We Go North
1629 Words
Princess Moon
Ashen did not answer quickly enough.
Nara looked away first, hurt flashing across her face.
Veyra’s gaze moved between them, sharper than usual, but she said nothing.
I took the decree back from Solan.
Every word seemed to burn.
Killed on sight.
Enemy of the crown.
Ashen Drakewood.
Not Dorian.
Not Callan.
Ashen.
The boy who saved me from rogues. The boy who returned for his sister. The boy who had apologized to my uncle after protecting us from a stranger in the dark.
The boy whose hand had touched mine like trust was a language he was only beginning to learn.
“They need to hear me,” I said.
Ashen’s eyes met mine.
“No.”
The word was quiet.
Absolute.
“I am the princess,” I said. “If I return and tell them the truth—”
“Dorian will say I bewitched you.”
“Let him.”
Solan shook his head. “Moon, he has already planted that thought. The court is afraid. If you return now defending Ashen without proof, half the council will say the bond has compromised you.”
“My bond is not a disease.”
“No,” Solan said. “But frightened men will call it one if it keeps them in power.”
I hated him for being right.
Ashen walked to the table and picked up the decree.
His eyes moved over it slowly.
“So now the kingdom has a name for what SilvaFrost always thought I was,” he said.
My chest tightened.
“You are not a monster.”
His fingers tightened around the paper.
“I know I’m not,” he said.
The words should have reassured me.
They did not.
Because his voice was too steady.
Too controlled.
“But I hate how easy it is for everyone else to believe I am.”
I stepped toward him.
This time, he did not step back.
That gave me enough courage to keep going.
“They do not know you.”
“No.” His mouth curved faintly, bitterly. “That has never stopped anyone from deciding what I am.”
“Ashen—”
“I am angry,” he said.
The honesty stopped me.
His eyes lifted to mine.
“I am angry that Dorian can say the word monster and the world listens. I am angry that Callan can stand in court pretending to be wounded when he wore my face. I am angry that my father will probably say nothing because silence has always been easier for him than claiming me.”
The frost at the edge of the window thickened.
Nara watched him with wide eyes.
Ashen looked down at the decree again.
“And I am angry that a part of me expected this.”
That was the line that hurt most.
Not the accusation.
Not the bounty.
That.
I reached for him before thinking.
This time, my hand closed around his.
Ashen went still.
For half a heartbeat, I thought he might pull away.
He did not.
His fingers were cold, but slowly, carefully, they curled around mine.
The bond warmed.
Faintly.
Enough.
“We will fix this,” I said.
His thumb moved once against my hand.
“I believe you want to.”
“I will.”
His eyes softened.
Then sharpened again.
“Not by walking into their trap.”
I lifted my chin. “Then what?”
He released my hand, but not as a retreat. This time, it felt like movement with purpose.
He crossed to the small shelf near the hearth where his mother’s ring had opened hidden marks in the wood earlier. He looked down at the silver-white band on his finger.
“I was already going somewhere before Dorian dragged you into this.”
Nara’s face shifted. “Mother’s uncle.”
Ashen nodded.
“Beyond the kingdom?” Solan asked.
“Yes.”
“That is not a short road.”
“No.”
“It will be watched now.”
“Everything will be watched now.”
Solan could not argue with that.
Ashen looked at me.
“I need to know who I am,” he said. “Not what Dorian says. Not what SilvaFrost called me. Not what the council fears. Me.”
The room went quiet.
“My mother told me Nara and I were special,” he continued. “She gave me this ring. She died before she could explain. If her uncle is alive, if her bloodline still exists somewhere beyond the border, then that is where answers begin.”
“And proof,” I said.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe is better than walking into a court that already wants you dead,” Veyra said.
Lord Pebblewick cooed sharply from the table.
Veyra looked at him. “No one asked for your legal opinion.”
The bird puffed up.
Nara wiped at her eyes with her sleeve and pretended she had not.
