Four days later, I was watching as the rising mountain peaks of the Golden Mountians grew taller until they blocked everything from sight. Snow already dusted their edges, long fingery lines extending to the earth. The hands of Angels, our priestess would say. Reaching down to protect the Angelicans from the enemy.

Garnette. The Golden Mountains ringed our border, creating a natural barrier between us and the Angel-haters.

We had been moving through the countryside for some time. There had been nothing in sight but long stretches of farmland, workers out cutting down the last of the stalks in order to prepare for the winter.

"We're almost to the pass."

I jumped, having grown so accustomed to the long stretch of silence I could almost imagine I was in my carriage alone. Lady Sabine wasn't looking at me; her gaze fixed on the mountains. Her expression was fixed, the hard lines of her jaw and cheekbones from stone. "It has been ages since I passed through here."

Despite not wanting to indulge her, I found that a spark of curiosity burned at the back of my mind, no matter how I wanted to ignore it. Questions had been building for days now.

I sighed. "You've been to Garnette before?"

We swayed in the carriage, its wheels turning below us as the driver maneuvered the horses around a bend in the road. She shook her head.

"No. Cristaney. I was born there."

Unlike Garnette, relations between Cristaney and Rosailles had always been mostly pleasant; a memory of an old alliance between warrior Queens that had been wrought during the trials of the Great Wars.

Though her revelation only created more questions, I kept them to myself. "I heard it is beautiful there?"

Sabine's lips curved in a small smile as she looked out the window. "It is. Much warmer than Rosailles. At least it was in my hometown. Sometimes it would rain and storms would roll in off the south sea for a few months, but most of what I remember is the bright, beaming sunlight. I was only a child then. I've spent most of my life in Rosailles, watched over by Our Great Mother."

My gaze dropped to her pin. Though the Goddess was still worshiped in Rosailles, along with the three eyed Matron called upon by some communities in the northern provinces, most people in the capital spoke to the Great Queen Mother and her Angels.

 I considered Sabine, finding myself curious about how she came to be the woman that she was. Did she have a family back in Verenice that would miss her? How long had she been working at the palace?

"That must have been hard. To leave so young."

The smile slipped from Sabine's lips, her gaze dark and penetrating as it met mine. I couldn't help but blush and look away. I was so used to people not meeting my gaze, it felt more intimate than Sabine likely intended.

"True, but it is even harder leaving Rosailles now. I know it better than I knew Cristaney."

I glanced again at her pin. It was easy enough to figure out why she was leaving. Rosailles might have been home of the Angels, but orders from the Queen were seen as orders from the Angels themselves.

I bowed my head a fraction. "As the Angels wish."

"The Angels always know best," she replied, a slight edge slipping into her voice as if perhaps she didn't believe what she was saying. I studied her a moment, but her expression was impassive.

 I furrowed my brow, returning my gaze to the window and watching as the mountains swallowed us whole.

#

I was standing at the center of the world. The tall peaks of the Golden Mountains glimmered in the waning sunlight, rising high around me. In Roche, Garnette's capital, sundown was often before dinner this time of year.

This pass was the only way into the two other landlocked nations of Magierre, the thick mountain ranges bordering Rosailles and Garnette, with Cristaney to the south. Then there was the island of Perle, which sat off the coast between Cristaney and Garnette, just beyond the mountains.

The chilly bite to the northern air penetrated my thick coat, my breath creating a cloud of mist around me. I tore my gaze away from the mountains as a sleek black carriage approached.

It was a sleek ebony, with red and gold trimmed edges swirling over the wood. The horses pulling it had sleek black manes and tuffs around their feet, standing nearly a foot taller than my Roserian bred horses.

The carriage pulled to a stop, an assemblage of the Prince's guards on both horse and foot gathering across from us. Their uniforms were a contrast to the bright colors of home. Simple black jackets lined with gold embroidery, complemented by small details in scarlet; a homage to the garnet stone that inspired the country's name.

After they arranged themselves, a footman opened the carriage door.

I had imagined meeting Prince Jourdon many times before. With so many people watching, I always expected it to be awkward. Polite, yet reserved. I had also pictured him in many ways. Likely dark of hair and olive skin like Governess Bernadette. And since I  knew Jourdon had a military background, having gone away for his training for several years I always pictured him wearing military attire.

