Page 19 of The Dark Prince
“It’s not a crime, you know,” Maddeus whispered in my ear as Isadora dozed. There wasn’t much else for her to do.
“What?” I hissed back, the pain in my shoulder shortening my patience.
“To like your wife,” he shot back, smirking. He clicked his tongue and his horse took off toward the front, so I said nothing back.
Coward.
Thank the gods, Isadora hadn’t heard him.
As we rode, I slowly realized that Isadora’s closeness to me wasn’t out of desire, but sheer need. Her body wracked with tremors, and her teeth chattered loudly even with my cloak around her. It was damp and cold.
Inwardly, I cursed. She’d fallen into the snow during the battle, and her clothes were already inappropriate for this climate. Why hadn’t I ensured she had proper clothes before leaving? I’d been in such a tizzy to put Perron and his manor behind us. I hadn't thought about what was best for Isadora.
I’d only thought of myself.
I was used to looking out for others—my village, my people, and my lands. I wasn’t used to having one person to focus on.
I would have to do better.
I checked the surrounding land, thinking. There were a few remote tribes in this area that kept to themselves, some more standoffish than others. If we kept riding today, we could reach Mosfell by evening.
I groaned. I tried to avoid visiting because the people there would insist I stay for days, if not weeks. They would dance and drink and feast, fussing over me until I let my guard down enough that I put them all in danger.
Isadora needed a bit of fussing, however. And clothes. And a decent fire and hot soup in her belly.
Mosfell it was.
It was a rough day of travel. The wind grew fiercer the more we traveled north, and it harshly reminded me with each tremor from Isadora that we did not dress her for this climate. The northern wind cut through my clothes like a knife, and I raised a hand to my men to signal I was stopping suddenly.
Maddeus pulled up alongside me a moment later, dismounting.
“Help me turn her,” I demanded, stripping off my gloves and the heavy coat I wore underneath my tunic.
Maddeus blinked in surprise, but helped get Isadora lifted and turned around on the horse so she was facing me. She moaned in her sleep at the loss of my heat, then instinctively pressed into the heat of my body after Maddeus turned her around. We peeled the wet cloak off of her and packed it away. I threw my coat over her shoulders, hoping it contained some residual heat from my body.
“Put these on,” I ordered, pushing my gloves at her. She blinked herself awake, realizing she was facing me.
I was self-conscious of my scarred hands and tried to keep the reins covering the worst of it. Isadora wasn’t even looking at me. She fumbled as she tried to get the large leather gloves over her much smaller hands.
“Allow me,” Maddeus offered, and I shot him a look of thanks.
Her hands safely gloved, Isadora huddled into my body heat and Maddeus tucked his own cloak around her to keep as much heat in as possible. I gave him a look of thanks.
“I c-can’t feel my feet.…” She shuddered against me.
I felt a pang in my heart. “I cannot do much about that. I promise we will be somewhere warm tonight. Hold on until then.”
She nodded, then buried her cold nose into my chest.
“Let’s go,” I called out, and we took off at a faster pace.
Her trembling eased somewhat and eventually she became too distracted by the beauty of the land peering over my shoulder. Not that I blamed her.
The winter landscape was breathtaking.
Her own manor had green hills and valleys, but nothing that touched the massive alps that rose before us now, their peaks covered in ice and snow. They rose to greet us from the north as forests around us, dense and pressing, as the open tundra narrowed.
Snow and ice were everywhere, laying out a blinding path all around us. She couldn’t stop staring at the sparkling snow, but the novelty must have soon worn off, for she quickly buried her head against me again. No doubt she had a headache from how bright it was. It had taken my eyes a while to adjust when I was young.
