Blood Magic and Brandy by Emily Michel

Author:Emily Michel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fairy tale, magic, fae, royalty, coming of age, evil stepmother, new adult, heiress
Publisher: Emily Michel
Published: 2022-04-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Rane held tightly as Sunny flew over the sun-dappled road, her quick hooves growing the distance between them and the guards.

“Princess,” Captain Jadran called.

She was far enough away to pretend she hadn’t heard him.

They drew to the edge of the ancient apple orchard where she’d first met Nevar. This was the last and best of her hiding spots, and the twisted trees were old friends. Sadness and longing coiled around her heart. If she had known then... No, she wouldn’t change how they’d met, but she would change what happened now. Looping Sunny’s reins around a low-hanging branch, she continued her “search” on foot. The rest of the party thundered up, leaving their steeds in the care of a guard.

Rane wasn’t trying to outrun Jadran; she was tired and grouchy after spending the last few days hunting wild geese. A part of her was sickly gleeful to be leading everyone in circles. Another part was growing frustrated by the whole endeavor. The longer they searched, the more likely any evidence pointing at Jocelyn as the true culprit would disappear, and her ability to save Nevar and his family diminished.

A final part of her, the strongest part, wanted to run to Nevar. She told herself it was to check on his wellbeing, but the truth was far more terrifying. She’d developed an infatuation for the young lord, but her fate did not lie in stolen kisses, or liquid bronze eyes, or in the fairy forest. Someday, she would rule Lorea with an appropriate consort at her side. Nevar defied any reasonable person’s definition of “appropriate,” especially after recent events.

Jadran finally caught up to her, the other two guards fast on his heels.

“Your Highness, we cannot protect you if you do not stay close.”

“I don’t fucking need your protection. I’m perfectly capable—”

“Lord Nevar is a murderer.”

“Alleged,” she muttered. He shot a dubious glance at her.

“Even if he isn’t a fighter, he has more reach than you, more muscle, more mass. That is nothing to scoff at and could be the difference between winning and losing.”

Rane clenched her jaw. She was in no danger from Nevar, but she couldn’t tell Jadran. It would give far too much away. Instead, she ceded the point.

“Apologies. It has been a frustrating two days. We have covered all the hiding places I know in this region. This is the last.”

He dipped his head, granting his forgiveness. He had little choice, true, but as the heir to the throne, she didn’t need to apologize at all.

The breeze rushed through trees laden with apples, their rosy skins inviting. Birds chirped, and the soft ground swallowed their footsteps as they approached the first shed. Rane pulled her dagger, the leather-covered hilt warm in her hand. Make this look good.

She yanked the door open, and Jadran entered. The shed was empty except for a few tools and baskets for harvest. Dust sparkled in the light, and a musty scent filled the air. No one had been here in a long time.

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