Chapter 22

I’d hoped to see both Tamsin and Mira the night before I left for Hadisen. A party kept them late, however, and I found myself sitting alone in our bedroom, pondering whether I should get some sleep or not. I knew the journey ahead was going to be tiring, but I couldn’t stand the thought of missing out on seeing my best friends. That, and I wasn’t sure my nerves would let me sleep anyway.

The two of them finally came in after midnight, catching me mid-yawn. Both put on smiles upon seeing me awake, but I could instantly detect a difference in their moods. Mira seemed subdued, while Tamsin was exuberant.

“What happened?” I asked her.

She began unlacing her emerald-green satin overdress. “Nothing official—but something pretty unofficially serious.”

“Isn’t that a sort of contradiction?” I asked, shooting a conspiratorial look at Mira. She didn’t share my amusement.

“Warren asked me to wait for him,” said Tamsin proudly. “He didn’t promise an engagement—yet—but said I was by far his favorite and that he’d like to make things official with me when he returns. So I promised not to enter into any arrangements until then—though of course, I’ll still go out. No point in sitting around here bored.”

I frowned, troubled by a number of things. “When he returns . . . but that could be a very long time.”

“It’ll be in two weeks, actually.” Tamsin had wiggled out of the dress and now sat in her chemise and petticoats. “He’ll go with your party tomorrow, get things established, and then sail back to report on Hadisen’s affairs and solicit any other help.”

“I suppose that makes sense, but he won’t be in Hadisen for long.”

Hadisen’s inhospitable coastline made it difficult for large ships to get close. So, any substantial shipments of cargo, animals, and other materials needed to be moved overland. That was the way my party would be traveling tomorrow, circling the bay through Denham’s territory and then into Hadisen. The trip took a little over a week. Individuals sailing straight across the bay in small boats could do so in a day. It was useful for messengers and those without cargo, but little more.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll be back soon—possibly with a wife in tow.” Tamsin was shining with pride. “I hope it won’t be awkward if you’re one of my citizens, Adelaide.”

I laughed at that. “Not at all.”

“You must be excited,” said Mira. She looked eager to change the subject. “A great adventure ahead of you.”

“I don’t care about the adventure. I just want everything to be settled with Cedric.”

I spoke boldly and earned looks of admiration and wistfulness. Tamsin might treat marriage pragmatically, and Mira might treat it with indifference, but I frequently had the sense that both were fascinated with—and even a little jealous of—the romantic love I’d stumbled into. The three of us stayed up late and talked about the future. I didn’t want to tell them the truth: that I was a bit terrified of what was to come. Not with Cedric, of course. Leaving a noblewoman’s life for that of an upper-class colonial citizen in a well-established city wasn’t as big a leap as it might seem. But going from nobility to a commoner in a vast, unsettled wilderness? That was something altogether different, and I had no idea what to expect.

Mira and Tamsin were allowed to see me off the next morning. The party leaving for Hadisen was far bigger than I expected. They gathered on the edge of town, a vast cavalcade of horses, wagons, and people in seeming disarray. Warren was near the front, looking splendid on a white horse as he spoke to several other men who seemed to be advisors. Another rider trotted up to us, and I did a double take when I saw it was Cedric.

“Are you on a horse?” I exclaimed.

He shot me a wry look. “You don’t have to make it sound quite so outlandish.”

“I just didn’t even know you could ride.” I looked the horse over. She was a shaggy brown mare who seemed to be bored with everything going on around her. “I hope you didn’t pay a lot for her.”

“I wasn’t aware you were such an expert.” I understood the cautioning tone in his voice. Horseback riding was a common pastime for the nobility in Osfrid when they were at the country manors. Here in Adoria, many settlers rode horses for survival. But a city commoner, like my Adelaide identity, would never interact with a horse outside of practical transport. I would’ve expected the same for someone like Cedric.

“I’ve seen them around, that’s all,” I said. I had to restrain myself from correcting the awkward way he sat his saddle and held the reins.

“Well, she’s tougher than she looks,” he assured me. “I call her Lizzie.”

I tried not to roll my eyes. “Great choice.”

Looking around, I saw that Tamsin was up talking to Warren, her face shining. Mira too had disappeared, and moments later, I spied her listening to some men making plans to explore Hadisen. Not far from her was Grant Elliott, who appeared to be delivering some last-minute supplies.