Solan rubbed his bruised throat. “If you go beyond the border, I cannot protect you as easily.”
Ashen looked at him.
“You do not have to protect me.”
Solan’s brows lifted. “That was not an insult.”
“I know.”
For a moment, the two of them only stared at each other.
Then Solan nodded slowly, as if deciding something.
“I can give you a head start.”
Moonlight and fear tangled in my chest.
“You are coming with us,” I told him.
Solan looked at me like I had just ordered him to wear a clown mask to council.
“No, I am not.”
“You found us once.”
“Alone. Quietly. Because I knew how you think.”
“That is insulting.”
“That is family.”
I glared.
He continued, “If I disappear too, the court knows I found you. If I return, I can slow them down. Mislead them. Watch Dorian. Watch Varric. Protect your mother from inside the mess.”
My anger faltered.
I hated that he made sense.
Again.
“I do not like this,” I said.
“Good,” Solan replied. “It would be concerning if you did.”
Ashen looked at him more carefully now.
“You would do that?”
Solan’s gaze flicked to the bruises on his own throat.
Then back to Ashen.
“You nearly choked me to death because you thought I was a threat to my niece.” His mouth twitched. “I have decided to take that as evidence of sincerity.”
Ashen blinked.
Veyra sighed. “Royal mouse has accepted the murder attempt as courtship credentials.”
Moonlight help me, I almost laughed.
Almost.
Then the weight of the decree pressed down again.
I looked at Ashen.
Killed on sight.
Enemy of the crown.
Monster.
My kingdom had placed those words around his neck like chains.
He met my eyes.
I could feel less from him now than I wanted. The bond was still new, still uncertain, still full of spaces I did not know how to cross.
But his hand found mine again.
This time, he reached first.
It was brief.
Only a touch.
Only his fingers brushing mine before the others could see too much.
But I felt it.
So did Storm.
A promise, maybe.
Or an apology.
Or simply Ashen trying.
That was enough to make my heart ache.
For now.
Veyra stood suddenly. “Pack. Now.”
Nara frowned. “We just decided that?”
“No.” Veyra moved to the window and peered into the pale morning. “Pebblewick did not fly through three frost pockets and two fae winds because he enjoys cardio. If this decree reached my contact, it has reached hunters.”
Ashen’s body changed at once.
No hesitation.
No uncertainty.
Protector.
“How long?”
Veyra’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe hours.”
Lord Pebblewick cooed.
She glanced at him.
“Or less.”
The cabin seemed to inhale.
Nara ran upstairs.
Solan moved toward the door, then stopped and looked back at me.
“You have to go now.”
I nodded.
But my feet did not move.
This was my kingdom.
My home.
My crown.
And now leaving it felt like betrayal.
Staying would be worse.
Ashen stepped beside me.
Not touching.
Close enough that his scent wrapped around my fear and steadied it.
“I will get you home,” he said quietly.
I looked at him.
The hunted wolf promising to return the princess to the kingdom that wanted him dead.
My throat tightened.
“And I will clear your name.”
He did not say he believed me.
He did not say I know.
He only looked down at the ring on his finger, then toward the northern trees beyond the glass.
“We find my mother’s uncle first,” he said. “We find out what I am.”
Outside, somewhere beyond the pines, a horn sounded.
Low.
Distant.
Not royal.
Not rogue.
Hunter.
Lord Pebblewick flapped his wings and knocked over a cup.
Veyra cursed.
Nara appeared on the stairs with two bags and a knife too large for her hand.
Solan opened the door to check the woods.
And Ashen stood between us and the sound, calm as winter before a storm.
My kingdom wanted him dead.
His bloodline might be the only thing that could save him.
And if I followed him now, I would not be returning as the missing princess.
I would be choosing the hunted wolf over the crown.
Storm rose inside me, steady and certain.
Mate.
I looked at Ashen.
Then I picked up my cloak.
“Then we go north.”
- Writer
