The War of Two Queens (Blood and Ash 4)

Emil rode to my left and had never looked more serious than he did now, continuously scanning the thickly clustered trees. Kieran was to my right. It was just the three of us riding toward Oak Ambler.

Or so it appeared.

I wanted to give those at the Rise a chance to make the right decision. Showing up with an army would immediately put them on the defensive, making it unlikely they’d open the gates and allow anyone who wished to leave to do so.

But we were not alone.

The wolven had spread out through the forest, moving quietly as they looked for Solis soldiers possibly hidden among the pines.

Weight pressed down on my chest, stirring the pulsing eather in my core as Setti crossed a narrow creek that had overtaken the road, kicking up water and loose soil. We’d been on the brink of war when the Blood Queen killed Ian and took Casteel. The war had started when I killed King Jalara. But this…this was the first battle. My hold on the reins tightened as my heart thumped heavily.

This was really happening.

For some reason, it hadn’t struck me until now—that this felt different than Massene. This was actual war. All the planning and waiting, and now it felt surreal.

What if no one took the chance to trust us? What if they all remained in the city, even the Descenters? My heart began thumping heavily as the potential for the kind of carnage I wanted to prevent became more and more likely with each passing minute.

I couldn’t help but think that if Casteel were here, he would say something to lighten the mood. He’d bring a smile to my face, despite what awaited us. He would also probably say something that annoyed me…and also secretly thrilled me.

And he would definitely, definitely like the armor and weapons.

“There,” Kieran advised quietly. “Ahead and to our left.”

Too afraid to allow my mind to speculate about what he’d seen, I scanned the fractured sunlight.

“I see them,” Emil confirmed at the same moment I saw.

Mortals.

They walked along the sides of the dirt road, several dozen—maybe even a hundred. They slowed as they spotted us and moved farther away from the trodden path, giving us a wide berth. I tried to dredge up some semblance of relief, but the group ahead wasn’t nearly big enough when tens of thousands lived in Oak Ambler.

The deep breath I took erased the disappointment I felt settling into my bones. A hundred was better than none.

Emil guided his horse closer to Setti as we neared the group of mortals, many of which carried large sacks upon their backs and in their arms. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that he had slid his gloved hand to the hilt of his sword. I noticed Kieran tense beside me. I knew he too had moved a hand closer to a weapon.

I opened my senses to them and almost wished I hadn’t. All I tasted was a nearly overwhelming mixture of thick concern and fear-coated dread. Their drawn features mirrored what they felt—twisting faces of those most likely only in their second or third decades of life. Mortals who had lived so many years under the Ascended’s rule.

They slowed and then stopped, staring in silence as we rode past. Their gazes pressed upon me, and a few in the crowd were so worried that they projected their emotions, thickening the air around us. I managed to close down my senses.

After spending so many years forbidden to be looked upon and veiled, I still wasn’t used to this. To being seen. Every muscle in my body felt as if it would start twitching under so many open stares, and it took all my effort not to start squirming.

I didn’t smile as I looked down at them. Not because I worried that I looked foolish—which would’ve concerned me in any other situation—but because it didn’t seem right when none looked me directly in the eye, either out of fear or uncertainty.

None except a small child toward the edge of the group.

The young girl’s gaze met mine, her cheek resting on what I assumed was her father’s shoulder. I wondered what she saw. A stranger? A scarred Queen? A face that would haunt her sleep? Or did she see a liberator? A possible friend? Hope? I watched the mother, who walked close to the two, place her hand on the little girl’s back, and then I wondered if that was why they’d taken this risk. Because they wanted a different future for their daughter.

“Poppy,” Emil warned quietly, drawing my attention. I slowed Setti.

Farther down, a man had stepped away from a pale-faced woman who held a boy barely reaching the waist of her cream, woolen coat.

“Please. I mean no harm,” the man spoke thickly, words spilling from his trembling lips in a rush. “M-my name is Ramon. We just had a Rite. Less than a week ago,” he said. My stomach clenched as he glanced at Kieran and then Emil. “They took our second son. His name is Abel.”