A man stepped out of the carriage, waving off the foot man. He squinted out into the sunlight, dark brown eyes narrowed behind gold-rimmed spectacles. He traipsed down the steps settling on the ground and peered over at me. His clothes were in complete disarray. He was without a cravat, his chest peeking out the top of his shirt. His overcoat was unbuttoned, his breeches slightly loose on his long legs. Golden waves hair fell over olive skin, which he flipped out of his eyes.

He pushed up his spectacles as he approached. His boots were scuffed and muddy, and as he came closer, I spotted a smudge of ink on his fingertips.

For a moment I glanced at the footmen beside the carriage, waiting for them to gesture for someone else to step out of the carriage. Someone else more composed, more orderly. More like the man I had envisioned. Someone who looked more like a prince.

The door stayed empty, no movement coming from inside.

I blinked, trying to compose myself. The only thing about him that was even close to the image in my head was his build. Tall and broad, he was built like a soldier. As he came closer, I noticed a scar striking through one eyebrow, the old wound narrowly missing his eye. His nose was slightly crooked, like he had taken a few hits to the face. He stopped in front of me. We were silent as we regarded each other.

He tilted his head, looking me from head to foot, them back again. He pursed his lips, his gaze finally settling on my hair, taking in its vivid red. A flicker of disgust curled his lip then it was gone. My cheeks flamed, my stomach sinking.

I should have expected this. I should have known Jourdon would detest me. He was a soldier. And Garnetti soldiers were trained to fight only one thing.

Roserians. The Angels.

Me.

"Just like the portrait," he said by way of greeting. But the way eh said it, it came out more like an insult. Flushed with embarrassment, the gazes of everyone watching burning a daggers into my back, I curtsied.

"Your Highness, I am—"

Jourdon waved a hand to cut me off. "No need for all that. We know exactly who we both are. Let us get a move on. I have some business back in Roche that needs my attention." He paused as if just then remembering his manners. He cleared his throat. "But, pleasant to meet you, Princess Ophelia." He glanced back at my cavalry. The skin around his eyes tightened. "Are they all joining us?"

My lips parted. I had imagined this going many different ways. But never like this. I watched Jourdon regard each one of my Roserian soldiers with narrowed precision. Like he was seizing each one up...something sharp and analytical playing in his mind.

Like at any moment he might draw a weapon. His hand flexed at his side, feeling for a sword that wasn't there. I swallowed thickly, clenching my fists. They were slick with cold sweat as I tried to hide away my unease.

"No," I replied stiffly. "Only about half are the guards coming with me."

Only now that felt like far too few.

Prince Jourdon nodded, the almost excited spark in his gaze fading to boredom. He clenched then unclenched his fist at his side again. "Well, no point in lazing about then. Get your affairs in order, I'll see you back at the palace. It is only a day's journey from here."

That was it? No apology for his tardiness? No invite to share a carriage and acquaint ourselves? I sucked in a deep breath and pursed my lips. This was already going terribly. If Jourdon was going to be...as he was, then it was up to me to try and salvage what I could. I needed to correct this, and fast. Even if this was going to be much harder than I ever imagined.

"Perhaps we should take some time to get to know each other?" I kept my voice steady and light. "Shall we share a carriage on the way to Roche?"

Jourdon paused, turning back to me. He studied me, a small frown tugging at his lips. He seemed caught off guard by the suggestion, his gaze lingering on me with confusion.  As if I too had disrupted his expectation of how this meeting would go.

"If you would like," he said, after a long, torturous moment. He turned back to his carriage. "We can share mine."

I tried to smile and I caught one of my soldier's gazes. Darren. He stood stony and straight, his face reflecting everything I felt. He had noticed how Jourdon was regarding me. Like I was more assassin than a future wife.

He lifted a brow, his frown telling me all I needed to know about what he thought of Jourdon's behaviour. I tilted my head towards Jourdon's carriage and Darren gave a stern nod. He would ride alongside the carriage while I rode with Jourdon.

When we got to the carriage, Jourdon didn't wait for me to go in first. I didn't show it, but on the inside my heart sank more and more. Jourdon didn't appear to have any interest in this marriage. In me.

No, he like most of Garnette, still saw me as an enemy.

The Angels only knew how I would manage to convince him otherwise.

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Hi everyone! Thank you so much if you have read this far. What do you think of Jourdon? Is there more to him than meets the eye, or have you already written him off based on your first impression?

Please remember to vote and comment to let me know you are enjoying the story! I will probably post another chapter today so keep an eye on this space.

-Kat, x