Two small breaths, Damon. He reminded himself while he rose as Fen opened the door, and his charming smile slipped into place with practiced ease. The street beyond was a mosaic of wide eyes and whispered names.
“Prince Damon.”
“My saints, it’s really him.”
He stepped down as if the cobbles were made for his boots. Citizens pressed close but not too close, held back by the line of guards and the weight of what he represented. The mayor hurried forward, cheeks pink with importance, and launched into pleasantries like a man trying to make sure his town sounded respectable in the ears of a Lyon.
Damon listened, nodded at the right moments, spoke softly, said all the correct words. The kind ones. The reassuring ones. The ones that made fear turn into pride, and pride into cooperation.
“And your party is just this way, Your Highness, Rush has been such a great resident all these years. It was only just recently I knew of his status! I would have made every effort to treat him and his sister with the greatest care if we had known sooner.” the mayor finished, gesturing them toward the larger town hall where chests and luggage were already being wrestled into order.
Damon walked beside him up the steps, Fen trailing at his shoulder. Town guards pulled open the doors, and warm lamplight spilled out, catching on polished wood and the edges of cloaks. Damon looked back to see Jayce was arranging things with the town guards. Zen and Kurt assisting him. Darius was then by Fenway's side as they went back to following the Mayor.
Five figures stood near the far end, half in shadow.
Two were unmistakably their guards. And guards he knew well. One of them, Tessa, held herself like a knife kept sheathed only by courtesy. Beside her, his brother, he could pick him out even if he was in full guard uniform, mask and helm on.
Then there was the third.
Smaller. Cloaked. Hood drawn up enough that Damon couldn’t see her face properly, only the shape of her as she leaned in to murmur something to Tessa and Kylar. Tessa’s shoulders lifted with a soundless laugh. Kylar tilted his head closer to hear, an unconscious motion, intimate in a way Damon didn’t like noticing.
And then Kylar shifted, just a fraction, and the lamplight caught him.
Royal guard uniform.
No mask.
No mask.
Damon’s smile held, because a prince did not react like a man who’d just spotted a loose thread in an important tapestry. But inside, something ticked. Kylar, unmasked, in uniform, in Brindlecross, standing that close to the cloaked girl as if he belonged there. He was in guard uniform though and not in finery. So maybe he hadn’t shared all his mysterious secrets with her. Or maybe he had, and Damon was simply late to the story, arriving with polished boots and an escort charter while the real plot had already been written in ink and moonlight. He was letting his mind get away from him again as he just noted he was standing as a guard, not a suitor.
The taller figure stepped forward, cloak shifting, and Damon’s attention snapped to him at once.
Rush. The Tearian Crown Prince.
Damon’s bow was smooth and deep, charm and respect braided together. “Prince Rush.”
Rush returned it with the same controlled precision. “Prince Damon. Thank you for the escort. Shall we get moving?”
Damon appreciated that. Less conversation in crowded halls, more wheels on the road. “Of course,” he said lightly. “We wouldn’t want to keep anyone waiting.”
Rush’s hand lifted in a small gesture toward the shadow behind him. “My Draggoon,” he said. “Shade. He’ll be with me going forward.”
Shade didn’t offer a flourish, only a stillness that made Damon’s instincts itch. A man who looked like he’d been built from alleys and oaths.
Damon inclined his head. “Understood.” Damon then gestured to Fenway. "Fen here is my shadow and this fine gentleman" He indicated Darius. " Is Darius, your sister's shadow. Highly recommended from Crown Prince Ryder and Captain Vale." Rush nodded to Darius who inclined his head back. Rush gestured toward the trio. "Kairi" Rush called over to them. She straightened and looked to them. Damon turned back toward Kairi before he could overthink it. The mayor was watching. The guards were watching. The town was watching. Damon had learned young how to perform softness without losing authority. And he wanted to leave a story that would spread like wildfire in the outer villages.
He stepped to her, bowed deep, and took her hand. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles, gentle, court-perfect.
“My Lady Kairi,” he said.
For a heartbeat, the room held its breath.
Kairi went very still, then her fingers tightened slightly around his, like she was anchoring herself. She lifted her head just enough that the hood shifted, and lamplight slid over the line of her cheek, the edge of her mouth, the faint, deliberate clipping of her ears that no hood could truly hide from anyone who knew what to look for.
