The Princess's Guard ✔️

43

Word Count: 1871

~Kiva

I nestle further into the corner of the cabin, feeling the jolts and bumps as we move along.

I'm out of the rebellion compound, which is a miracle. Ark rose me before sunrise, telling me he wanted me to accompany him to an undisclosed location. I didn't protest because being out of that prison based place means a chance to escape.

"I can't believe this," I mumble, staring out the window.

The cold frost I know so well in my Territory has melted away with the hours we have been travelling. We have ventured into new lands, where the trees are sparser and the fields stretch for miles.

"I figured you would feel safer with me than alone in that compound," he notes, speaking to me for the first time since we left this morning.

A vibrant sunrise has melted away into a moody, cloudy day. Rain threatens to fall the further we go, which is beneficial for me. If I run, my tracks won't last and the visibility will be low.

Since we left I've been storing beneficial information. Not once has my eyes left the road we pass along.

We are far from home. But I'll make it back.

"Safer with you? That's presumptuous." I laugh bitterly under my breath.

With how much I've been concentrating on the outside world, I haven't had to look at Ark. It makes it easier. Studying every turn we make has meant I haven't had to meet those dark, thoughtful eyes that I know are watching me intently.

"Where are we going anyway?"

"I have to deliver something personally to my mother," he tells me.

My eyes widen, sweeping my attention back to him. Mother? I didn't even know Ark had a mother, or any kind of family. Then again, I don't know much about him at all.

"She lives all the way out here?" I ask breathlessly.

From what I know, out here is farming country and some isolated villages. Ark looks solemn, closed off. Coming back here isn't something he enjoys doing, clearly.

And I want to know why.

"I grew up out here. She hasn't moved since..." He breaks, rubbing the back of his neck with a gloved hand.

I raise my brows curiously. "Since?"

He's silent for a moment, staring out the window with furrowed brows. I can't tell if he's not divulging anything because he doesn't trust me, or because saying so is too difficult to bear.

"Come. We have arrived," he mutters.

The transport draws to a halt. Looking out the window, I realise I was too transfixed by my conversation with Ark to notice we had driven down an old dirt road and to a loan house seated in the middle of a paddock.

Ark hops out first, not waiting for me to follow.

When I step out into the grass, I turn around. There is no civilisation within view across the flat plains. If I ran now, Ark would have a clear view of me for miles, and I wouldn't be able to outrun him.

Gritting my teeth, I start off toward Ark, who is already opening the front door to the home.

Am I about to meet Ark's mother?

The house is small and simple. It's evident from the number of furnishings, portraits on the wall and general clutter that this is a well lived in house that has been here for quite a long time.