“Draka!” He heard a woman’s voice call in between a barrage of loud knocks.

  Adrian rolled toward the door, barely able to open his eyes against the sleep trying to keep them closed. He blinked at it for a second. The knocking wasn’t stopping.

  “Draka!” The knocking only stopped long enough for the handle to rattle.

  Adrian nodded at it as if whoever was behind it could see as he sat up and rubbed his eyes with one hand, reaching for his sword with the other. He pulled the belt over his shoulder and stepped into his trousers, stumbling with each leg toward the door through the dimly lit room. The fire of the hearth was barely a flame. Why does it never last in this blasted place? It is so cold here.

  “Draka! Open the plowing door!” The knocks were like a hundred explosions.

  Adrian opened the door to find Maud with only one arm through the sleeve of her long fur coat, her spotted saddleless horse barely visible in the night behind her, standing on the road.

  He furrowed his brow as he looked her over. He could see from the opening of her coat that her chemise was covered in blood and she was cradling a wrapped hand. Her beautiful face was filled with a fiery glare.

  “Not you. Where’s the King?”

  “Did someone attack you?” He reached for his sword with a step forward that was stopped by another harsh glare from the short woman in front of him. Suddenly, the cold was the least of his worries.

  “I cut myself,” Maud snapped at him. “Where’s the King?”

  Adrian rubbed his eyes in an attempt to hide his embarrassment, “He’s at the Fort with the council. What’s wrong? Maybe I can…” But Maud was already stepping off the porch to her barebacked horse. “Wait!” He jumped after her. The cold air bit through his clothes with a vengeance. He stepped in front of her horse before she could turn it.

  “Out of my way, Ward. This time, it truly doesn’t concern you,” She growled.

  Pearl had made her way out of the stable with Vigora—because of course they unlatched the gate the moment their friend came to visit—and were trotting to either side of her horse.

  Adrian took hold of the reins to her horse, wincing at the glare it earned him. He was already shivering, but that made him shake like a leaf in a storm, though he stood his ground.

  “Let me help, Miss Maudeline, please,” Adrian looked down at her cradled hand and the blood.

  Maud jerked the reins, but he held them tighter. “Let go, ward.”

  “My name is Adrian,” he stiffened. Blasted cold! He took a step toward her, trying to look deep in her eyes, but was distracted by Pearl rubbing against Maud’s horse. Thankfully, so was Maud, who jerked her chin back as they rubbed cheeks and nibbled at each other’s noses. “And I can get you there faster on Pearl.”

  Maud eyed him. He couldn’t tell if it was anger, frustration, intrigue, or—he was praying—thankfulness, but she said with a softness to her frustrated tone, “Fine. Hurry up, I’m going to get one of Draka’s shirts on.”

  “I have a robe from Rostov beside my bed that will be decent,” Adrian said with rattling teeth as she let go of the reins, “And warm. The blue one.”

  “Thank you,” Maud had fully softened at him, her eyes trailing over his face with a hesitation that felt almost…sorrowful. And then she rushed inside.

  Adrian led all three horses into the stable and quickly tossed some logs into the furnace in there to keep the fire in it warm before hurriedly saddling Pearl. He was thankful to be able to do it within the umbrella of that warmth, since his fingers were barely able to grip the belts and buckles at first.

  Once he was done with Pearl, he turned to Maud’s horse, who was watching them with her ears perked with curiosity, her tail swishing. He rubbed the horse’s nose—he couldn’t remember what she renamed it—and said to her, “You stay here with your aunty until she gets back.” Then to Vigora with a wagging finger, “No funny business. Keep her here unless there’s trouble. Then you do what needs be, you rotten shite.” And he rubbed Vigora’s cheek and let her nibble his hair for a moment the way she has since he was a small boy.

  When he led Pearl to in front of the house, Maud was waiting on the porch in his blue robe and her fur coat, his own thick fur cloak draped over her arm. The wrapped hand, though sleeved now, was still cradled against her. He nodded thanks as he pulled his on with a slide of his sword to a comfortable spot beneath it. His bones were rattling as much as his teeth.

  Maud stepped to climb onto the saddle and he raised a hand to help but let it down, unsure whether he should or not. She lifted herself with ease and looked down at him.

  Adrian reached again, but stopped himself before he got too far. “If you could—um—slide forward.”

  “That would be improper here,” Maud raised a brow.

  “Of course it would be,” Adrian said under his breath, cursing himself. “Right. Did Draka teach you how to steer Vigora?”

  Maud nodded.

  “I’ll follow to the ferry and meet you on the other side. When you’re halfway to the lake, direct her to jump…”

  “Jump?” Maud shrieked.

  “Yes, jump,” Adrian handed her the reins. “Lean into her mane and hold tight with your knees, but lift them. Heels, too. She’ll carry you, I promise.”

  Maud looked at the fort, then down at Pearl’s mane, then to him, and began to get off the saddle. “Nope.”

  Adrian stepped in, stopping her. “The ferry won’t take you until sunrise,” He caught her eyes. “If it’s important enough that you’re here now, then it’s important enough to get there.”

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  “I—I’m not—” She shook her head, “I can’t hold on with both hands…”

  Adrian found himself eyeing the distance of the lake between the fort and the road. He knew that he should be ashamed at how excited he was at the suggestion he was about to make, but he also understood that there was an urgency to it that would protect her honor. “It won’t be improper if I ride with you. I can hold on for the both of us.”

  Maud hesitated. She looked him over. She looked down at her cradled hand. She looked to the trees across from the house, which made Adrian furrow his brow. She looked at the fort. Then she slid forward in the saddle with a nod and pulled her feet from the stirrups. Adrian lifted himself up behind her.