Her eyes met his. Not frightened. Not dazzled. Just… steady. As if she’d lived through too much to be undone by titles.
“Prince Damon,” she replied, voice calm, clear, and quieter than a crowd expected from a princess. “Thank you for coming.”
Damon’s smile softened, genuine despite himself. She didn’t sound like someone who’d been rehearsed into obedience. She sounded like someone who’d chosen her own spine. Behind her, Kylar’s posture did not change. But Damon saw it anyway, the way Kylar’s attention sharpened, the way he positioned himself without moving, the subtle line of protection that formed as naturally as breathing.
Interesting, Damon thought, keeping his expression pleasant. Very interesting.
Damon released her hand with the proper, practiced care and straightened as if the entire room belonged to him and he was simply being kind enough to share it.
His gaze slid past Kairi and landed on the unmasked guard beside her.
Damon looked Kylar up and down like he was inspecting a blade before purchase. Then, with a lazy little motion, he brushed imaginary dust off Kylar’s uniform sleeve.
“Kylar,” he said, bright as a bell. “…No mask?”
Kylar didn’t so much as blink. Guard posture. Guard voice. Guard distance. “No mask, Your Highness.”
Damon’s grin sharpened, entertained. “Huh. Your Highness I see."
He turned back to Kairi and offered his arm with a flourish that managed to be courtly without becoming ridiculous. “Shall we get you home?”
Kairi’s eyes flicked to his arm, then to his face, amused by the simplicity of it. She took his arm lightly. Not clinging. Not resisting. Just… choosing it. Damon was secretly pleased as he gestured to Darius. "This is Darius, he will be your shadow going forward. He makes a great wall and is fun to talk to."
Darius simply inclined his head. "Princess"
Kairi looked him over and a small smile tugged to be freed. "Hello Darius, I have heard a great deal about you. Please keep me safe"
Darius nodded slowly and glanced over to Tessa and Kylar who both pointedly didn't look at him. "I hope all good things Princess."
"Kairi" She corrected him.
"Kairi" He echoed.
She smiled at him and looked to Damon then. "Lead the way Prince Damon."
As they started toward the waiting carriages, Damon leaned his head toward her as if they were already old companions. “Would you prefer horseback or carriage for the journey?” he asked. “We could switch by day if you like. Keep the body from mutinying.”
Kairi blinked, genuinely surprised he’d thought to ask. Then her mouth curved. “Carriage today,” she decided. “Let my legs forgive me first.”
Damon laughed softly. “A wise princess.”
They neared the steps, the guards shifting to make space, the mayor hovering with the look of a man trying to be useful without being in the way. Kairi’s hand was still on Damon’s arm… until her eyes caught something over his shoulder.
Mena and Raelin.
Kairi’s entire posture changed, like a string in her chest snapped into music.
She pulled away from Damon so quickly he had half a heartbeat of confusion before he recovered. He watched as she practically flew the last few steps and wrapped both women into a fierce hug, the kind that said this was not a polite farewell, this was an anchor being grabbed before the tide pulled.
Raelin made a sound like she was trying to complain and failing. Mena’s arms went around Kairi like she’d been holding her breath all day.
Damon stood back, pleased despite himself. He liked surprises. He liked when people were real.
Kylar stepped to Damon’s side, quiet as a shadow.
“…We need to ask Ryder,” Kylar murmured, “about having those two be her ladies in waiting.”
Damon’s brows rose. He leaned in, voice dropped to something meant only for Kylar’s ear. “Okay,” he whispered. “We need to talk later.”
Kylar’s mouth twitched. A small smile. The kind Damon didn’t like, because it sounded like the punchline had already happened and he’d missed it.
“Yes,” Kylar said simply. “We do.”
Damon’s eyes narrowed a fraction, still smiling for the crowd. “She knows?” he asked, very quietly.
Kylar paused, weighing the shape of the truth like it was a weapon he didn’t want to hand over wrong. “She knew before,” he said at last.
Damon turned his head just enough to look at him, disbelief and amusement warring in his expression. “They spoiled your surprise,” he murmured. “How unkind.”
Kylar didn’t rise to it. “She figured it out" He corrected.
That made Damon’s grin widen again, but there was calculation in it now too. Darius and Fen both exchanged a small look as Tessa came up beside them looked to both of them and signed simply.
