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“Mar-sooo-pee-uls,” she intoned, as if he were slow-witted. “Not rodents. Rats and mice are rodents. Lambskins, well technically they’re called—”
“I know what a marsupial is, and I know what that creature in that blasted tree is. Regardless, you will refrain from this behavior. This is non-negotiable. Do not test me.”
Her cheeks flushed with color, and her blue-green eyes blazed. Fadon’s stomach did a strange flip.
“You may be my husband, my lord, by proxy, but that does not mean I will let you treat me like a wife. Nor am I one of your men to command. It’s bad enough the way you talk to—”
“Whoa there, my lady.” Jon said, suddenly pulling her back away from Fadon, who seemed startled at finding how close he and Sierra had been standing during this baffling conversation, almost nose-to-nose.
“Lucinda is looking for you. She seemed upset,” Jon offered, the lies rolling out of his mouth like honey. “I couldn’t make heads or tails of what she was carrying on about.”
Sierra, whose shoulders were rising and falling with obvious temper, pulled her gaze away from Fadon and looked at Jon. “What?”
“Lucinda needs you,” Jon answered.
“Right,” she mumbled, seeming to wake up, then trotted off.
“By Ongar, seems everyone’s temper is up,” Jon mused. “I suggest a walk, my friend,” Jon patted Fadon on the back.
Fadon only nodded, agreeing with him. His blood was up, and who knew what he’d say if he didn’t bring it down.
An hour later, as he walked back into the camp after cooling his temper and reorganizing his thoughts, he checked on the status of the coach. The fix would do. It wasn’t perfect, but preparing for the oncoming storm was more important.
Soon, everything was ready, and Fadon gave the order to ride back south. The temperature dropped as they rode, and the energy of the envoy was focused and determined. There were no jokes or good-natured ribbing amongst them like there had been the past few days. They all seemed collectively concentrating on finding shelter.
Thankfully, the princess and her watcher were safely ensconced inside the carriage, warm and, most importantly to Fadon, accounted for. He still couldn’t get over that little tree-climbing stunt. The girl was spoiled, that was the problem. Her parents had let her have free rein, had coddled her whims. He could only imagine what kind of joining his free-natured brother and her would have. Chaos.
Fadon grimaced as he led Apollo onward. At least Sierra had recovered from whatever ailed her last week. He had been prepared to face the possibility that she may not survive some strange fever, but she did survive it. The past few days she had been rosy-cheeked and all merriment.
Sometimes, he would watch her when they camped for the night, how she leaned forward expectantly when Jon told stories of old. How her eyes lit up when she learned something new about the Ongahri. How being in the wild, surrounded night and day by nature, seemed to capture a sense of wanderlust in her.
He also saw her disappointment when she tried to start a conversation with Fadon’s men, how they were cordial but distant, and how she probably interpreted their disinterest as dislike. The truth, however, was that she belonged to another. Ongahri males always kept their distance from a man’s mate. They were simply being respectful.
She had too much passion, thought Fadon. An only child, curious and bright, privileged, and so damn naive. Fadon would hate to see that spirit broken, but she was one of them now, and needed to learn, the sooner the better, that there were certain boundaries put in place, there for a reason, and to never cross them. Especially as the wife of an Ongahri Alpha prince.
The envoy drove onward as the storm crept closer, and Fadon stopped thinking about his brother’s betrothed, instead making mental lists of things he and his men needed to do once they found shelter.
In no time at all, they spotted the place Jon had mentioned. And thank Ongar, there was indeed a cave.
Fadon and Jon spouted out orders left and right. Demos volunteered to help tend to their mounts, and Lucinda tended to Sierra once the cave had been cleared of old animal habitation and debris.
Night fell fast, and the snow started to fall, first softly, then steadily, blanketing the ground and eradicating all traces of the Ongahri’s arrival.
Inside their shelter, a fire lit the cave walls and brought them warmth, away from the entrance which, when they first explored it, seemed too small to fit anyone except large animals. But the entrance widened the further inside they went, ending in a dome-shaped area that provided plenty of room for their needs.
It was right after their meal when everything went wrong.
Chapter 14
Sierra
I had been feeling off all day. A restless tension seemed to have settled in my muscles. I was short-tempered with Lucinda, frustrated with the selection of books I had packed, and sick of being cooped up in the carriage. And then that encounter with the Ongahri captain, where my mouth had almost gotten away from me.
Oh, I had been so mad at him! How he dared to speak to me like I was a child, his child. All I had wanted was to catch the lambskin—which, I found to my dismay, was starting to be a precursor to trouble.
So, when we were told we’d be circling back to seek shelter from an oncoming storm, I just about cursed. I wanted this journey over and done with.
Now, in the warmth of a deep cave, surrounded by the envoy, my temper had died down. The restlessness, however, hadn’t abated. To the contrary, my clothes felt too tight. My skin too dry, too hot, too uncomfortable. Had I been home in Providence, I would have taken every stitch of clothing off and ordered a cool bath. But I was here, in the middle of nowhere, stuck in a cave with too many people, and with the exception of one, all happened to be men.
