Page 5 of The Awakening of Essensia

Jon frowned. “You mean Scarlett? I wouldn’t say I’m seeing her.”

“You’ve been seeing her every night for the past month,” Vaelira raised a brow, stepping out into the morning and shielding her eyes against the pale light.

The ocean breeze met her with a brisk chill, scattering pale blushrose petals from the pot of blossoms across the road. Delicate leaves lifted into the air and tumbled down the street like ash on the wind.

“Yes, well,” Jon pursed his lips. “I don’t think she wants anything serious.”

Vaelira squeezed his arm. “Why don’t you ask her before you make assumptions?” She smiled up at him. “I have to go.”

“Ah salts, I forgot.” Jon smacked his forehead. “A messenger came. Change of plans. You have to report to the stables.”

“But the archery range is at the barracks?”

Jon shrugged. “Just passing along the message.”

By the time she reached the stables, her breath was ragged and a cold sweat trickled down her neck. What was usually a distance she could run with ease, had become difficult at a walk. She was going to break Rurik’s nose if she saw him again.

The barn bustled with movement. Horses shifted nervously in their stalls, stomping their hooves against the packed dirt. No one glanced her way, the recruits too busy saddling mounts, checking bowstrings, or counting arrows.

The familiar stink of manure and straw rushed to meet her, faded memories rising with it.

She remembered strong arms lifting her into the saddle.

The feel of thick leather reins in her small hands.

A deep comforting laugh…

A life that felt a world away.

As she neared her mare’s stall, Vaelira caught a glimpse of Commander Lysander at the far end of the barn, talking with two men. Their hoods were down now, and she saw the faces of the Royal Guards for the first time.

One was older than the other by decades, with a proud nose and short silver hair. The younger guard was probably no more than a few years her senior, with cropped dark hair and a jaw too sharp for the gentle curve of his nose.

The Commander glanced her way with a small nod. She forced a smile at the attempted reassurance, trying not to think about who was responsible for her being paired with Rurik in the first place, then she swung open the gate to Millie’s stall.

A body slammed into her, slender arms wrapping around her neck.

“Thank the Gods,” Freya said, abandoning the saddle she had been tightening to pull Vaelira into a tight embrace. Vaelira’s throat tightened as pain lanced through her side.

“I tried to see you after my fight,” Freya continued, “but Kili wouldn’t let me into the San. Is it bad?”

“I’m fine,” Vaelira said for the second time that morning, and just as untruthfully.

Freya didn’t look convinced but nodded anyway. “I thought I would get Millie ready for you just in case. Good thing I did.”

“Thanks,” Vaelira said, giving her friend a grateful smile. “How come we’re saddling up?”

“Apparently those golden guards weren’t impressed by our display yesterday. They wanted to see something more challenging.” Freya rolled her eyes, drawing out the last word with a shrug.

“And how exactly do you know that?” Vaelira raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, you know,” Freya shrugged again. “Wren,” she added, pursing her lips and avoiding Vaelira’s eye.

Vaelira slapped her lightly on the arm. “You’re still seeing him?” she said incredulously. “I thought Commander Lysander put a stop to that. Something about senior members of the Guard not getting involved with recruits. Ring any bells?”

“Oh hush,” Freya said, waving her off.

Vaelira rolled her eyes. “Go.” She shoved Freya out of the stall. “At least one of us needs to make it through this.”