In front of them, Kairi finally pulled back from Mena and Raelin, cheeks flushed, eyes bright, and made a motion like she wanted to drag both of them into the carriage by force of will alone. Raelin looked ready to follow her anywhere. Mena looked like she’d follow her into fire if asked properly.
Damon stepped forward again, reclaiming the role of escort with a smoothness that hid how much he’d just learned in three sentences.
“My lady,” he said gently, offering his arm once more. “Carriage, then.”
Kairi looked over and nodded. " Just a couple more minutes and I'll be ready."
Mena’s hug loosened first, not because she wanted it to, but because her eyes had snagged on the shape of the world shifting.
She looked past Kairi’s shoulder toward the steps, toward the guards. Toward Kylar.
He stood in full royal guard uniform now, no mask, posture carved into something official. Like he’d put his familiar face behind a uniform the way you sheath a blade.
Mena’s brows knit. She leaned in close to Kairi, voice low enough it wouldn’t carry. “Why?” she whispered. “He said he wouldn’t be… Kylar today.”
Kairi’s mouth curved, small and knowing. “He thinks it’s safer,” she murmured back. Then, softer still, like she was sharing a secret she couldn’t keep to herself: “But he did say he’d be a prince today, didn’t he?” That was when the wicked grin showed itself, quick as a spark. Mena’s lips parted, caught between scandal and delight. Raelin, who had no patience for half-stories, blinked hard. “What do you mean, he said he’d be a prince today?”
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Kairi didn’t answer her directly. She turned. And she looked straight at Kylar like the entire street was suddenly their dream meadow and she had decided to rewrite the rules with a smile.
“Prince Dato,” she said, clear as a bell. “Will you be riding horseback or carriage today?”
Kylar actually startled, just slightly. It was in his eyes more than his body. The title hit him like a hand to the chest: public, real, and hers.
He recovered fast, because he always did. “Horseback,” he answered, voice steady. Darius couldn't help it. He laughed, but he smothered it quickly.
Kairi nodded as if she’d expected nothing else. Then she glanced at Damon, bright-eyed with the audacity of it. “Carriage today. Horseback tomorrow then. You two can share.”
Damon laughed, warm and genuinely entertained, and for a heartbeat the crowd noise softened around them like the world approved of the joke. “As you command,” he said. The crowd noise got louder now. The guard they knew was Prince Dato.
Kairi had a smug grin as she stepped past Kylar and up into the carriage with Damon's help. Kylar watched the crowd as their eyes changed with his title. The awe and reverence. Some small talk about I danced with a Prince! Cruel Kairi.
He was about to step away to mount up on Onyx when the mayor bustled up again, cheeks red from excitement and importance.
“Your Highnesses,” the man said, then stared straight at Kylar like he’d found a second sun. “Did I hear right? You are Prince Dato?”
Kylar’s mind flicked through options. Denial would become a spectacle. Truth would become a spectacle. He looked at the crowd again. It was already a spectacle.
He nodded. “I came here as a guard first,” he said evenly. “So please don’t worry about treating me a certain way."
The mayor looked positively delighted, as if worry was an exotic concept he’d only heard about in stories. “Oh, splendid. Splendid! Then… did you enjoy the festival?” He leaned in, eyes bright. “You were dancing with Willow, I mean the Princess last night. You both looked very happy. Did you enjoy the food? The drink?”
Damon’s head snapped toward the mayor. His hand lifted, palm out. “Wait. You had a festival?”
The mayor nearly vibrated. “Yes! We celebrated!” He beamed, then his eyes widened further, somehow. “It was a festival for Prince Dato’s Name Day! The outer villages always celebrate earlier, you see, so folks have time to travel to the capital for the main festivities.” He turned back to Kylar with the fervor of a man presenting what he believed was a wonderous gift. “My prince, was the festival to your liking? Who knew you would actually be here for your own festival!”
Kylar’s shoulders went a degree stiffer. He did not like being pointed at. He did not like being announced. He did not like being… celebrated. Not like this,
Kairi, however, liked it immensely. She was already laughing, soft and delighted, the sound slipping out before she could stop it. Then she leaned toward Damon, close enough that her breath warmed the shell of his ear, and whispered like she was sharing scandal in a pew.
“He didn’t cheat,” she murmured. “He was my guard and I forced him to go. If that is what that face you're making is about”
Damon’s spine did a fascinating thing: it stayed princely straight while everything inside him reacted like a man being ambushed with perfume and sunlight. He turned his head just enough that their faces were almost touching, smile easy, voice smooth as if he hadn’t been caught off-balance.