“My allies have abandoned me,” I remarked.

Cedric leaned down and brushed some wayward tendrils from my face. The intimacy startled me until I realized we had nothing left to hide. “You’ve still got your number-one ally,” he said, although he frowned when he saw whom I’d been watching. “Grant Elliott seemed decent enough on the ship, but it turns out he’s joined Warren’s group of heretic hunters.”

“Heretic hunters?”

“Yeah, there’s a group of them promising to ‘keep order’ while Warren’s away, and find the Star Advent Alanzans who escaped from jail. Grant’s among them.”

“Well, then I’m sorry I gave him my business.” I touched the wide-brimmed hat on my head. “Maybe I should try to return this.”

“Don’t,” said Cedric. “It’s cute.”

I wished I could ride too, but the meager funds he and I shared couldn’t cover a second horse. That, and my riding skills would have raised suspicions. Instead, I’d be riding in the Marshalls’ wagon, something that sounded more luxurious than the reality. It was a plain, rough-planked contraption packed with various supplies that the children and I would have to squeeze in around. It had no top, and I hoped we wouldn’t run into any rain.

At last, Warren called for everyone’s attention. “It’s time,” he called, his voice ringing above the throng. “Time to claim our destiny!”

Settlers and well-wishers alike cheered, and even I couldn’t help getting caught up in the spirit of adventure. I hugged Tamsin and Mira goodbye and then climbed up into the back of the wagon. I was saving the split skirts for when we reached Hadisen. For the journey, I was in a calico dress that was as barebones as one could get. No chemise, no petticoats—just a simple lining underneath. If not for the floral print, it could have passed for one of the Grashond dresses.

My spot in the wagon was a cramped and narrow one between two bundled crates. The planks I had to sit on were dirty and worn, and trying to clean them only resulted in getting splinters. Five minutes into the ride, I learned that there was no shock absorption of any kind.

I leaned back against the wagon’s side, thinking of what we’d always called the “rose parlor” back in my family’s Osfro home. Elaborately designed rugs covering every inch of the floor. Velvet-covered wallpaper. One-of-a-kind paintings. Vases imported from the Xin lands far to the east. Chairs and sofas with padding so thick, you would sink into them. And of course, everything was meticulously cleaned on a daily basis by a flock of servants.

“What’s wrong?” asked one of the Marshall girls. Her name was Sarah.

I glanced over at Cedric riding that ridiculous horse. “Nothing. Just thinking I’ve come a long ways.”

Within an hour, we were out of the city’s limits, past the fort and its skeleton crew of soldiers. A few hours after that, we’d moved past all of Cape Triumph’s small outlying settlements. I’d thought the wilderness had a claim on that town, but I was wrong. The far reaches of Denham Colony looked as though no human had ever touched them. The towering trees that had stood like sentinels in Cape Triumph now formed a veritable army, side by side, at times making the rough road difficult to traverse. It was fascinating. Breathtaking. Terrifying. The real New World.

My starry-eyed enthusiasm didn’t last long. When we called a halt for the night, my legs nearly collapsed underneath me when I got out of the wagon. The constant shaking and close quarters had cramped my muscles, producing a soreness I would have expected only after running uphill for five hours. Dinner was dried biscuits and jerky, little better than the ship’s fare. Fires were built for heat and boiling water, and I was sent to gather wood from fallen branches. Mostly I seemed to gather splinters.

Cedric, like most of the younger men in the party, was kept busy with various jobs, so after a quick smile at dinnertime, he disappeared for the rest of the evening. When bedtime came, Mister and Mistress Marshall slept in the wagon while the rest of the kids and I made beds of blankets on the ground. The earth below me was hard and uneven. The blanket couldn’t keep me warm as night’s chill deepened, so I’d added my long leather coat. I was still cold. And I was pretty sure every mosquito in the colony had found me.

I tossed and turned, my frustration keeping me awake almost as much as the harsh conditions did. I found myself again thinking of my Osfro town house. This time, I was obsessed with memories of my bed. A mattress big enough for five people. Silk sheets scented with lavender. As many blankets as you needed on a cold night.

