So Evie's magic twig worked surprisingly well.

We raced through the country and by the time the horses needed to stop again, it was time for Evie and I to eat.

"There's probably an inn somewhere around here." I looked down and across the dusty path to a vibrant village. In my head I figured out that it might've been Drenion, maybe Chiln or Nilmer. If that was so then we might be at the border by tomorrow morning. "We should ride down and ask for directions."

"No." Evie spoke confidently. "You're still a fugitive. Anyways we have everything we need. We'll go off road to those trees." She steered her horse around towards them. The horse was called Marigold - I'd finally thought to ask her.

When we got to the three tall trees between the bushes, I jumped off and went over to help Evie down.

"You don't have to help me get down every time you know." She scowled fondly, taking my hands back from her waist.

I smirked. "Go on then. You're too short to manage by yourself." And so I watched her awkwardly try to lift one leg over. Her hands lifted gingerly from the reins. She was going to fall.

The next moment Evie was in my arms, rolling her eyes at me.

"You should've let me do it myself." She huffed, keeping her hand on my shoulder nonetheless.

"You would've fallen." I explained, gazing down into her gold flecked eyes. My chest screamed, I ignored it. "I want to let you be independent, and strong, and the scary woman I fell in love with, but I'm always going to catch you before you fall."

Evie smiled warmly, her free hand reaching up to readjust my hair. "God, Gan, stop trying to get into my pants." She drawled, making me laugh loudly. I put her on her feet but pulled her back into my chest. Once I'd released her she went over to sit in the shade of the trees. I took the horses and tied them to a branch, taking the heavy saddle bags from their backs.

We made a pile of the bags and weapons and spread Evie's father's old coat out on the ground. She took one of the bags and opened it up, pulling out bread and cheese wrapped in white cloth. She gave me a knife whilst looking further into the bags for the flasks.

"I miss wine." I scowled at the meagre food before us. "I miss good, cooked food. Ices, fish."

"You're not in Beltrain anymore, your Highness." Evie sighed, sharing a small smile with me.

"I'm not 'your Highness' anymore either." I scowled harder and she thwacked my shoulder with the back of her hand. "Less than a month ago I was the crown Prince, everything imaginable at my disposal. I had friends, family, food, a home. A name."

Evie chewed her bread before me. "Shit happens." She spoke bluntly, sympathy in her eyes. "At least you're not dead."

I nodded at that. At least I wasn't dead.

Once we and the horses had consumed the bare minimum, we set off again. The countryside was gorgeous, though it felt so strange to be making this passage without my men behind me, only a girl.

We slept in an old barn that night. She had even managed to pack mostly fresh clothes for the next morning. My soul ached for the stuffy tents and dying fires and alcohol of the 47th with every new road we passed. The sky was a clear blue and the sun beat down mercilessly. I wondered how my brother was, Afanasy the king, Afanasy the husband. How would he deal with it if Definis rebelled again? How had he organised father's funeral?

"Gavrila." Evie snapped, pulling me to attention. I slowly turned to face her, having to force myself out of my mind to do so.

"Yes?" My voice sounded heavy, it was hard to form the word.

"I've been calling your name for ages, you might be dehydrated." She spoke sternly, her face blurry against the blue sky. "Drink something."

I took the flask from Saffron's bag and sipped at it. The water was warm. It clung to my throat as it went down.

"Gavrila look at that." Evie pointed down to the ground, her face clear now, it was excited. She was excited.

I followed her pointing finger to a large grey stone between a break in the bushes.

Berelyia

Berelyia. Baracosia, in Baracosian.

Evie grinned at me. "Is that -"

"we're here!" I exclaimed, laughing to myself. "Finally."

Saffron crossed the border.

"How long do you think it'll be before we get to the capital, or wherever the palace is?" She asked, stretching her back as our horses walked side by side.

Closing my eyes, I brought up the virtual map of Baracosia in my mind. We were at its Western border and the government was controlled from Raverly, in the south-west. "A day if we work hard. So how do we make sure the king gets out of the picture? As soon as we're in the court, all suspicion will be turned towards us if he dies."

Evie winked, "I've already planned that. We'll find a base as close to the palace as possible, then I'll find a way in." She grinned, searching for my approval.

"Well then what? How are you going to get close to him? How are you going to get out before they find you?"

"Well I don't know yet, I'll have to see what works when I get there."

I bit my lower lip hard to stop myself from spewing something unkind. "Did you think this out at all?"

"Well my plan is better than just wallowing in Oldcliff!"

"Why did I agree to this?" I exploded, frustrated and alone. "It'll never work!"

Evie glanced at me pleadingly. "Give it a chance. It might work. Even if it doesn't it'll make a-"

"I am a fugitive in my own home." I yelled, surprising even myself. "My brother wants me dead. They say I tried to kill a king. Now you're asking me to kill another king, except this time I actually have to make sure he stops breathing."

"I'm not asking you to kill him." She matched my tone. "I'm saying I will. You're a prince seeking protection and I'm some unknown assassin who'll disappear into thin bloody air. Then you get Henrietta on your side and you take back your crown."

"You've never killed anyone." I spat. "You won't have the stomach for it. Not when it comes down to it. Then I'm going to have to watch you die, then I'm going to die, on foreign soil. Not in glory with my men around me, not after a long, successful reign with our children around me, but alone. With your severed head by my feet on cold, hard concrete. How do you think I can stand that?"

I rode on ahead, leaving her in my wake.