The carriage was given to us with little argument, though I could see the desire to fight in Xion's hardened gaze. Most parents had little jabs at their children, no matter their age. Enough to the child in line, but softened so that no one was permanently cut off from the other. I was sure my mother would have sighed about the way I kneaded bread or kept the home once I was married, but would have never pushed hard enough to wound me. There was no such politeness here.

We were taking the carriage. We could not deny it because we were vulnerable, but it was certainly not an act of kindness. It was simply survival.

"We will take good care of your horses," the witch queen assured. Her face did not reveal even a sliver of affection for the small pony who had carried me here or the carriage horses that had been so brave to carry Xion and Devlin bareback.

"And we will take care of yours," Xion promised.

"Perhaps not you," the queen said. "I entrust their care to your mate instead."

My mouth fell open in shock. Certainly, one could see the bond a person had with their horse. This pony was not my horse and, as far as I knew, the queen could scarcely see at all. How could she have possibly known that I had been raised around horses, that when nothing else gave me comfort, they did?

Xion was not nearly as bothered. He turned to Devlin. "Get in the carriage. I will drive."

"You are the target right now," Devlin protested. He kept his voice low, but somehow, I knew that the queen would hear even a mouse whispering.

But even with shadows surrounding us, there was just enough light to showcase the dark circles around his eyes. He had already taken a night watch. His mind and body would not be alert forever.

"Get in the carriage," Xion ordered. "Both of you."

It was a tone I had never heard. I assumed it was one specifically reserved for being around his mother. I'm sure Devlin would have argued longer and harder otherwise. He climbed into the dark carriage first. I hesitated. This could not be it. Surely, we hadn't traveled this far and faced these odds, just to turn around and go back so soon.

"Get in, Lark," Xion said, his voice bordering on a bark.

I followed his demands, knowing that fighting it would only start something I didn't fully understand.

I felt like I had barely sat down on the seat before the horses were being clucked to and the carriage surged forward.

I stayed quiet, trying not to show any of my fear or discomfort as we crossed back through the blackness that was his mother's powers. Could she cast the shadows at will? Or did she always have a tube of night around her, both announcing her arrival and hiding her from view? Could her shadows feel? Was the blackness all around me able to prod against my skin, to touch my mind?

We broke free from the hold. Her little army was moving away, back to the witch kingdom. We were setting off towards the vampire realm. At least, now I understood why there would have been issues had she come across the vampire borders. There would have been an uproar if the witch queen had just flounced around, acting like she wasn't stomping all over treaties that she herself had put in place. And Xion, already so divided as a ruler, would have been hated even more for letting an enemy into their own palace.

"She's not a very pleasant woman," Devlin sighed.

He was trying to be attentive or maybe he was just trying to act like he was, but the dark lines in his normally brought face gave him away. His head was leaning against the wall of the carriage as if it were too heavy for him to hold up. I thought that if I hadn't been in the carriage with him, he would have laid down on the black velvet seat and fallen asleep already.

"Xion would never do that," I blurted.

Devlin only raised an eyebrow at me. "Are you trying to comfort me, Lark?"

"Well..." Was I? Didn't I hate Xion? Didn't I want to yank the very palace stone from beneath his feet and watch him crumble? "I'm just saying that I don't think he would ever force you to stop wielding magic, no matter what his mother says."

Devlin snapped his fingers. A tiny light floated there for just an instant before it flickered out and died. Magelight is what I thought it was called. Apparently, in the witch kingdom, they had lights everywhere at night, the cities never seemed to sleep there. It was a strange concept to consider: light all the time, whenever it was needed without the scorching heat of a fire.

"I've never been a powerful warlock," Devlin admitted. "When I was at home, I used to get teased for it. I'm this big hulking man, but my magic is tiny, feeble really. It was laughable. Then, I was called up to be Xion's guard. No one was laughing then. I thought I had been selected for my loyalty, for my strength, for my personal relationship that I had formed with the prince." Devlin's head bobbed as we were pulled through a muddy rut. "Now I'm wondering if I was selected because I was so weak that my loyalty was almost guaranteed and because, when the time came, it would be easier for me to transition into a vampire. With less magic in my blood, it wouldn't be so painful."

For the briefest moment, I considered how they grew up, but all I had to go off of was the cruel queen and her frightening magic. All I could envision was dark tunnels, sullen subjects, and two little boys who didn't know how to laugh.

"I can't speak for the witch queen," I said. "And I can't really speak for Xion either, but I really do think that he would never ask you to give up something that was important to you."

Devlin let out a soft sigh. His battle against the exhaustion was well-fought, but his eyes were closing now, his shoulders dropping a little. How anyone could be so tired when I was so charged baffled me. Surely any sane person would feel fear after encountering a woman like the witch queen.

"It's not about Xion," Devlin admitted softly. "It's about my sacrifice. He is my king. He shouldn't have to ask. I should just do it for him. Should have already done it. But somehow, I just can't. I just can't."

His eyes were completely closed now. Every now and then there was a brief flutter as if he were trying to convince himself to awaken, but couldn't. I just sank deeper into the carriage cushions. I wanted to be tired. I wanted to fall asleep. I wanted all of this to be over.

