Loving the Forbidden Prince

ETAN

As the sun began to sink behind the mountains of Summitras in the distance, and the land around him was gilded by the last of its rays, Etan set his jaw and turned away from the bustle and light of the camp towards the trees and uninhabited plains to the east.

They had arrived at the camp hours earlier, but he'd remained busy. But now, finally, he had some time. One of the servants had taken his horse to be tied and fed. Sarya was bathing. His parent's coach had arrived, and he'd seen them settled into their tent. Dinner was at least an hour away, and he decided needed to spend that time alone or he might actually scream.

It was, Etan thought, the most wearying day he'd ever lived through. Sarya was a strong rider and an upbeat travelling companion. But he'd been unable to hide his own darkness and grief. Tensions between them had grown as the day passed, until they rode the final hour in silence, bracketed by their men. 

He'd known he should have tried to reach out, to reassure her. But the idea of giving her reason to smile, to think, to hope on him… it turned his stomach. And so he'd played the sullen, selfish prince. He would apologize to her later. 

They'd both been relieved when they reached the camp on the edge of the border of Zenithra. It had been their goal to get as far from the castle as possible that first day. And though they could still see the shining city on the hill, miles behind them now, Etan did at least feel as if they were no longer under the eyes of Ayleth's father, or the reach of his spies. 

They had three more Kingdoms to cross before they reached Summitras, but the leaders of those lands were mostly less hostile—especially now, with the Peace Accord in place—and since they were such a small party, it was unlikely anyone would recognize him for who he was, as long as he stayed away from his parent's coach.

They'd stopped in a wooded area so their location was harder to see from a distance. The following day, or the day after at the latest, they would be forced to camp on the plains of Andeluve. Servants and messengers had been sent ahead over the previous week to prepare places for the royals to camp, and to draw the guard from Summitras for the final stretch across the Kingdom of Kenka—the warrior clan that were not large enough to be powerful in their own right, but were smart and had allied themselves with Zenithra for generations. 

Border tensions had been high, though they had allowed Summitras to cross their lands for the purpose of the Festival of Peace. That peace would hold now that the Accord had been signed. But Etan would not rest entirely easy until his parents were back on Summitran soil.

But that was the problem for the coming days. Now, there in the quiet evening broken only by the call and clang of the servants preparing a meal behind him, and the rising chirp of the evening bird call ahead, Etan took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh scent of summer grass and the rustle of the wind in the trees around him. 

Despite the inherent dangers of travel, he felt freer than he had since the day he'd crossed into Zenithra with the Calvary. 

But his grief was a heavier burden than he'd ever carried. 

Here, in this place of relative safety, all he could feel was the distance from Ayleth. The bond was utterly silent. Because their distance cleaved it? Or because she'd cut him off? 

In truth, he'd been too tender, too raw to open himself to it. Usually even if he was closed off, when she reached for him through it, he felt it like a whisper fluttering in his hair. But there'd been nothing. All day. 

Had she given up so quickly? 

Could he blame her if she had? 

She was heartbroken. He knew she was, because he was, too. And he'd known it was coming. For her, the shock alone had to have been blinding…

Had her parents already given her to another Kingdom? Etan lifted a fervent, silent prayer to the Father of Lights that she hadn't been forced into another arrangement already. Or that if she had, it was to Trystan, who understood and might protect her without taking her. 

The thought of her being taken by another man made his hands clench and his stomach turn over. He should have found another way. He had to find his way back! He had to get to Quwan as quickly as possible, and pray the advisor knew of a way to break this horrific spell so he could steal Ayleth back, and—

A small boot crunched on a stone behind him and Etan whirled, heart pounding. But it was only Sarya, walking quickly in a clean set of the divided skirts she used for riding astride. 

Her hair was newly brushed and waving around her shoulders, her cheeks pink and her eyes bright. But the expression on her face… 

Etan knew the look of a woman who was angry and trying to hide it. 

His instinct was to tell her to leave him alone, that he would speak with her the following day. But the truth was, they were still close enough to Zenithra for her to rush back to her family and blow the whistle on his disloyalty. He couldn't afford to give Ayleth's mother any reason to be concerned he was returning for her. 

So he stopped to wait for Sarya to catch up to him, bowing as she approached.

"Good evening," he said as politely as he could.

Her eyes were locked on his face and she didn't smile when she returned his greeting. "I thought I would join you. It's good to walk after so many hours in the saddle," she said without the hesitant smile, the gentle prodding she'd given so many times before.

Etan nodded and turned to begin walking again, working not to grind his teeth. They had spent the entire day together. He needed space. Needed to be alone.

Yet, could he blame her? 

This was not the reception she'd envisioned when she'd been invited to travel with them, he was sure. 

"Have the servants kept you comfortable?" he said, his eyes on the trees ahead, the mountains in the distance, the city rising out of the fading light.

"Yes, very."

"Good. Good."

They walked on in silence, until the trail through the trees widened and opened to a clearing. 

The fading light made the whole area look like it was washed in purple. There was a large stump at the center of the clearing, several small bushes scattered about, and a ring of trees that hid it from the surrounding lands and trails. There was the sound of running water, the tinkling laughter of a brook nearby, but out of sight. And the wind continued to kiss the leaves of the trees over their heads. 

Etan would have liked to have sat on the stump by himself, or perhaps laid in the grass and watched the sky turn black and the stars peek out. Instead, he walked with Sarya towards the stump at its center. 

"Today was very… tiring," Sarya said.

"Yes, an early start after a huge day. Tomorrow will be easier after a night of sleep," Etan said by rote. They were about to pass the stump and Etan wondered how far she would want to walk. But Sarya stopped walking and turned to face him.

Etan stopped, politely waiting for her to speak. 

"I think, perhaps," she said carefully, with no preamble, "it's time for us to have a frank discussion.. Here, where there is no one else and we can simply be honest."