Chapter Twenty
About Time

They rode slowly, at first. They had to. In the saddle, her wounds healed slower, she noticed, and while Caerella was the kind to stay quiet about pain, she was also pragmatic enough to call for a break to avoid her arm and shoulder healing badly and inhibiting her in a fight. So they took plenty of breaks as they traveled South. It was also still getting warmer as they rode towards the warmer lands at the center of the Kingdom. 

While they did, the ice between them thawed too, completely defenseless in the face of Clarus’ optimism. He was able to provoke Flaveo into heated debate, challenging him to a battle of wits that was as fun to listen to as it was sometimes exhausting to follow. It was clear that the Mercenary was trying to measure his years of ‘real-world experience’ up to the Prince’s ‘fancy education’, and the two of them seemed to have a pretty good time bouncing off of each other. 

Rubicus, meanwhile, was also starting to get back to his old self as well. He was fast with jokes, and didn’t hold back any when it came to barbs or verbal backstabbery, and more than once his loud laughter echoed across a campfire. Clarus even got Caerella to smile. 

Vera, in the meantime, would have been happy to observe them. It was strange — how much these four people meant to her. Had come to mean to her now that she was herself. She would have been more than satisfied with just… riding alongside them. Hearing banter like old times. Hearing Clarus’ clear laugh and seeing his insufferably dashing smile. 

But they didn’t let her. They kept dragging her into all of it. The first time Flaveo had shot a verbal arrow at her, she hadn’t been prepared. She’d still been defensive. But after a few seconds, it had become clear that the ‘attack’ had been a playful jab, the way he’d always done with Rubicus. So she’d retaliated. 

After half an hour, she almost fell off her horse laughing when Rubicus made a face behind Caerella’s back, which she’d of course somehow seen. In the evenings, Ruben still asked that she clean some weapons, but he did his own share now, too. Flaveo requested her help with cooking. Caerella pushed her training forwards. But none of them demanded anything, anymore. Something had changed. 

Of course, there was also Clarus. In the evening, he had a tendency to stare South, in the direction of the Capital. Out there was the Cavean, and they were catching up. When she joined him, he quickly turned his attention to her, but it was very clear that his mind was on the monster they were following, and what it might do to his people, his Kingdom. 

“We’ll stop him,” Vera said as she joined him again. It was the third night in a row. They suspected they’d either catch up to him the next day, or at the very least reach one of the larger townships on the edge of the Capital. Whichever came first. “We’ll catch him and we’ll stop him.” Clarus nodded. He’d already taken his armor off for the evening — they rode prepared — but he was still wearing his cloak, and he pulled it a bit tighter around himself. 

“I know,” Clarus said. His eyes reflected the setting sun, but not his enthusiasm. He didn’t seem to entirely believe it. He put an arm on her shoulder and pointed. She tried not to shiver at his touch. Aesling giggled. “Do you see that spot on the horizon?” he asked.

Vera squinted, and she could feel Aesling helping her focus. “Yes,” she said. “Is that the Capital?” The Prince nodded. 

“A day’s ride, and we’ll see the walls of my home.” He frowned for a second and then looked down at her. “Vera, I’m afraid I’ll have to beg you for forgiveness. I’d prostrate myself, but I fear Flaveo would mock me until my dying breath.” He put his hand on his hip and laughed. Vera just barely managed to avoid pouting when he took it off of her shoulder.

“F— For what?” Vera asked in confusion. 

“We’ve traveled together all this time,” he said, “and I’ve never even asked you where you are from.” Clarus considered her for a moment. “If I had to hazard a guess, you’re from up North? You seemed to know your way around there.”

Vera nodded. “Yes. My home town was destroyed by Caligon’s forces, so Rubicus took me in. I’ve been traveling with them since.” 

“I’m sorry for that, Vera,” Clarus said. “I did what I could, back then. Would’ve done more, but my father tried to keep me out of harm’s way. I convinced him that the fort at the Northern Border would be a safe station for me. He didn’t know the Cavean would strike there, though I had my suspicions, and he didn’t find out until I’d already taken a battalion up there with me.” His face fell. “Although I suppose he must’ve thought my attempt something of a… mixed victory. I wish I’d had the chance to tell him it was my choice.”

Vera took a step closer to him. “I’m sorry, Clarus,” she said, not knowing what else to say. It wasn’t like she had known King Lucius well enough to say anything about his happiness, and she didn’t really have an opinion on how the Kingdom had been run. From her perspective, the Kingdom just sort of happened. People worked the fields, tax collectors went around to get the money to rebuild a road here and supply the army there, and mercenaries cleaned up problems nobody else wanted to deal with. She’d always been vaguely aware that Kings were necessary in all that, but she had never given that much thought. Clarus smiled again, and this time, his eyes did too. 

“Thank you, Vera,” he said. “I’ll miss him. And I’ll mourn him properly, too.” He looked ahead again. “Once the Cavean’s been destroyed. I’ll have time to grieve.” His smile stayed on his face, but became a little more strained. “Although I fear it won’t be much.” Vera took another step closer to him. She wished she could comfort him. “You know,” Clarus scoffed, “I suppose I’ll be crowned King, if we manage to defeat the Cavean once and for all.”

