A Queen of Gilded Horns (A River of Royal Blood #2) - Amanda Joy Page 0,10

sensing my approach. He smiled, broad and bright as the sun, and stretched out his hand toward me. The weeks on the road had been good to him. His dark curls were streaked with hints of gold. The cotton shirt he wore stretched taut across his back and shoulders. There was a long-handled knife thrust through his belt, and his longbow and quiver rested just out of Isa’s reach.

As I anticipated, my sister fell silent the moment she caught sight of me. Sitting with her feet tucked beneath her, Isa shifted until I could make out the shackle that bound her ankle. It was attached to a stake in the ground a few feet away. I nodded, but said nothing as I passed by them and ducked into my tent.

After a beat, I heard Aketo murmur something to my sister before he followed me inside. He sat beside me as I dug through my remaining saddlebags, searching for one of the sweaters I’d bought in Dahn, the nomadic bloodkin city between the Silvern Coast and the Plain. After we left Ternain, we’d ridden west to the sea and then took a ship north past the great port cities at the mouth of the Red River to a rocky coastline dotted with small but well-fortified towns that thrived off trade from the Isles.

Dahn, meaning “roaming city” in Khimaeran, made its home in a fertile valley a few hundred leagues from the sea. The city was home to old bloodkin families who lived and traveled in intricately carved, fancifully painted wagons. Over the years, Dahn had also become a meeting place for peddlers with their vast merchant caravans, who requested permission to travel with the city. There we divested ourselves of most of the supplies brought from Ternain and traded for supplies for our journey on the Plain.

Much smaller than the tent I’d slept in on the ride to Asrodei, my current lodging could hardly fit two people comfortably. I was used to sharing the cramped space with Aketo, though.

His knees pressed against mine, his skin warmed by the sun. Desire flickered through me.

My face heated. This was becoming embarrassing. No matter how many nights I spent in this tent curled up beside him, my attraction to Aketo had not waned. Remembering that he was as aware of this as I was did not help.

“Well?” Aketo asked, his breath warm against my cheek.

I leaned away and kept my attention on the search. It was so easy, I’d learned these last weeks, to let Aketo’s presence suck up all my attention.

Most days, most nights especially, I needed the distraction.

But not now.

“We’ll make our plans tonight and go inside tomorrow by nightfall.”

“Did you see someone? At the estate?” Aketo pressed.

I shook my head. “No, but we can’t continue waiting here indefinitely. Staying in one place for too long is dangerous.”

“Yes, and so is rushing into an unknown situation, Eva.”

I faced him, our noses bare inches apart, and sighed through my teeth. I should have known he’d preach caution. “I know that. Better than most, but sometimes these things are necessary. Need I remind you what might have happened if I’d left you with Isadore?”

A muscle in his jaw jumped. “I don’t require reminders of that night or how dangerous your sister is.”

“Are you sure?” By my estimation, he needed a daily reminder. I remembered my sister’s knife at his throat. She was softening him, not using her magick, but persuading him that he could relax around her nonetheless.

Aketo’s brow furrowed, gaze falling to my neck and the pendant that hung from it. The courtship gift he’d given me before everything went to shit. “Perhaps I have not been expressing my . . . gratitude toward your fearless nature adequately if you have need to remind me.”

Spying laughter in his eyes, I protested, “No need! Your appreciation”—Aketo smirked outright as I went on—“is well documented at this point, my Prince.”

“Good to know.” He pressed a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth. Tempting, but we both drew back. “I’m just worried. The more time passes, the more crucial our every move. It feels like if we even look in the wrong direction, everything will fall apart. I want to keep you safe.” He closed the space between us, and added in a near-silent whisper, “I’m afraid.”

I shivered, recalling my dreams of the last few nights. Bodies swinging from the Gate of Skies—the main entrance to the Queen’s Palace that opened to a vast public