“Is that so, Princess?” he murmured.
Kairi didn’t flinch away from the closeness. If anything, she held it like a dare, eyes bright with wicked amusement. “It is,” she said, just as soft. “He went as Kylar. Not as Dato.”
Damon’s grin sharpened. He leaned in a fraction more until their noses were nearly brushing. Kairi still didn’t retreat. Damon had been surprised by her all day. This was simply the latest installment. Then, from inside the carriage, Rush’s voice drifted out like a blade sliding free.
“If you get any closer to her face, I will melt it off.”
Damon and Kairi pulled apart immediately, both of them moving with the same innocent speed of children caught near an open cookie tin.
Kylar’s eyes slid toward the carriage, then back to the mayor, expression locked into polite guard neutrality. But his chest had an ugly twist in it.
Damon cleared his throat, reclaiming his courtly composure with practiced ease. “A charming festival,” he said, as if he’d been discussing lantern placement instead of risking dragonfire. “We’re grateful for the town’s hospitality for celebrating my little brother.”
The mayor looked thrilled enough to explode into confetti. Kairi bit her lip to hold back another laugh. And Rush, from within the carriage, muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “Saints preserve me,” as if the escort had barely begun and he already regretted agreeing to any of it.
Shade lounged across the back edge of the carriage like he owned the wood and the air above it. He dug a pebble out of the road with the tip of his boot, flicked it once, twice, then snapped his fingers and sent it arcing.
Tick.
The stone bounced off Kylar’s shoulder. Kylar didn’t so much as flinch. He lifted his eyes to Shade. The draggoon simply gestured for him to come over.
Kairi watched him go with a soft, helpless fondness, then pulled herself up the carriage steps and slid inside. The air smelled like polished wood, travel leather, and whatever perfume Damon had decided was “subtle.” She settled beside Rush.
He looked at her sideways and murmured, “Behave.” She scrunched her nose. “I was curious if he would back down like his brother.”
That earned her a slow lift of Rush’s brow. “What.” Rush exhaled through his nose, long-suffering. "He didn't back down last night." He muttered. He pointedly looked at the chain around her neck. Her hand went up to it and then she glared. "Spying?"
He sat back against the bench and nodded once. "You've only know him for a week or so." He closed his eyes and wondered if she would correct him. She didn't.
Kairi folded her arms tighter. “I’m still upset with you. And...I'm considering my options of Princes for potential suitors.”
He patted her knee once. A peace offering, small and careful, like he had always done their entire lives. "So you decided on who already?"
Kairi was quiet. " I haven't given an answer quiet yet...I told him I would hold onto it for the time"
Rush wondered what their game was, their plan to do this. He had talked to Kylar about it over the past couple days. Kylar just kept reassuring they thought it through. And he thought half relucent, I let him give her his ring without a fight.
The carriage steps creaked again. Jayce hopped up like he’d done it a thousand times, grin already in place, then the grin thinned when he took in the air between them.
“Everything okay?” he asked, looking from Rush to Kairi.
Rush forced something close to a smile. “Sibling disagreement,” he said lightly. “It’s fine.” Kairi very pointedly stared at the opposite wall as if it had done nothing wrong today and deserved her loyalty. Jayce’s gaze held on her a beat, then he softened his voice. “Good to see you, Kairi.”
She finally looked at him, the edge in her expression easing. “It’s good to see you too. Will you ride with us?” She scooted, making room, and patted the seat beside her. “Here.”
Jayce chuckled and sat, then glanced at Rush with a nod.
“I see murder wasn’t chosen,” Jayce said dryly, leaning back. “Does that mean the other option is still on the table?”
Rush rolled his eyes. “For now.”
Kairi snapped her head toward them. “Murder for what?” Her voice sharpened. “More people I’m not supposed to know about?”
Jayce blinked, genuinely thrown. “No. Gods, no. It’s… it was about Ky.” He tipped his head as if trying to see around her anger to the softer truth underneath. “Just a joke.”
Kairi’s jaw worked once. Then guilt slid in, quick and quiet. She looked away toward the window, watching the blurred motion outside like it could swallow her temper if she stared hard enough.