I didn’t realize right away that I was crying. When I did, I quickly got up before any of the children sleeping near me woke and noticed. Wrapping the thin blanket around me, I hurried away from the wagon, slipping through groups of other sleeping settlers. A few still sat by fires, dicing and telling stories, but they paid little attention to me. I moved as far to the camp’s edge as I dared, enough to give me privacy but not venture into the wild unknown.

There, I sat down miserably and buried my face in my hands, trying to keep my sobs as quiet as possible. I couldn’t stand the thought of my weakness getting back to Warren. I had this horrible image of him looking down at me with a too-kind expression, saying sympathetically: “You could have been my wife. You could have traveled in the padded carriage and slept in my tent.” I’d seen one of his men haul a mattress into it earlier.

A hand touched my shoulder, and I jumped to my feet. Cedric stood there, shadows playing over his startled face. He’d been busy with his own chores, and I hadn’t seen him all evening. “It is you. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I furiously wiped at my face. “What are you doing here?”

“I went over to the Marshall wagon hoping to steal you for a quick word. When you weren’t there, I started searching around.” He reached for my face, but I pulled back. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Adelaide, I’m serious. What’s wrong?”

I threw up my hands. “Pick something, Cedric! Using my skirt as a napkin at dinner tonight. No bathrooms. I keep swallowing gnats. And the smell! I get that bathing will be limited on this trip, but didn’t any of them do it before we left? It’s only been one day.”

“You knew this wouldn’t be easy,” he said quietly. “Do you regret it? Do you regret . . .”

“Us?” I finished. “No. Not for an instant. And that leads to the worst part of all: hating myself for feeling this way. I hate listening to myself whine. I hate that I’m too weak to put our love above these conditions.”

“No one said you had to love it out here.”

“You do. I saw your face once we were truly clear of the Cape Triumph settlements. This is some kind of spiritual experience for you.”

He held up his hands. From the glow of scattered fires, I could see dirt and cuts. His face was dirty too. “This isn’t that spiritual. Neither is the guy who keeps saying my face is too pretty and he wants to break my nose. And you wouldn’t believe how sore I am after being on that horse all day.”

“Oh, I can believe it. But you aren’t letting it get to you. You’re not that weak.”

He drew me to him, and this time, I didn’t resist. “You aren’t weak. But for the first time in your life you aren’t good at everything. The world rotated around you in Osfro and told you that you could do no wrong. At Blue Spring, despite some mishaps, you were still the best in all your studies. And in Cape Triumph, you were the star of the Glittering Court. Out here, you’re . . .”

“Miserable? Useless?”

“Adjusting. This is the first day, and it’s a shock. You’ll get used to it as the trip goes on, and once you’re in Hadisen with a roof over you, you’ll think you’ve gone back to an Osfridian palace.”

I let those words sink in. “Speaking of roofs, what happens if it rains out here?”

“One worry at a time.”

He smiled in that bewitching way he had, that way that said he could take care of everything. But could he this time? “I’m tired, Cedric. So, so tired. It was a long day, but I can’t sleep. The ground’s horrible. And I’m cold. How can it be this cold? It’s spring.”

He took my hand and pulled me down. “I can’t do anything about the ground, but I can help with the cold.”

He had a thin blanket of his own, and he spread both of ours on the ground. Lying down, he urged me to do the same, and we snuggled together, each of us trying to wrap the other in our respective coats. The ground was still bumpy, but with his body against mine and the sound of his heartbeat by my ear, I didn’t mind as much.

“We can’t stay like this,” I said. “We’ll get in trouble if we’re caught.”

“We’ll go back before dawn.”

“How will we know?”

“I’ll know.”

I felt warmth settle around me and the first glimmers of drowsiness seeping in. “I will do anything for us,” I said through a yawn. “I hope you know that.”

“I’ve never doubted it.” He kissed the top of my head.

“You can give me a better kiss than that if you want.”

“I do want to, but you need to sleep. Maybe tomorrow night, when you’re better rested.”

I fought another yawn. “Some things don’t change. You’re so full of yourself, Cedric Thorn. Certain I’ll just sleep next to you again tomorrow. We’re not married yet. I haven’t taken any vows to lie with you under the moon.”

He kissed the top of my head again. I melted into the security of his body and felt true happiness burn through me. After several minutes, I asked, “Cedric?”

