I blink but remain quiet.

“He’s taking you there so that you can marry King Lachlan.”

I laugh.

“Oh, I’m sure. What will you tell me next? That you’re starting to like me?”

Her knee hits mine. “I’m serious, Princess. We’re headed to the Aeradian border now. In a few days, you’ll be wed, and we’ll be gone.”

Slowly, I survey her face. She doesn’t appear to be lying, but I can’t be too sure. I don’t know her well enough to decipher her expressions.

“And to answer your question, no. I still despise you,” she says with a smirk.

Though it hurts, I lean forward. “Why would he take me to Aeradian to marry King Lachlan? He knows what that would mean for him, for all Baelliles.”

“I learned long ago to stop trying to figure out why Braizen does what he does,” she says and rests her neck against the plush seat. “When his mind’s made up, that’s it. There’s no swaying him, no matter how hard we try. The rest of us just need to choose whether we’ll suffer through those decisions with him or not.”

“And so here you are,” I muse. “Stuck in a box with the Verdanian Princess, your mortal enemy. What could’ve possibly convinced you to suffer this decision with him?”

She closes her eyes as we hear Torrent and Braizen settle into their perches on the driver’s seat. Lin braces himself on the footboard to my right, brandishing his giant crossbow like a trophy. They’re all cursing and mocking each other. Lorna clears her throat and points a finger toward their voices.

“Because of that right there,” she smiles.

“Their bickering?” I cross my arms.

Her smile stretches. “The sound of a family. One that decided long ago that it’s better to die together than it is to live apart.”

“Tomorrow, we’ll reach the border,” Braizen calls down. He’s already at the top of the hill and is staring into the distance, a torn map in his hand. Earlier, we found a small clearing, and Torrent and Lorna are already gathering wood for a fire. Autumn is truly breaking across The Wood, and her coldness shows us no mercy.

I join them and, for a moment, enjoy the beauty of the scenery.

“It’s risky,” Lin says. “A fire is more of a beacon than anything else. We’ll give away our position, Braze.”

“Shall we freeze to death instead?” Though he faces away from me, his curls dancing in the wind, I know precisely the grin that marks his face.

Lin raises his chin. “I only mean it isn’t wise to press our luck. We’ve survived thus far; do we really want to invite trouble in on our last night?”

I listen closely, pretending to search for small branches to kindle the hypothetical fire.