Adalynn nodded to her lead escort and straightened her shoulders. After a two day journey they had reached the Lystandian border. The actual border was nothing more than a knee high stone wall with a little gate where the path ended. Why the Lystand delegation had insisted they meet here, she couldn’t understand.
Across the border a lone rider sat mounted on his horse, presumably waiting for her to cross and start her new life. Breathing deep she fortified her heart and resolved to endure. There was no other choice. Once the council had made the decision to marry her off to some Lystand noble in hopes of peace, they had kept her confined to her room. A prisoner in all but name. The Lystandian delegation had not even promised peace, only hinted at it. Yet her own council had been more than happy and willing to hand her over, eager even.
Adalynn was more than a little miffed that she didn’t even know to whom she was being married to. The council had not cared to ask. Thus she was going into an abysmal unknown: uncertain of anything once she took that step over the border. They could be marrying her off to a peasant in a mud hovel and she wouldn’t have a say. According to all the papers she had watched the council sign without even glancing in her direction, it was all final. Where once she was Queen Adalynn of Mourvna, now she was only Adalynn with no foreseeable future.
With a sigh, she spurred her horse forward, well aware that while everyone surrounding her was watching to see that she crossed the border and made it to the Lystandian delegation of one, no one would be coming with her.
Nudging her grey mare forward she kept her head held high and moved directly to the man waiting. With great care Adalynn pointedly refused to look back. Her whole kingdom was abandoning her but she didn’t have to watch them turn their backs.
Her waiting escort only looked at her, no hint that he ever smiled. Even without any kindness softening his features he looked strong and capable, as if he had seen several lifetimes. He was young, possibly only a few years older than herself. What was the Lystandian monarchy thinking, only sending one man to bring her back? Would she be safe? Or were they hoping she would not make it to their destination unharmed?
When he saw her looking in his direction he nodded once, possibly in greeting, before turning his horse away and into the trees. Adalynn’s squared shoulders deflated slightly and she nudged her horse to follow him.
It was several hours of mindless plodding before he stopped and looked back to see if she was still there. Adalynn found she didn’t care. Her emotions had gone cold, her heart lost in its frosty whirl, as she blankly stared after him so as not to get lost. Her life may be over but she wasn’t going to die out in the middle of nowhere.
When her horse pulled to a stop she quickly jerked to attention and looked around.
The man was right in front of her reaching out his hand. Unblinking she looked at it.
“Do you need to stop?” His warm voice trickled into her weary thoughts. It wasn’t until he spoke that she realized how cold she was; so stiff she couldn’t find the will to move much.
“C-cold.” She whimpered, hating herself for sounding so weak.
With an abrupt nod his proffered hand snaked around her waist and pulled her off her horse and into his arms. He cradled her against him with ease. Nestled into his chest, she weakly attempted to escape his embrace but he didn’t move.
With her title and Mourvnan custom demanding she not be touched anywhere but her left hand, she hadn’t been held so completely for so long that the sensation of his arms overwhelmed her.
“What are you doing?” She demanded even while she was shivering uncontrollably.
Again his deep voice deliciously heated her senses as he gruffed. “You are too cold. If I don’t get you warm soon you won’t make it much further.”
As he was speaking, he rubbed her arms. At first the feel of her thick coat against her arm chafed, hurting the highly sensitized skin. Slowly she began to feel the friction and exhaled in a sigh as the warmth along her skin seemed to penetrate deeper, giving her a relief she hadn’t realized she’d needed. Adalynn looked back and up into his face, her head cradled by his shoulder. “Do you know what is going to happen to me or are you just a messenger?”
“I wouldn’t say just a messenger but yes I do know what you have to look forward to.” He didn’t look away. For just a moment she thought she saw anger skim across the features of his face, disappearing as quickly as it had surfaced.
A trickle of fear rolled through her. “Am I in for a rough adjustment?”
“They didn’t tell you anything?” His anger returned but mixed with something else. Concern? Or was it irritation? Was she supposed to already know and be prepared? From years as queen she squelched the panic rising up her throat and maintained an outward calm.
“I was not consulted nor informed of anything.” Adalynn looked away and out at the snow surrounding them.
“Forgive me. I assumed you knew what was ahead.” He shook his head. “And no, it will not be a hard adjustment. Not if I can help it.”
“You?” Her eyes snapped back to him, locking on to his.
He nodded, holding her gaze as he continued to hold her close.
“Who are you?” Her curiosity combined with her near frozenness eliminated any of her careful diplomatic tact.
“Zayne, son of the Kalen, our kingdom’s equivalent of a king.”
“Oh.” She blushed and once again tried to extract herself from his embrace. “Forgive me for not knowing. The Mourvnan Council has kept much from me since my father’s death.”
He shook his head roughly, not looking at her. “You should have been told.” He paused. He hesitated to look at her face. “Did they not tell you who you are to marry?”
“No.”
Adalynn felt him exhale forcefully and she shivered again.
