Page 27 of The Hunted

SIX

Eryx

Three hundred, sixty-two days later …

THE CLOP-CLOP of the horse’s hooves against the dirt road that led into the West Market’s eastern entrance through the village gave Eryx a good visual of what lie in wait for him. Through the bustling streets filled with villagers selling their goods, from shoddy tables covered like tents with ragged cloths to keep out the elements should a storm arrive without warning, he looked beyond it all to see what was farther out.

Beyond the market.

And the square.

Even the village.

There, he found the masts of ships reaching toward a rather clear sky. Both of which meant good things not only for him, but these vendors attempting to sell their items to make what money they could before the storm season arrived again. It felt like the last one had gone on for so long that they had barely any good weather at all before they’d been faced with the rapidly changing seasons all over again.

Did that mean the seasons were shifting? Longer storms, and shorter periods of rest?

Eryx couldn’t be sure, but if that were the case, he figured it didn’t mean anything good for their realm. As it was, the royal family and the people relied on the season after the storms to be able to properly live.

He didn’t study the sky or the water. His education before becoming an adult had consisted of understanding royal protocol, reading, writing, and learning the languages of realms which Atlas did business or trades with. He hadn’t needed any further education, according to his father. He simply needed to be a prince.

And look at me now. What good had all that focus on being the spare done for him? He was still the shunned one.

Not that Eryx minded those minor details. At the very least, his father’s punishment, which had lasted the majority of the year, had actually come as a bit of a relief for him in a way. He hadn’t needed to concern himself with life at court, the politics of it all, or the theatrics involved with sitting on a throne that, as far as he was concerned, had always been a little too close to his father’s.

Not to mention, his advisor had managed to do his job over the past year. Mattue made sure Eryx wouldn’t also have to focus on picking a wife, as the king demanded. To be frank, he assumed that was only because doing so would have meant bringing Eryx back to court, so his father could parade women from one end of the realm to the other for the people and his son to appreciate.

It defeated the purpose of hiding Eryx away.

“Sir! All your needs are taken care of with what you’ll find on my table. Sickness, age, or—”

A strong gust of wind came, blowing back the fur-trimmed hood of Eryx’s black, velvet cloak. He turned his head to see the man standing behind a particular booth set in front of a blacksmith’s shop. As soon as the villager’s gaze landed on Eryx atop the horse, he quickly realized who he had been attempting to sell his goods—medicine, likely made by using the blood of mermaids if he had to guess by what was on the table. Although, only a few people in the realm knew how to properly make such things and there were more fakes than there were real in the various markets.

“Prince,” the man breathed, taking a step back from his table to bow at the middle.

Eryx nodded at the man, but just as quickly turned his attention to the road ahead. With his cloak’s hood down around his shoulders, and a scarf tightly wrapped around his throat, his face was on more prominent display while he headed farther into the market. If anything, it helped to get him through the bustling streets filled with everything from a woman selling jewelry to another advertising the sale on her gowns by shouting out of a window.

Chickens wandering the road scattered at the noise of his horse’s hooves beating against the soft ground. A mother was quick to pull her young son—who held onto a small, gray puppy—back from the road when Eryx passed them by as well.

Like most other people in the market who noticed it was the only remaining prince in Atlas coming through, she lowered into a curtsey, bringing her son along with her. And the same way most of the people wouldn’t hold his stare for very long, the woman did the same while she murmured something Eryx couldn’t hear into her son’s ear.

Probably the same whispers he’d been hearing for a while.

The heir …

Shunned and shamed …

Yet, the punishment his father intended for him to suffer through had done very little to teach Eryx anything. Nor did it do very much to teach the people, considering they still bowed when he passed and continued to address him as the royal he was to the rest of the realm.

It seemed to him that he was only a leper to everyone else when they thought he couldn’t hear because publicly, Eryx was still very much the prince he had always been. And since the majority of his days were spent alone where he could enjoy his own thoughts and privacy instead of worry about behaving appropriately for court … well, who had really won here?

Besides, all this time alone had simply allowed Eryx to focus on the more important things in his current life.

Like the mermaid.

And hunting her.

“And finally, he arrives,” came a familiar call.