His breathing had grown steady, and I wondered if he was asleep. Then: “Yes?”

“You smell good. You’re the only thing that smells good out here. Is that from putting on the vetiver this morning, or did you bring it with you?”

“I brought it with me.”

I moved closer to him. “Thank Uros.”

As promised, Cedric woke up just before sunrise so that we could each go back to our respective places before we were missed. My body still ached, but waking up next to Cedric made me not notice the pain as much.

“Is that some Alanzan thing?” I whispered before we parted. “Are you synced with the sun?”

“It’s something I’ve done since childhood. I’ve always been a restless sleeper.” He squinted over at the eastern sky and raised a hand in salute. “But maybe it’s some gift I didn’t even know I had, right from Alanziel herself.” Seeing the golden dawn play over Cedric’s features and cast a fiery hue to his hair, I could very well believe he was favored by the patron angel of passionate love.

As I returned to the Marshall wagon, I felt better than I had the previous night. Both venting and getting rest had given me new perspective. Cedric had been right. There was no question these were harsh conditions. Anyone would have difficulty. But it was truly the most out of my depth I’d ever felt in my life—which was saying something, after assuming someone else’s identity. I had to be patient with myself as I figured this out.

And I did, in the days to come. I still didn’t like the food or sleeping on the ground. But at least it didn’t rain. Cedric and I continued spending our nights together at the camp’s edge, and as the caravan fell into a routine, he spent more time with me in the day. Having such a large party, we moved pretty slowly. He and I could walk together, leading the horse, and easily keep pace with the others. The rough terrain and increasing elevation made it tiring, but I gradually toughened up.

“Grant Elliott was right about the sun,” I told Cedric one day. It was a few days into our trip. We were on a lunch break, sitting off by ourselves in the shade.

“What did he say?”

“That it was brutal.” I held up my hands for examination. “Look how tan these are already. I can’t even imagine how my face must look.”

“Beautiful, as always,” said Cedric. He tore apart a piece of jerky and handed half to me.

“You didn’t even look.”

“I don’t have to.” But he did glance up and study my face. “I think you’re getting a few freckles. They’re cute.”

“Don’t tell Tamsin that—she’s always trying to hide hers. And my grandmother would faint if she could see me.” I’d started off flippant but felt my heart sink as I thought of Grandmama. “You know, when I heard she was looking for me, I first worried because of the obvious trouble I could get in. But what really bothers me about it now is knowing that she’s still searching. She doesn’t know what happened to me but still wants me. She hasn’t given up.”

“Of course she hasn’t. It isn’t in the Witmore blood. Er, I mean Bailey blood. At least I assume it isn’t in the Bailey blood to give up.”

I thought about my former maid. “Well, Ada kind of gave up . . . or did she? If she’s at the dairy farm she wanted, I suppose it all worked out for her.”

Cedric put his arm around my shoulder, letting me lean against him. “Once we’re married and everything is stable, you can send word back to your grandmother. Let her know you’re all right.”

Afternoon sunlight shone down on us through the branches of the great maple behind our backs. If I weren’t feeling so melancholy about Grandmama, I could have thought of it as an idyllic setting. “I just hope she can forgive me for—”

“There you two are,” snapped a harsh voice. We both looked up to see Elias Carter, Warren’s chief assistant in Hadisen, striding toward us. “The party’s getting packed up and nearly ready to move again. I should’ve known I’d find you two off here doing immoral things.”

“Eating lunch?” I asked.

Elias fixed me with a beady glare. He’d made it clear many times on this trip that he disapproved of us. “Don’t be impertinent with me, Miss Bailey. How the governor ever found it in his magnanimous heart to forgive you and offer you this chance is beyond me. I wouldn’t have. But then, he is a great man. I am not.”

“That’s certainly true,” said Cedric, deadpan.

Elias’s brow furrowed, as he seemed to realize he’d inadvertently insulted himself. Before he could respond, we heard a scream coming from the direction of the main camp. Without a backward glance at us, Elias ran off toward it. We followed close behind.

The first thing I saw was that the party hadn’t been “nearly ready to move again,” as Elias had told us. There were signs all around that others had been in the middle of their lunches too. But no one was eating now. Everyone was on their feet. Some people, particularly those with children, were rushing toward the back of the camp with their little ones. Others—mostly men—were stalking toward the front. Until now, I hadn’t realized how many weapons were in this caravan. Guns and knives abounded.

