She pushed a breath out to slow her heart. The name didn’t even bother her. She just needed to be angry at something—at him. She needed the anger. It was the only thing holding her together. A soldier returned with another bowl of soup, and Mikael held it out to her.
Her eyes welled, and she took it.
“Do you want some bread?” he asked.
A tear rolled down her cheek, and she shook her head.
He gave a gentle smile and sat down beside her. Then he held out a bread roll.
Another tear fell as she took it, but there was a warmth about him that surprised her, and settled her.
He sat in silence with her as she ate the bread and drained the second helping of soup. She could have downed a third, but she didn’t dare say it. When she’d finished, he said, “My kingdom has good food.” The corner of his mouth turned up. “That’s important to you, yes?”
She wiped her lips and held her empty bowl. “What?”
He shrugged. “You eat a lot.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged again. “That you eat a lot.”
She stared at him. Was that a bad thing? She ate like a perfectly normal person. Yes, Alexander may have occasionally teased her…
She jerked. Alexander. They’d be heading back to Mercia. She set the bowl down. “Have they departed?”
“They’re preparing now. Go to the cliff. You’ll see them.”
Norah rose quickly from the bed. As she pulled on her cloak, the fastening caught in her hair. She tried to pull it free, but it held in the braid. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she fumbled with it in front of him. He rose and stepped forward, stopping her. Gently, he untangled the locks from the clasp and straightened the cloak over her shoulders.
She wavered for a moment. “Thank you,” she breathed. Their gazes caught each other, and they stilled. The darks of his eyes held her, quieted her.
Alexander, she remembered.
She peeled herself away, and then she ducked out of the tent, hurrying toward the cliff and freeing her tresses from the disheveled braid as she went. She reached the edge, out of breath. The wind blew her hair wildly around her as she looked down at her army. She saw the horses and the wagons of food the Shadow army had delivered.
And she saw Alexander.
He was already mounted on his horse, conferring with his soldiers. One pointed up at her and he spun to see her.
The army started their march. The cold of the wind burned her skin, but she stayed and watched them leave. Alexander waited for the last soldier to depart, still looking up at her. He raised his sword to her—a silent vow. With a last longing look, he turned to join the army back to Mercia.
Norah made her way to her tent. She expected another rush of emotion to come. But it didn’t. Perhaps the weight of everything had taken all the emotion. Maybe she had nothing left. She reached the tent where the king still waited inside.
“We’ll depart shortly,” he told her.
“I’d like to change, if that’s all right.” Tahla had given her a leather-and-linen layered dress to meet her army, and like Mercian dresses, it wasn’t made with comfort in mind. She’d rather wear the riding dress for the journey to the Shadowlands.
“Of course,” he said with a small nod, and stepped out to tend his army.
She stripped off the heavy dress and stood for a moment, naked, letting the chill of the air clear her mind and quiet her soul. Then she put on her breeches and boots and pulled the riding dress over her head. She cursed under her breath as she found she could only tie it loosely behind. Why must all dresses have fastenings in the back? She reached behind awkwardly, trying to pull the leather lacing tighter, tempted to don the weapon boy’s clothing once more instead.
Mikael entered, startling her, and she quickly turned her back to him, flushing.
“I’m sorry. I thought I’d allowed enough time,” he said.
Norah turned her head, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. She paused for a moment, gathering her courage, then asked, “Can you help me?”
He stepped toward her slowly.
She reached up and pulled her hair away, waiting.
“Would you like it tighter?” he asked.
“Please.”
He pulled the hastily tied bow undone and paused, letting his fingers skim the skin between the edging. Her skin prickled.
“I want to see you,” he said, his voice low and thick. “Would that imperil your honor?”
She looked back over her shoulder. His brazenness astonished her. “No, but it doesn’t mean I’ll let you.”
He chuckled and fixed the lacing tighter. Then he stepped closer, and she felt his breath in her ear. “Are you unmoved by a man’s suffering? You’d make a decent torturer.”
A flush crept up her skin. She knew it was a jest, but there was an underlying message of desire. What bothered her more was that she liked it. She turned around, eyeing him boldly. “You’d make a decent lady-in-waiting,” she said, then ducked out of the tent to prepare for their departure.
The Shadowlands were well suited to their name. They rode between the canyon cliffs that towered over them and held back the light—they were dark and foreboding, like the men they homed. It took a full day to reach the end of the labyrinth, where the trail opened and the rocky darkness fell away to reveal the beauty of terraced mountains, even in their winter slumber.
Norah’s eyes widened. It was like stepping into another world.
Mikael nodded out over the terraces. “In the spring and summer, this will all be lush and green. It will be beautiful.”
“It’s already beautiful,” she said. She hadn’t imagined a place of such dark renown could be so lovely. She noticed the paddy fields. “The Shadowlands grow rice? Is that your trade?”
“Our main one, yes.”
“Is that what you trade with the Horsemen?” That must be how he’d become so close to the tribes.
“It’s what we trade through the Horsemen, with everyone,” he told her. “Including the North.”
Norah’s brows creased. “Mercia doesn’t get their rice from the Shadowlands.”
He chuckled. “The whole world gets their rice from us. They just don’t know it.”
Norah shook her head, amazed. “The Horsemen take it to market for you?” she asked. She thought longer. “Do you feed them as well? Is that what Tahla meant when she said Abilash dare not defy you, unless they want to starve?”
He didn’t answer, but his smirk told her it was.
“Do you control all the Horsemen tribes?” she asked, her curiosity growing.
“Most. Not all.”
She thought about their departure from King Abilash and what Tahla had told her. “Do you think there will be consequences with Abilash now?”
“If so, I’ll deal with them, but they’re of no matter.” He looked at her. “I have what I want.”
A wave rolled through her stomach, stirring feelings that confused her. Despite their history and start, he had been kind to her, protected her, this Shadow King with his destroyer of men. “Tahla told me what happened at Choan, how you saved the Uru.”
He shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. “You believe her?”