But all I could think about was the queen, the way her unseeing eyes would flash to me, the hard set of her mouth. So unlike my own mother who would have sprinted towards me with her arms outstretched and tears in her eyes. Then again, my mother would have never said a word about me slaughtering a man, mate or not. She would have just been thrilled that I had found someone that I could love.

Not that I loved him. Who could love a vampire after almost being killed by one? Who could love a man who didn't immediately say that he could never kill me, had never even considered it when challenged?

With Devlin snoring so quietly, I let my head fall into my hands and jammed my eyes shut. How could this have possibly happened to me? Sure, when I had been young, I had dreamed that I was meant for the bigger world, like all children did. I thought I was going to make a difference, shake the world to its very core. As I grew older, I came to realize that quiet lives could be just wonderful and that I needed to settle.

Surely, if Xion had never found me, I would have had that kind of quiet life where I could admire flowers and talk to other women about their quilts and kids. The normal life. Not the life where I was responsible for a kingdom, not the kind of life where it might be easier to pick me off than to let me live.

I might have been a dreamer as a child, but I knew that I had never, ever asked for this. Not for any of it.

The carriage came to a stop. Devlin jerked out of his sleep with a startled snore and I did my best to wipe away the tears that had started to pool without my permission. Apparently, I didn't do a very good job of it because Devlin gave me a sympathetic smile.

"Things will be better after some sleep and some food," he assured as if I hadn't been trying to pull him out of his own crisis just a few snores ago.

We were still in the Merfolk province, that much was clear by the unforgiving humidity in the air. I assumed that we stopped here because it was safer than going back into vampire lands where Xion would be a target again. I quietly tended to the carriage horses while Devlin helped his king set up the small tent and start a fire. No words were exchanged during the work, probably on the account of Xion's clenched jaw and narrowed eyes.

"Always liked horses, huh?" Devlin said when I sat down at the fire. He passed the remaining pieces of bread and cheese to me. I didn't know if I was more grateful for the food or for the break in the tense silence.

"Always," I agreed.

"Well, what do you think of these horses?" he pressed. Some of his sunshine was reemerging even though the moon was starting to rise now. "Would you buy them for yourself or do they not make the cut?"

I studied the carriage horses. Big hulking beats with rippling muscles and fearless eyes. If someone told me these horses had been born and raised in the belly of a volcano, I would believe it. They would charge into flames or war head on without a snort or a stamp.

"They are lovely, but not for me," I said carefully.

"Really? I think they are quite fine things. Then again, you didn't like Xanthos." A flicker of something dark and dangerous flashed across Devlin's face, but was masked almost instantaneously.

"Xanthos was a lovely horse, a great horse for you, I'm sure. I just have no need for flashy sport horses like that." I had to pull the conversation away from the very dead animal, knowing how I would react when the hurt was so wretchedly fresh. "My father and I went to auctions together. We would always pick horses that were good for the farm. I suppose, at the end of the day, you really can take the girl out of the farm, but not the farm out of the girl."

There was a heavy silence. Judging by the deep furrow between Devlin's brows, my words were not enough to make him stop thinking about his beloved steed. The loss of an animal was always a wild, emotional thing. And surely, to lose Xanthos the way he had, was enough to make him consider violent acts as he stared into the crackling fire.

"I always wondered what farm life would be like," Xion said suddenly.

My gaze flashed to him, my eyebrows almost jumping into my hairline. "Oh? The life of royalty was not enough for you?"

He didn't rise to the bait, just tipped his head back and watched the sky darken. "I feel as if it is simple nature to want what you do not have. I'm sure I would die quickly seeing as I have no experience with growing crops or raising livestock, but the idea that my choices are made for me and only influence my life seems quite wonderful."

I thought of a young Xion, constantly under the thumb of his mother. I thought of a little boy who didn't know how to breathe without fearing the consequence, a child who wanted to play like the others, but had to sit on the throne instead.

My childhood had not been easy. I had wanted for many things and gone to sleep with a grumbling stomach. I could easily recall the nights I would lay awake and listen to the wind howl, wondering if it would be strong enough to finally damage the house beyond repair. There had been awful moments, like knowing I had to find a husband because one less mouth to feed was better for my family.

But I had never thought of anyone outside of my own family's walls so intensely that it kept me from sleeping at night.

Devlin finally announced that he was going to retire for a little while, just to have another quick nap in the carriage so he could do night watch again.

It was only Xion and I, seated on opposite sides of the fire.

So softly, I almost couldn't hear him over the sounds of the dwindling fire, he said, "Tell me about your life before me."

And I did. I told him of the nights when the wind would howl and the individual rooms would get too cold so we would all stay in the kitchen by the stove. I told him of losing cattle or pigs to disease so we didn't have enough to eat. I told him of awful storms raging through the village, snatching away all of our crops in one night and how we would all panic because no one was going to prevent our deaths if we starved.

But I also told him of making mud pies in the field with my sister, laughing as we pretended to mix up unimaginable potions. I spoke of how my mother would sing as she plucked fresh vegetables from the garden, how we would all pitch in to wash them or pickle them. And I talked about my dad telling me to be quiet while we fished and how I would sing loudly and catch more fish than him anyway.

And as Xion listened to me with such wonder and awe plain on his face, I certainly did feel quite lucky. 

~~~Question of the Day~~~

What is your favorite dog breed?

I love Border Collies, but could never have one as I have no animals for it to herd and live in a duplex.