backs, the golden castle out of view.

Nearest to the fire, a thick canvas and leather tent is erected for me, fur rugs rolled out on the floor. Sail gives me a wink where he stands watch outside, and I climb in, barely shoveling down travel rations before I crawl onto my bedroll.

By the time night eases away and the dawning sun comes, I’m snuggled deep under golden covers with my ribbons wrapped around me. My legs and back are sore from riding, though it’s nothing compared to the aching sight of those molded men roped up, or the crushing poverty in Highbell.

But...I’m outside. I’m moving rather than stagnant. I’m out in the world, and I’m embracing it rather than hiding from it. So that’s something, at least.

I don’t know what I’m going to do once I reach Fifth Kingdom. I don’t know what to expect. It’s been one night, and I’ve already had to face heartbreaking destitution and rancid cruelty. But I’m okay. Despite not having the security of my cage, the world isn’t crushing me. Isn’t breaking me.

For now, I’m okay.

Chapter Nineteen

“Dammit all to Divine’s hell,” I hiss under my breath as I grip the reins, forcing myself to stay seated in the saddle.

I haven’t even been riding for very long yet—thirty minutes, tops. The night is thick and misted, like the air is holding up frozen patches of fog, forcing it to cling to