Jayce’s eyes flicked to Rush. A question he didn’t ask. Rush didn’t answer it. Not with words. He raised a hand and signed to Jayce's surprise.
Jayce grinned "How was your week with Ky Kairi?"
She didn't look away from the window as she answered. " It was nice. He is very handy, good at dancing too."
Outside, as if their talking had summoned him, Kylar reappeared at the carriage door, breath barely touched by exertion. He looked up, and the smile he gave Kairi was small, warm, and very much his.
“I have talked to Mena and Raelin's parents, since everyone knows I'm a Prince now, thank you." He made a sour face and she just laughed at it. Then he continued. "We will get the paperwork done when we get into Carlbrin, I'll force Ryder to sign and stamp it and then we can send riders out to bring them in."
The smile returned to Kairi’s face like it had been waiting behind her ribs for permission. She nodded.
Kylar’s gaze slid to Jayce. “Jayce.”
“Ky.” Jayce’s grin came back, easier. “I’ll be out there in a moment. We’ll get everyone rounded up.” Then, to Kairi, brighter: “You want to meet Darius? He will be your guard.”
Her eyes lit. “Please.”
Jayce nodded and climbed back out, tugging Kylar by the sleeve as if he had a right to steal princes off doorways. Kylar let himself be pulled, but not before he gave Kairi a quick, almost ridiculous little salute. Kairi grinned like she’d just been handed a present, and she did in a way.
A moment later, Damon climbed in with a practiced ease that made the carriage feel suddenly more crowded with charm. He sat near Kairi, posture perfect, hair falling like it had been bribed into obedience. He looked at her like a man stepping onto a stage he’d already decided to own.
Not long after, Darius stepped in and shut the door behind him. The way he moved was all quiet competence, like the air itself knew to make room. He chose the seat nearer Rush, then angled his body so he could see both Rush and Kairi without looking like he was staring.
He nodded to Rush first. Respect, clean and direct. Then his attention shifted to Kairi.
“I’m Darius Maevin,” he said. “I’ve been assigned as your personal guard, if you’ll have me.”
Kairi’s smile softened. “Nice to meet you, Darius.” Then, because she couldn’t help herself, she added, “You’re applying to be my Ash Guard, in case no one thought to tell you.”
Darius paused half a beat, then nodded slowly, as if filing it into a mental ledger labeled things I will research immediately so I don’t die ignorantly.
“I’ll need to learn what that entails,” he said.
Rush’s mouth quirked. “At least you didn’t back away at the title.”
A knock sounded at the carriage window. Darius leaned over and slid it open.
Jayce was there outside, one hand braced on the frame. “We’re heading out,” he said.
Then Jayce’s gaze caught on Rush’s, and the humor left his face just enough to make the words land heavier than they should have.
“We need to talk later.”
Rush nodded once. Simple. Final. Jayce moved on. Darius shut the window again, sealing them back into the soft sway of waiting. For a moment, the carriage fell quiet except for distant voices and the shift of harness outside.
Damon turned his attention fully to Kairi, a slow grin curling at the corner of his mouth. Not playful exactly, but bright with intent. Damon didn’t pounce on the opening like a man trying to win something. He treated it like a dance, the kind where you offer your hand first and see if the other person actually wants to step onto the floor. Kairi took that step.
“All right,” he said, leaning back as the carriage rocked into motion. “We’ll trade. One question each. No interrogations. That’s Darius’s job now, apparently.”
Darius didn’t even pretend offense. “Correct.”
Kairi’s lips twitched. “Fine. One question.” She tipped her head, studying Damon like she was deciding whether to catalogue him under problem or unexpectedly useful. “What did you do for fun before… all of this?” She gestured vaguely, meaning crowns and councils and war.
Damon’s smile turned easy. “The honest answer or the polite answer?”
“The honest one,” Kairi said at the same time Rush muttered, “Saints.”
Damon looked delighted by the chorus. “Cards,” he confessed. “Dice. Anything that lets a man pretend his fate can be negotiated with a good grin and a bad decision.” He angled the question back to her. “And you, Princess? What did you do for fun before you became… everyone’s emergency?”
Kairi snorted. “I read. I climbed places I shouldn’t. I made soaps that smelled like trouble.” Her fingers brushed absently at the chain under her dress, the ring hidden there, warm as a secret. “And I collected herbs like they were treasure.”
Darius cleared his throat mildly. “Climbed where.”