“If?” Vera said with a frown. “Clarus, we’ll defeat him.”

“Oh, I’ve no doubt about that,” he said almost nonchalantly. “The question is whether I’ll walk away from it. The first time I hibernated for a full decade, if you’ll recall.”

“I won’t let that happen,” Vera and Aesling said simultaneously, and their voices speaking as one reverberated through the evening air. Prince Clarus jumped a little when he heard the unnatural sound, and his eyebrows shot up. 

“Aesling?” he asked. 

“Yes, love,” Aesling said. “I apologize for that. It seems Vera and myself both feel quite strongly on the subject.” Vera, who had stepped aside to allow Aesling behind the wheel, just nodded. “You are walking away from this fight alive, my Prince,” Aesling continued. “Vera and I have decided. I don’t think you even get a say in this. You are too good and too important.” Aesling looked inward for a moment. Vera could feel the playful judgment. “And far too pretty.” Clarus laughed and wrapped an arm around her. Aesling’s arm slipped around the Prince’s waist effortlessly. So effortlessly Vera couldn’t not be aware of it.

“Thank you, my love. I’ll do my best then. But if it’s what’s best for the Kingdom…”

“There’ll always be another way, my sweet,” Aesling said. Then, turning to Vera. “Do you mind if I —”

“No!” Vera squeaked. “I mean, no, I don’t mind.” There was a brief pause. 

“Actually,” Aesling said, “you do the honors.” 

“What?” Vera said out loud and looked at Clarus. She was acutely aware of the fact that her arm was still around him. “Sorry, it seems I’m here. Again.” 

“There’s no need to apologize, Vera,” the Prince said. “I quite love the fact that you are.” He gave her a cheeky smirk. “Were you going to say something? Or was that Aesling?”

“Um,” Vera said. “N-Not really. Just that I’m here, and that I agree with her.”

“Oh?” Clarus looked at her more intently. “Which part, specifically?” 

“I hate you so much,” Vera said to Aesling, who only cackled in response. “All parts,” she just barely managed. Clarus looked insufferably smug, so she raised her chin defiantly to look up at him. “I think Aesling and I are united front when it comes to you, Clarus.”

He leaned in a little bit closer, and Vera already felt her cheeks start to glow. One of these days, she knew, she’d be useful as a lantern. “So you think I’m pretty?”

“Not the words I’d’ve used,” she squeezed out with only the most titanic of efforts. He took a step, and was now right in front of her. The last of the setting sunlight drew out his profile, and his windswept hair framed his face perfectly. 

“What words would you have?” he asked. The smile faded, his eyes were alert. He was doing the worst possible thing he could have done to her in that moment. He was listening, and he was paying attention. Her arm was still on his hip. His hand was on her shoulder, touching gently. He was close, so close. 

“I —” she started, and then stammered a few more times and then stopped. She frowned, cocked her head, and looked him in his perfect eyes. “No,” she said.

“No?”

“No,” she confirmed. “I’m not playing the innocent, defenseless maiden.” Before Clarus could ask her what she meant — and she could change her mind or lose her cool — she grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled him in for a kiss. 

When she was younger, she’d imagined kissing. She’d wondered what it would be like. The way people talked about it in tales, it was a magical event that was supposed to blow one’s mind, make their heart explode with feelings and butterflies erupt in their stomachs. A good kiss, as the bards told it, set the soul on fire. 

The bards, she realized, were right. As his lips touched hers, she could feel his heart hammer in his chest, against the staccato rhythm of her own. His hands landed on her waist, and he pulled her closer. His lips were soft, his breathing hard, and his movements careful and gentle. It was perfect. He smelled like horse and sword-oil and her hair hadn’t seen a comb in two days, and it was perfect. 

She ran her hands through his hair as she kissed him right on that frustrating face of his, over and over again, until they were both out of breath, the sun had set, and the stars shone brightly overhead. When they finally pulled away, she felt a giggle rise up in her throat, and she couldn’t hold it back.

“Are you all right?” Clarus asked softly.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I am.” She bit her lip and turned away. Even in the dark, she felt distinctly like her blush would be visible. “Was that… good?”

“Child,” Aesling said, “even I am impressed by that one.”

Clarus put a hand on her cheek and tilted her head up, then planted one, much softer kiss on her lips. “I’m glad,” he said. “You deserve the world, Vera. You and Aesling both. If only I had more than one Kingdom to give.” Vera would’ve giggled if she wasn’t reeling from the last kiss. With superhuman effort, she tore herself away.

“W— I should get some rest, prince Clarus,” she said, and resisted the urge to touch her lips. They tingled slightly. “Good night!” As she hurried away, she could hear him chuckling softly behind her. Walking past the campfire, she heard Carella mutter quietly. 

“About time,” Caerella said. Grinning from ear to ear, Vera was practically skipping by the time she got to her tent.

Elamimax

>:)