Breaking Stars (Book 2) by Jenna Van Vleet Page B

strongest among us are those who have weathered the worst.”
    She held the goblet before him until he took it and perched it on the other armrest. Putting a hand on his shoulder, she brushed his hair off his forehead and put a kiss on it. “Do try and eat something. You need your strength.”
    He looked up for a moment to search her face. ‘Does she know? Does she know what Nolen has me doing?’ She smoothed his hair to the side and gave him a soft smile. Paying him a small bow she left him alone.
    He sat there for some time before lifting the drink and taking a draught. It was sweet to the tongue with a fruity finish. She left him only a goblet-full, so it was not enough to get drunk on, but this was not a wine to be downed. He sipped it slowly, watching the sunlight outside die and the fire grew brighter. It crackled loudly and sent aromas of sap and smoke into the air. The smells reminded him of the countless nights spent outside with Robyn, stoking a fire with his hands as she cooked, playing Tiles, and swapping stories. He was too numb from the loss that tears had not fallen since he saw her.
    The food beside him grew cold, and though his stomach twisted, he could not bring himself to sup. The Jaden gold was almost finished, and it slowly buzzed his head since he was dehydrated and void of food.
    Nolen burst through his door without knocking. Gabriel spilled the last swallow of wine over his chin. He brushed the sweet droplets off his chest and dangled the goblet by the rim over the armrest as Nolen strode up. Gabriel kept his eyes on the fire. It took him a moment to realize the Prince was not alone.
    He glanced up to see Lace, her large eyes wide, and her little lips pressed together. If she was here, it could only mean they were traveling somewhere. Since Gabriel had finally broken, Nolen could now begin his search for his sister and the Silex. Nolen had explained everything to him that morning, giving him strict instructions on how to behave during their travels.
    ‘Going somewhere?’ he willed himself to ask, but the words were not strong enough to reach his lips.
    “Gabriel, I am so sorry,” Lace whispered in her lilting Arconian language. He shifted his eyes to look at her worried expression. Nolen turned to glance down at her, and her face expertly smoothed to reveal nothing.
     
     
     
     
    Head Mage Casimir kept Nyanza tightly reigned, though the mare wanted to run despite the long miles she had already logged. Casimir was swathed in a high-necked wool blouse, underneath a long white coat with split tails, thick cotton trousers, and high riding boots. It was all in the purest of whites, bundled under his white Mage cloak.
    The air down in the valley was warmer than the mountains, but his skin grew thin with the years, and he enjoyed the soft wools that made younger men sweat. His back felt the miles as Nyanza plodded smoothly. While many Head Mages preferred to ride in a carriage, he felt he should be seen as one with his people, not shut inside a box.
    Secondhand Lael rode beside him on his black gelding Zaffre with its red points. Nyanza stood taller than the handsome black to make Casimir taller in the seat. It was the only time the Head Mage was taller than his Secondhand. Lael had an excellent seat and rode as a man who grew up on a horse farm, but no one would guess his humble birth by his intelligent eyes and educated tongue. His Mage cloak threw over his shoulders to reveal his dark red coat slashed with cords of brown to mimic abstract autumnal leaves. That was unbuttoned to his chest showing the cream doublet beneath. Lael had few pleasure to his name, but fine fashion was the most important.
    The Secondhand roved from group to group as they traveled. He was the voice of the Head Mage, answering questions or gleaning information, but he had returned a while ago without complaint. He sat straight in his saddle, methodically leading the courser around obstacles. Casimir swore he did it to show