“What’s going on?” I asked one woman.

“Icori,” she said. “Best hide with us.”

Cedric and I looked at each other in disbelief. “Icori haven’t been in Denham in nearly two years,” he said. He put out an arm to stop me when I started to move forward. “You don’t have to hide, but we probably shouldn’t go bursting into the middle of this until we know what’s going on.”

“I just want to see.”

Cedric reluctantly moved through the crowd with me. He wasn’t the type to try to tell me what I could or couldn’t do. But I had a feeling that if there was any sign of danger, he’d toss me over his shoulder and carry me away kicking and screaming.

We stopped near the edge of a group of would-be prospectors, all with guns drawn. It gave us a clear vantage down the dusty trail through the woods. There, Warren and several other armed men stood in front of two men on horseback who met every description of the Icori I’d ever read or heard. Well, except for the part about them being bloodthirsty demons.

Dress and styling aside, these two looked pretty human to me. One was an older man, late fifties perhaps, with a bushy red beard and a tunic of green plaid. He was the size of a bull, and despite his age, something told me he could hold his own against a younger man in a fight. Probably a dozen younger men. The rider beside him didn’t look much older than Cedric. His bare, muscled chest was painted with designs of blue woad. A tartan in that same green plaid was draped over one shoulder and held with a copper pin. White-blond hair hanging loosely to his shoulders contrasted with his skin. He was the one Warren seemed focused on while speaking.

“And I told you, you have no business here. Icori are not welcome on Denham lands—or any civilized Osfridian lands. Go back to the territories you were ceded.”

“I would gladly do that,” the blond man replied, “if your people would stop trespassing onto our lands.” There were two notable things about the way he spoke. One was that he was remarkably calm, given all the guns pointed at him. Second, his Osfridian was nearly perfect.

“No one wants your lands,” said Warren, which seemed slightly inaccurate given all that Osfrid and other countries across the sea had taken. “If anything, I’ve heard rumors of your people harassing our lands up north. Should that be true, you’ll have real visitors in your lands in the form of our soldiers. A little more serious than these delusions you’re prattling on about.”

“The burned villages I’ve seen aren’t delusions. We demand answers.”

Warren scoffed. “Forgive me if I don’t really feel the two of you can make demands. There’s a lot more of us than there are of you.”

“Shoot ’em!” someone called from the crowd. “Shoot the savages!”

The Icori man remained unfazed and never looked away from Warren. “I’d hoped we wouldn’t need shows of force to open a dialogue on protecting innocents. I’d think that’s what civilized men do.”

“Civilized,” sneered Elias. “Like you’re ones to talk.”

“This civilized man is going to give you the chance to leave with your lives.” Warren’s words suggested generosity, but his tone was pure ice. “Not far ahead is a northward trail that cuts through the corner of Denham and leads over to the western territories. I’m sure you know it. I’m sure it’s what you took to get here. Turn around right now and go back. If you move fast enough, you should be out of Denham by sunset. I’m going to leave a group of men to guard that trail’s intersection and scout it out in the morning. If there’s any sign that you are still in our lands, you will die.”

“Shoot ’em anyway!” someone yelled.

The Icori murmured something to his companion. The bearded man scowled and answered back in their own language. The blond man turned back to Warren. “We will take our conversation elsewhere. Thank you for your time.”

The Icori turned around on their horses, and I held my breath as several men held up their guns and aimed at the Icoris’ backs. Warren noticed this too and held up a hand of warding. The Icori horses quickly moved from a walk to a gallop and were soon out of range.

The Icori encounter was all anyone could talk about for the rest of the day. Opinions were understandably mixed. Plenty were in the “shoot ’em” camp. Others thought Warren’s act of compassion only showed what a noble spirit he had.

“It was all a bluff,” an older man told Cedric and me at dinner that night. He paused to turn his head and spit. “He had no other choice. If he’d killed him, there’s always the chance of triggering another war. No one knows how touchy the Icori are these days. And that whole nonsense about men guarding the trail is . . . well, nonsense. Icori don’t need trails. If they want to slip away and melt into the woods, they can.”