Kairi blinked at him, then answered as if it was perfectly normal. “The old watchtower outside the east wall. Oh! and the cliffs outside Mylain. We used to go cliff diving. You remember Rush?”
Darius’s expression didn’t change. Only his eyes did, sharpening with the quiet horror of a man picturing a thousand ways to die on loose stone. “Noted.”
Rush smiled for her. "It was a good time. Krez liked it more than anyone else."
Damon laughed under his breath. “You’re going to give him gray hair.”
“I already have,” Kairi said, too pleased with herself.
They traded questions like that for miles.
Favorite foods. Damon admitted to a weakness for honey cakes and anything fried at a street stall. Kairi confessed she’d rather have bread still warm from the oven than any fancy palace confection, and that she missed the sea like they were a person. Damon asked where she wanted to go first once she reached Carlbrin, assuming she’d be dazzled by the palace.
Kairi surprised him. “The library,” she said without hesitation. “And the lake. I’ve heard about the lake.”
Damon’s brows lifted. “Ryder’s lake?” he asked, as if the city’s landmark belonged to his brother by right of obsession.
Kairi smiled faintly. “That one. He talked about it a couple times when he visited."
Damon grinned. " Of course he did. Maybe we can take a boat out and gaze at the stars once night."
Her eyes widened. "I would like that a lot."
Darius slipped in practical follow-ups between their softer questions, each one shaped like a shield.
“Do you get motion sick in carriages?”
“No.”
“Do you prefer a guard at the window or the door?”
“Door.”
“If you feel overwhelmed, do you want us to remove you or anchor you?”
Kairi paused at that, genuinely thinking. “Anchor,” she said quietly. “Unless I say otherwise.”
Darius nodded once, and the nod looked like relief.
Rush listened to all of it. He watched Damon carefully, the way a man watched a blade with a beautiful hilt. Damon was smooth, yes. Charm poured off him. He complimented Kairi’s laugh. The way the lanternlight had caught her hair. The fact she’d faced down a town’s worth of trouble and still offered kindness with both hands.
Every compliment was polite. None of them were crude. It still made Rush’s head hurt. Because it was effective. She was enjoying the conversations and the compliments. And that annoyed him more than he liked.
It made Dato look like… like someone the gods had dropped on his doorstep wrapped in shiny paper with a tag saying Here is a competent man.
Rush stared out the window, jaw tight, and considered riding after the first stop. Giving Kairi space. Letting Damon do what he did best while Rush went to stand near Jayce and ask the questions that actually mattered.
His attention snapped back when Damon’s gaze slid to him, bright and direct.
“Ryder mentioned you wanted to establish trade and supply lines for Tearia as we work together to retake your country,” Damon said, as casually as if he were asking about tea. “He said the south matters most to you.”
Rush’s interest hooked fast, sharp as a thrown knife. “Yes,” he said, posture shifting without him meaning to. “Working through the southern routes first. Then up the coastal regions.”
Damon nodded like he understood.
And, to Rush’s reluctant satisfaction, he did.
“You’ll want coastal supply where you can keep it,” Damon said. “Ports you can secure, routes you can patrol, warehouses you can count without guessing. The inland roads are quicker, but they’re easier to choke if Saebria starts playing bandit-king again. If we make the coast steady, the rest can breathe.”
Rush’s eyes narrowed, calculating. “And the south?”
“Grain and iron,” Damon said simply. “You don’t win a war on hero stories. You win it on bread and metal.” His gaze flicked to Kairi, and his voice softened half a degree. “And you keep your people from starving while you do it.”
Kairi went still for a moment, then nodded slowly, like something inside her had recognized competence and decided to stop bracing for impact.
Darius, quiet as stone, murmured, “That tracks,” like he’d just found a handhold he could trust.
Rush exhaled, the tightness in his chest easing by a fraction. He didn’t like Damon’s charm. He didn’t like how easily he filled space.
But he liked this. He liked that Damon could talk war and logistics without turning it into a parade.
He met Damon’s eyes fully for the first time since the carriage had started moving. “Good,” Rush said. “Then we’ll speak more at the first stop. With maps.”
Damon’s grin turned a shade sharper. “Gladly.”
And as the carriage rolled on, the road humming beneath them, Rush found himself thinking, not without a grudging edge of approval:
All right, Damon Lyon. You’re not just a pretty face with pretty words.