Page 12 of Lady Knight and the Thief

When the pair had arrived at the crossroads beyond the Morgil estates, Torren took charge, leading them further south along the remnants of a once great river. The beating of their horses’ hooves left a cloud of dust in the air behind them.

Cypress had never left the estates of the nobility, never ventured beyond the large shires of the surrounding countryside. Shehad,however, studied the maps of the realmslong enough to know they were indeed heading in the correct direction for the Wylds.

The deep, uncharted forests where the old magics of the land still held power over the dirt and sky, where no King had dared set foot since the First Kings. The ancient forests sat at the edges of the continent, hungry and waiting.

The idea of the Old Ones still felt like tall tales– mutterings of superstition meant to keep willful young children under the thumb of their caretakers to Cypress. But the Wylds were a real, tangible place. Not just whisperings and old stories written on fading parchment, so perhaps there was some truth to legend after all.

Cypress stared at the space between Torren’s shoulders, occasionally soaking in the sights. Ordinarily, Cypress would be jousting again today, the final day before the tournament of champions began, and Captain Cy would disappear.

The valley where the arena for Cade’s name day was set up was on the other side of the Keep to the north. She tried not to feel any resentment toward her fellow Knights, as she would not be able to defend her record today. The thought of one of the Barron’s sons gaining victory in her absence made Cypress grit her teeth in annoyance. She would have to hold on to the hope that Oswald or another of the Prince Guard would unseat them.

Rather than dwell on what she was missing, Cypress turned her thoughts toward her mission and let her horse follow Torren’s, keeping only the slightest grip on the reins. The sooty buckskin she called Seren was her preferred mount for long-distance traveling between the two horses given to her by the crown. Ember was a warhorse, a machine built for carrying the weight of armor through battle. She was strong and surefooted, but her natural stride was a two-beat trot that was abysmal to sit for long distances.

Seren, on the other hand, was just as intelligent and hardy, but with a much more comfortable ambling gait that ate up the distances that was much kinder on Cypress’s back.

Both animals were excellent, but with wildly different temperaments. Seren was, as her name suggested,serene. Calm and biddable. Ember, on the other hand, was a rope stretched taut; ready to snap at the slightest provocation.

Cypress had been given Ember first, and then she and the crown had quickly come to the conclusion that anyladyseen riding such a horse would be swiftly brought under suspicion that somethingelsewas amiss.

If nothing else, this trip gave Cypress the excuse to justbeherself, without the prying eyes of the court as she carried out her mission.

Cypress rolled her neck and shoulders to free the shirt that clung to her back, then wiped the sweat beading along her brow.

They’d been traveling most of the day without conversation and she’d begun counting down until she could make camp and stop for the night. Torren had also spoken only when it was necessary.

Torren the thief.

Andthe exiled Prince.

There was this… whisper in the back of her mind, a sound hissing through the leaves that set her instincts on edge. Torren’s motives were not as plain as he’d stated in the throne room, Cypress was sure of it.

Torren was planning something, and she would find out what it was.

For now, though, Cypress merely rode along, soaking in the warmth of the day, glad she was not wearing full plate armor, even if she did miss the thrum of the crowd during a bout. As it was just the two of them, Cypress and Torren were making good time, the castle no longer looming behind them on the horizon.

Cypress couldn’t help feeling lost, but also…excitedin a way she hadn’t felt since she was first knighted under the cover of darkness. No Knight had been sent into the Wylds before. She was the first.

Cypress would not fail, not in this.

“We should make camp soon,” Torren said, turning his head to glance back at Cypress.

“Be my guest,” Cypress retorted with a wave of her hand, content to let the male find a suitable place.

She was more than capable of finding and making a campsite, but was content to let the thief continue to underestimate her.

“Anysuggestions?” Torren countered without turning, though his horse slowed, bringing them side by side.

“Somewhere off the road, I would imagine,” Cypress drawled with a smirk.

Torren let out a soft growl of annoyance, and Cypress had to smother a laugh.

“Sorry, Princeling. I’ve never been this far south. You’re on your own.”

Torren wrinkled his face in annoyance, and Cypress smiled in return, the picture of ladylike innocence.

“You know, thisdamseldisguise doesn’t fool me, Lass,” Torren drawled, looking over at her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,Princeling.Or is it Thief?”