I looked across the heads of the other settlers, off to where Warren sat on the opposite side of camp. He had a bigger group of admirers than usual, all lauding him on his masterful act of diplomacy. I’d thought it was well done myself until I heard our companion’s commentary.

“The Icori were much more composed than I expected,” I remarked. “I’d be a lot more hostile if I’d been forced from my land.”

“Twice,” the old man reminded us. “Don’t forget the heroes who threw them out of Osfrid in the first place. Good King Wilfrid. Suttingham. Bentley. Rothford.”

I tried not to wince at hearing my ancestor’s name. The settlement of Osfrid had taken place so long ago that it was easy sometimes to forget that the savages Rupert had fought there were the ancestors of those who’d fled across the sea and made new lives for themselves in these lands. Or tried to, at least.

“This place is so vast,” I told Cedric later. “Adoria’s a hundred times the size of Osfrid. Shouldn’t there be enough room for all of us this time?”

He gazed around us. Nightfall was upon us, but we could still make out the enormous trees as they reached up to the stars. “Greedy men never have enough room. I don’t know what’ll happen to the Icori—or this land. Osfrid was once this wild too, and now it’s clear-cut and parceled.” He looked back down and slipped his arm around me. I caught the scent of his vetiver, reassuring me not all civilization was lost. “One thing I do know is that they’ve increased nighttime watches. You and I are going to have to go separate ways tonight.”

“Are you sure?” But even as I spoke, I knew he was right. I could already see patrols assembling. “I won’t sleep nearly as well.”

“I’ll actually sleep better,” he muttered.

“You don’t like sleeping by me?”

“I like sleeping by you too much. I spend half the night thinking about—”

“Hey,” I warned. “There are children nearby.”

Cedric gave me a look of mock chastisement. “What I was going to say is that I spend half the night thinking about when we’re getting married. The places your mind goes. Someone should have sent you to finishing school.”

“Technically, you sent me to finishing school. So you’ve got no one to blame if you want me to behave differently.”

He drew me in for a kiss. “Now why would I ever want that?”

So there was no more shared sleep between us for the remainder of the trip. I missed it—achingly so—but I kept reminding myself this was all just another step along the path to our future. We would endure.

“You and your young man didn’t have a fight, did you?” Mistress Marshall asked me one day. We were both riding in the wagon, and I was wondering if I should be concerned that I no longer noticed the rattling.

“Why do you think that?”

She gave me a knowing look. “Just noticed you’ve been sleeping by our wagon again these last few days.”

I felt a flush sweep over me. “Mistress Marshall—it’s not—it’s not anything like that. Nothing happened. We were just sleeping together. I mean, like, actually sleeping. Then we decided it’d be best to stop after the watches increased.”

“Very sensible of you,” she said. I couldn’t tell if she really believed me.

“I mean it,” I insisted. “We’ve behaved—that is, well, exactly as we should. And we’ll keep doing that.”

Her smile was kind, despite a cracked tooth. “Perhaps. But you’re very young. And I know how hot young blood can run. While you’re under my roof, I’ll make sure you’re respectable and keeping with the virtues dictated by Uros. But when you’re not under my roof . . .”

I couldn’t meet her eyes. “Mistress Marshall, we intend to behave with the utmost decorum until we’re married.”

“Intentions and actions rarely line up. And in the event your intentions go awry, I don’t want you to get in trouble.” She handed me a small burlap bag with a spicy smell. “These are cinnamon thorn leaves. You know what these are for?”

I gulped and, impossibly, felt my blush heat up even more. “Yes, ma’am. Our teachers at Blue Spring Manor—back in Osfrid—told us.”

“Well, that’s good,” she said. “Saves us both from an embarrassing conversation.”

I wasn’t so sure about that. As it was, I really didn’t think my mortification could get any worse at that moment. I tried to hand the bag back to her.

“Thank you, but I really don’t think I’ll need these.”

She refused the bag. “I’ve got plenty. They’ve kept me at six kids. If they keep you from having one before you’re ready, it’ll be well worth it.”

I might have tried handing it back to her again, but then I heard a shout from farther up in the caravan. “The eastern tributary! We’re at the eastern tributary!”

Cheers sounded, and I looked back to Mistress Marshall. “What does that mean?”

“It means, my dear, that we’re about to cross into Hadisen.”