John did so. “I think,” he said, after a moment of reflection, “that you gravely underestimate her, sir.”
“And I think that you are blinded by your mate bond.” Dropping his hand, the Knight-Commander fixed John with a piercing stare. “Which is another matter of which we must speak. I have not forgotten that you broke your vow of chastity.”
John bowed his head. “I, I believe that I did so for honorable purposes, in the service of the Pearl Throne, but…I stand ready to receive whatever discipline you see fit, sir.”
The Knight-Commander let out a somewhat exasperated breath. “The usual fate of knights who break their oaths is execution, which is hardly practical at this point in time. As your circumstances were indeed…unusual, I will exercise my right as the Knight-Commander of the Order to waive the full consequences. Once.”
John’s heart had been lifting at this unexpected show of mercy, but at the last word it lurched sideways in his chest. “S-sir,” he stammered. “You cannot mean— sir, we are fully-bonded mates. To demand that we stay apart-”
“Is the only hope of salvaging your honor. And so the only hope I have of saving one of my most promising young knights from utterly destroying himself.” The Knight-Commander put his helmet back on again, his tone turning formal. “I will say this only once, Knight-Poet. There is no place on land or sea where I cannot find you. If I ever have reason to believe that you have dishonored the Order, I will personally hunt you down and execute you myself. Do not break your vows again.”
Chapter 17
The journey south was a nightmare. Neridia had rarely had the chance to travel beyond Scotland before, and normally she would have been glued to the train window, fascinated by glimpses into unfamiliar places and other people’s lives. But now, the slow change of scenery from the beautiful wilderness of the Highlands to the industrial towns of the north of England just made her feel homesick. Every minute, every mile, took her further and further away from everything she’d ever known.
I might never come home again.
Her old life was a smoking ruin behind her. Fire Commander Ash had said that he would handle reporting “the incident,” as he had put it, to the police, and that she did not need to be involved in the matter. Neridia had no idea how he was intending to explain away a burnt-out cottage surrounded by dead bodies, but something about his quiet air of authority made it impossible to doubt that he would.
I wish he could have handled my boss for me too.
Neridia had a sick feeling that she wouldn’t have a job anymore, after her boss got her rather vague voicemail about a “family emergency.” As her boss frequently liked to remind his staff, there was a long line of people hungry for any job opening in conservation.
She didn’t have a home. She likely didn’t have a job. All she had was the slim contents of her bank account, the pearl around her neck, and the few clothes they’d managed to salvage from the fire.
And John.
He was the only thing that enabled her to face the terrifying journey into the unknown, to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Her entire life might lie in
ashes, but whenever she looked at him, a small, secret voice in her soul whispered: Yes. She clung to that strange sense of certainty, trying to have faith that everything would be all right as long as they were together.
She would have liked to cling to him, or at least to hold his hand, but he was in constant motion—patrolling the train carriage, or finding some need to confer with his fellow firefighters, or just fidgeting with the blanket-wrapped hilt of his disguised sword. The mate bond was like a taut rope between them, betraying his deep tension. He was on high alert, every sense straining for any hint of further attack.
Though she knew his duty compelled him to keep a constant vigil, she couldn’t help wishing that he would just sit down. That he would put his arm around her, hold her close and whisper to her that everything would be okay.
Deep down, all she wanted was for him to reassure her that it wouldn’t matter if she never shifted, if she could never go to Atlantis, if she never became the Empress. That whatever happened, they’d figure it out together.
But he was a knight. He was under a vow to speak the truth.
So Neridia bit her tongue, and clasped her hands together tightly in her lap, and didn’t ask him to tell her comforting lies.
London, and hordes of people; hundreds of stares and gasps and not-so-whispered comments as they forged their way through the crowds. Neridia didn’t see a single woman who was even close to her own height, and of course John towered above everyone. More than one group of tourists openly took pictures of them, gawping as if they were animals in a zoo.
John took it all in his stride, not even seeming to notice the camera flashes and pointing fingers. Neridia tried to hide in his shadow, but apparently even a seven-foot-tall, blue-haired slab of pure beefcake wasn’t sufficient distraction to allow her to pass unnoticed.
By the time they finally made it onto the train to Brighton, she felt physically bruised by the weight of so many eyes. It was a relief to curl up in another private first-class cabin, closing her own eyes in miserable exhaustion.
It felt like only a moment before John was gently shaking her shoulder. “Only a little further now, my mate. Take up your courage for just a while longer.”
Heartsick and sore in every muscle from the long, jolting journey, Neridia stumbled after him in a daze. She barely registered the short taxi ride from the station. She stared blankly out the window, not really seeing the lights of the buildings flicking past. It was evening now, and it felt like they had been traveling forever.
“Here, my lady.” John opened the taxi door for her, holding out his hand. “We are here.”
Stepping out of the taxi, Neridia’s spirits lifted a little. There was a sharp, clean tang in the air that cleared her muzzy head. It was nothing like the sweet scent of the Highlands, but there was still something strangely familiar about it. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply.
Somehow…it smells like home.
Opening her eyes, she found that John was watching her, his own blue gaze deep and clear. “It is the scent of the sea, my lady,” he said softly. “We are very close to it here. Have you truly never visited it before?”