Riley
I had rehearsed the speech the entire ride.
It was a good speech. Dramatic, but not overwrought. Firm but compassionate. The kind of speech that would make Kaida’s eyes fill with grateful tears and make her say something like “I knew you’d come, Riley” in a small trembling voice while I helped her onto my horse and we rode away into the sunset.
I had really outdone myself with this speech.
“Pick up the pace,” Donal said, from beside me.
I picked up the pace.
We had set out the moment the dust from Kaida’s carriage had settled on the road, the four of us — myself, Donal, Finn and Corbin — slipping out of the pack manor with the casual ease of men going for a morning ride. Nobody stopped us. Nobody asked questions. My father was busy congratulating himself on a difficult politica