  He hoped that she couldn’t feel the quickening of his heartbeat through their layers. She smelled of cedar and spices. He swallowed to steady himself as he reached around her to grab the reins, leaning over her shoulder with a brush of his cheek through her cool, dark hair, careful not to run it along her cheek. He didn’t want her to think he was taking advantage of the situation. He wanted their cheeks to touch. He did, however, tap the top of her thigh.

  “Hook your ankle on my leg and keep it there the entire time,” Adrian said. When he felt her strain to reach with her foot, he winced, “Don’t take this to mean more than a precaution.” And he put an arm around her with a tug that slid her firmly against him.

  Maud turned fiercely narrowed eyes on him, “Not much of a warning.”

  Adrian took a deep breath. He refused to face her. She was close enough he would end up nose to nose with her if he turned his head. Instead, he was studying that gap across the lake to the fort. “There are handles on the saddle in front of you. When I lean into her mane, I’m going to hold onto those when she jumps to make sure you don’t fall off. It will be—” He scrunched his nose, “intimate. So, if that is too much for you…”

  “Plowing go, already!”

  Adrian leaned sideways in surprise. She’s got a mouth on her! He blinked it away and tapped his knees to Pearl’s side.

  Pearl sprang forward. Maud grunted at the sudden jolt. She folded into him. He tightened his elbows into her sides. He felt her hooked ankles and legs tense around his. He kept his eyes on the approaching gap. Fields on either side of the road became lines of gray as Pearl pushed herself to her fastest as he leaned, pressing Maud into the saddle, raising his knees, just as he had said he would. Everything became indistinguishable except the lake and the fort.

  Maud’s house passed with a whip of their hair in a swirl together and Pearl’s hooves curled into the air. Dirt was no longer beneath them. There was no road. There was nothing but darkness below, broken only by blurred flutters of the jagged breaks created by rippled reflections of the torchlights from the fort walls. He felt Maud’s breath hold under him. He felt her body become hard as stone through the coat, through the robe, felt her cheek press to his as if she were pleading for comfort, pleading as if her life was being pulled from her.

  And Pearl’s hooves crushed across hardened ground again with a trot. He leaned back in the saddle, raising Maud with him, glad to feel her take a breath through the arm wrapped around her. Pikemen rushed to them from the gate while others were swarming from the bailey.

  “Princess!” was being called as Pearl trotted in a circle. Adrian steadied her enough to help Maud down.

  “Take her to the King,” Adrian called as he let one of the pikemen take her reins.

  Maud was still keeping that one hand close to her heart while holding his arm with the other to ease herself off the saddle. She looked up to him the moment she was off with warmth, “Thank you.”

  “He is in a council meeting,” one of the pikemen said, “They’re not to be disturbed.”

  “I didn’t ask,” Adrian was on the ground. “Stable the horse, I’ll bring her myself.”

  He turned to Maud, who was looking sheepish, out of place. She must not know her true privilege, he pinched the side of his mouth at her. He put a hand out for her to follow. She didn’t move, just stared. His eyes were drawn to the injured hand again.

  He grabbed her uninjured one and pulled her toward the steps to the doors of the offices. “Which door is it, sergeant?”

  “I said—”

  Adrian drew his sword with his free hand and, with a whip to adjust it to press the tip under the man’s chin, “The High Prince of Anatolia asked you a question, soldier.”

  “Middle door,” the sergeant pointed, keeping his chin lifted just enough that Adrian’s falchion point didn’t break skin.

  Without another word, Adrian tightened his hold on Maud’s hand and pulled her, gaping and wide-eyed, toward it. He spun his blade back into its sheath before they were under the roof of the stables. The soldiers on either side of the door eyed them, their own pikes crossed over it.

  “This is…” Maud began, though she held onto his hand as tightly as he held hers.

  He glared at each of them, still a few paces away. He whispered to Maud, “You’re his daughter, command them to open the door.”

  “I’m not, though,” She whispered back. “I denied it.”

  Adrian turned his back on the soldiers to face her, his other hand going to her side to emphasize what he was about to say as much as the gaze he directed into her beautiful emerald eyes, “You have authority, Miss Maudeline, if not through him, then through your mother. Command them to open the door.”

  “You’re a Prince? You’re Queen Isa’s son?” She was looking at him in such confusion, lost before him.

  He lowered himself to level with her, “This is your kingdom. Command them, Princess. They will obey you.”

  She blinked, her eyes shifting around him, making their way down to their feet.

  He grabbed her shoulders to stop their descent. “Maudeline!” He drew her gaze back to him. “This is what is yours by right.”

  It was there, as her eyes looked deep into his, that he saw that determination return to them. The same determination that he had found when he opened that door, the very same that had been found when she was arguing with Karl, the strength that made chills climb his spine at how inspiring it was for him. He had reached her.

  She moved past him to the soldiers. “I need to see the King. Open the door.”

  The soldiers looked at each other, unsure. She looked over her shoulder, pleading. Adrian nodded. She turned back, straightening.

  “I’m Princess Maudeline,” she said with more gusto to her voice. “You will open this door, now!”

  They both raised their pikes and the door was opened. She smiled one last time at him before stepping through. Adrian only bowed his head proudly.

  Once the door was closed and the soldiers returned to their places, he sighed with relief and pulled his coat tight around himself. How could it possibly feel colder than the Urals and not even be winter yet? He went to the stall they had put Pearl, within the warmth of the furnace they had there, and snuggled against her. Might as well finish the night here, he decided.

  She curled a leg over him and lay her long chin over the side of his face as he finally closed his eyes. Though he was shivering, he was warmed by two things as he drifted; he had another chance to help Draka’s new ward again and snuggling with Pearl was far more comfortable than that bumpy pile of hay.