Chapter Thirteen
Helena glanced over her shoulder at her companions as they crested the rise in the valley before riding down into the village.
Relief washed through her when she spotted the shack at the top of the hill. Aron would have seen them by now from his spot in the watch tower—if they could call it that.
As if to prove how right she was, four horses cantered toward them bearing Belaen guards. Etta and Alex’s version of city guards wore no armor. Helena suspected they didn’t need it when they could rely on magic.
Riding in the center of the guards was none other than the king himself.
Alex shouted a greeting.
“Oi, King.” Edmund smiled, more in exhaustion than from any sense of joy.
Helena had long since stopped being shocked by the informality in Bela. She reminded herself E
