The next morning was every bit as awkward as the night before, and I hadn’t been able to resist mocking Theo for his adeptness at lacing up my corset. Of course, he had only given me his usual long-suffering expression instead of rising to my bait.
He then proceeded to be exceptionally stuffy the rest of the day, likely to make up for whatever odd moment we had the night before. Or perhaps he was only pouting because Iiro made him sit next to me, so Inessa didn’t have to.
The woman was still either avoiding looking my way, or glaring at me intently as if it would fix whatever deficiencies I had.
Stars, I hope it works. It would make my life a lot easier.
My and Theo’s legs kept bumping, our hands grazing, each moment more uncomfortable than the last, until the feeling of discomfort pervaded over the entire carriage.
My hands moved in fidgety patterns underneath Iiro’s watchful glare. I ignored him, stealing glances at the rocky landscape while only half listening to my lessons on how to act more Socairan.
Just as Theo began droning on about some aspect of Socairan female etiquette, that no doubt involved my simpering silence, I felt it.
It started as a tingling on the nape of my neck. A shift in the pressure of the air around us. That’s when everything began to click into place, and I realized that the tense feeling I had been blaming on my interactions with Theo had a different cause.
A storm was coming.
A big one.
“When are we stopping for the night?” I interrupted Theo, trying to keep the panic from my tone.
“Am I boring you, Princess Rowan?” he sighed.
“Always,” I couldn’t help but shoot back, and Iiro glared at me.
Theo only pursed his lips, glancing out the window. “At least a few more hours, just before nightfall.”
That was too long.
“I think I saw a storm on the horizon,” I lied.
Iiro quirked a condescending eyebrow at me. “My guards mentioned no storm. We’ll carry on as planned.”
Heat flooded my veins, and tension filled my chest. The storm would hit before nightfall, but I had no way of telling them that.
If there was one thing that my mother had drilled into my head, it was the importance of keeping my fae blood a secret.
There were people who hunted us, even now, even though all I had to show for it was an incredibly useless skill and subtle points to my ears. They would still want my blood, want to experiment on it, to see what I could do, or to force me to have their children.
So I tried again, a little more definitively. “I’ve always been fascinated by the weather. I’ve studied it extensively, and I’m quite sure there’s a storm coming.”
“And I’m quite sure a lifetime in Socair has given my guards significantly more knowledge on our weather patterns than the few days you’ve spent indoors here.”
“Indeed.” I forced an accommodating smile to my lips.
Perhaps this was the real reason women in Socair weren’t allowed to go around armed. So they didn’t stab the pompous Socairan men in their patronizing faces.
Still, I couldn’t let it go.
This storm sent off warning bells all along my spine. It was going to be massive, and being trapped in it could be deadly. I had to do everything I could to make them hear me.
“It’s only that, I was injured some years ago. I broke my—er—toe, and now it acts up before a storm.” As soon as the words escaped my mouth, I wanted to take them back.
Really, Rowan, you couldn’t have thought of anything better than that? Where was Davin when I needed him. He was a far better liar than I was. He would have found a way to make them take this seriously.
“Your toe?” Iiro narrowed his eyes like he knew I was fibbing but couldn’t quite figure out why. Which was fair, since I most definitely was lying, just not about the storm.
“Yes.” I was in this now. “My toe. I call it my weather toe, and it’s never wrong.” I heard exactly how ridiculous I sounded.
Theo stared at me like I had grown a second head, and Inessa’s gaze traveled to my foot in revulsion.
Iiro yanked the curtain over, looking pointedly at the clear blue skies. “Clearly, your predictive appendage has failed you this time.” Sarcasm coated his tone.
“I know it sounds ridiculous—” I began.
“It sounds ridiculous because it is ridiculous!” Iiro all but shouted. Then, in a lower voice. “Amicable and accommodating, Princess. I wonder if you are capable of either. Not another word about the storm.”
I clamped my lips shut, fury edging out the last of my embarrassment. Turning to Theo, I gave him a rare beseeching look. He might not be my ally, but he was the closest thing in a carriage with Inessa and Iiro.
He searched my face for a moment, long enough for the smallest bit of hope to bloom inside me. He surprised me by reaching out a hand and putting it on mine. A thrill went through me, even with the grim circumstances.
But that feeling fled as soon as he opened his mouth.
“I know you are concerned about the Summit,” he began, in an uncharacteristically gentle manner. “But delaying it will not make it any easier.”
I pulled my hand back. I couldn’t entirely blame him, when the excuse I had come up with was a stars-blasted weather toe, but I knew he had seen that I was serious, had seen that I was concerned.
And he had brushed it away as fear when I had never shown him any.
I shook my head, muttering bitterly under my breath. “We’ll be lucky to make it to the Summit at all.”
