Loving the Forbidden Prince

210  Nighttime in the City

AYLETH

When Falek had tugged her away from Etan and Borsche, down a side street, she'd assumed it was an agreed destination and started after him, expecting the other two to follow. But no more than a minute later she could feel the bond growing distant and soon after, sendings of love and comfort from Etan.

"What's going on?" she hissed at Falek, her hood still up and high so she had to turn all the way around in her saddle to see behind her—but there was no sign of Etan or Borsche.

"We're meeting at the opposite gate in three hours," Falek muttered below the level of noise in the street. "Don't panic."

"But we weren't supposed to separate!"

"This is a much safer way to travel, given the announcement. Eyes will naturally look for young couples—and red hair. Keep your cloak up Ariel," he said pointedly, "We'll return to your betrothed soon."

Grinding her teeth—and fighting a jabbering fear—Ayleth did as she was told and dropped her eyes to her hands and let herself slump in the saddle as if she were tired and only waiting until they could get off the horses.

The truth was, it wasn't hard to slump. She was exhausted. And dirty. And sore. But now her entire body hummed with tension and she had to fight the urge to scan the street for signs of Etan.

An hour later, though, her tension had turned to outright fear.

They'd turned into one of the many squares that peppered the City, only to find some kind of mob gathered—men with everything from swords to pitchforks, all listening to the messenger, whose horse now stood with its head down, feet splayed, and sides heaving, sucking at the air while it could.

Ayleth's heart went out to the beast. She prayed the reason they were stopped was because the messenger was stopping for the night at one of the inns here.

But they had a bigger problem—the crowd filled the square so that no one could move through easily. Walking horses through would only draw attention to them—and in a moment when everyone's mind was on the coming war between Zenithra and Summitras.

With a muttered curse, Falek turned his horse around Ayleth's and they back tracked between the buildings until they found a cross street and could weave their way back. But by the time they moved down another main street, Ayleth estimated they had lost at least twenty minutes.

Falek, too, seemed tense, barely speaking, his eyes darting left and right. At every corner citizens and merchants stood, discussing the war, discussing the abduction. Discussing her.

Ayleth's heart pounded.

War.

She couldn't believe they'd done it. They'd declared war during the Peace Accord.

Even though she knew most of the nations had probably encouraged them to it—would have done in the same if their own heirs were kidnapped—she also knew that her parents knew she hadn't been kidnapped.

They were using this to create the final nail in the coffin for the Summitrans—which would mean calling all the other allied nations into war during the Peace Accord as well.

Was it her fault? Had she single-handedly pulled apart the longest and most esteemed tradition on the continent?

Was there anything she could do to avoid this, now?

She kept looking at Falek, trying to find an opening to ask him, but he was so busy studying their surroundings, calculating passage through the tight, winding streets that didn't run in straight, orderly lines, but instead serpentine through the city—sometimes drawing them in the opposite direction to the one they wished to take.

She knew they were at threat of not making it to the gates in time when the shadows drew in enough that the lantern lighters appeared in the streets, and the merchants began to pack their wares.

Falek casually pulled over to speak with one woman who was packing a fruit wagon that was oddly decorated with a thick, blue drape at its front. Very grand for such a humble stall.

He stopped the horse and stared at her while she worked with her back to them. He seemed incredibly tense, suddenly. As if danger were right around the corner. Were they too late? Was that it?

He dismounted, which surprised Ayleth, but still didn't approach her, hesitating. But the woman must have felt his scrutiny because she turned, then froze. She blinked, then scanned him from his boots to his crown, her eyes suddenly hungry.

Falek stepped right up to her and she stared into his face, but her expression was wary. Falek still hadn't spoken and Ayleth was about to speak for him—what on earth was wrong with the man? But then suddenly they both flew into action.

Falek flipped the woman a coin that she caught handily from the air, then looked back to his face with a nod.

"How might I help you, my Lord?" she asked, her wide eyes suddenly bright and approving, sliding to scan Ayleth. Probably to measure whether they were romantically entwined. The nerve of some people!

 Falek cleared his throat. "My ward and I must travel out early in the morning. Which inn is closest to the Northern gate, and how long will it take to get there?"

"You want the Daily Rest, my Lord," the woman said, her smile tipping up on one side in a way that made Ayleth sniff.

She didn't personally find Falek in the slightest bit attractive, but she knew he drew eyes from women wherever they went. They weren't usually so… bold about it, though.

"Thank you. Can you tell me the fastest route? We've been travelling a great deal and I'd like to get my ward to rest."

"Straight down the mainway, Lord. Only a few minutes now, but you'll want to hurry. It always fills up with the last of the travelers that make it in before the gates close, which they'll be doing when the bells—"

She cut off as the bells rang overhead, echoing across the city, steeples clanging in answer to each other at the four corners, north, south, east, and west.

Ayleth gasped, and Falek looked at her sharply so that she shut her mouth and dropped her head, but her heart raced. They were too late? The gates were already closing?

"Thank you," Falek said with a gallant bow to the woman, then flipped her another coin.

Which she caught again, but this time her gaze seemed… irritated?

"Anytime my lord," she said through her teeth. "And once your ward is… resting, you're welcome to come to the Fudge and Bitters. We're a loud lot, but the ale is good and we're welcoming to strangers. Most in the city aren't, if you know what I mean," she said with a sly smile.

"Very good. Perhaps I will see you later this evening," Falek said, nodding again. Still not smiling. But he mounted quickly and turned his horse in the direction the woman had indicated without another word.

Ayleth just about cursed. She stared at his back as they began to ride, trotting down the main street, following the gutter.

When he didn't talk, she waited only until she was certain they would be out of earshot of the woman.

"Flirting, Falek? Seriously? At a time like this?"

"She is one of my eyes and ears in this city, and she's just given me very valuable information," he muttered. "Now, hush until we know for certain exactly what we're dealing with."

A minute later they trotted into the wide courtyard on this side of the gateway and were forced to slow. The woman hadn't been wrong, there was a thick, milling crowd, animals and wagons, and on the other side which would take minutes to navigate thanks to the thick crowd, to Ayleth's dismay she could see the closing gap of light as the gates were raised into place for the night with a boom that shook Ayleth's lungs.

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