Daughter of the Disgraced King Read Online Free Page A

the hills and around to the top of the highest peak of Far
Terra. The forest was so thick here that they had to ride single file much of
the way, which effectively prevented conversation. Below, it was mostly mixed
live oaks and a few sycamores. Up here, though, it was a pine forest and the
trees were in better shape than the woods below—closer to the desert.
    Ailsa watched Sav’s straight back and the way his hips moved
with the horse’s gait. Before, she’d never permitted herself to dwell on these
things. It did no good to think too much about what she could never have. Now
she was seeing him differently—his broad shoulders, how his neatly-trimmed hair
was as glossy and black as the horse he rode. Those things made her smile.
    But there was also the stiffness that never seemed to quite
leave his erect posture and how that kept him from really flowing with his
horse’s movements. Sav took everything so seriously. That stiffness was usually
reserved for everyone else, not her. It reminded her of how white his knuckles
had been, gripping his own knees, when he’d sprung his proposal on her last
night. For better or worse, their relationship had shifted last night. Ailsa
swallowed down a lump in her throat. Her answer was going to be hard on Sav. He’d
probably be hurt that she wasn’t ready to just say yes. She hated that. She simply
couldn’t see any other way forward. Not one that she wouldn’t regret later,
anyway. And if she did, he’d regret it too, eventually. No. Leaping in wouldn’t
be good for either of them in the long run.
    They came out on the viewpoint, an outcrop of granite just
below the peak. She drew in a deep breath, memorizing the scent of Far Terra.
The air smelled of the pines that surrounded her, not the arid desert from
which this forest had been wrested. Ailsa moved to stand at the edge and took
it all in. From here it was possible to see a large chunk of Far Terra spread
out below them. The dark green of the forests on the slopes of the hills, the
brighter green of the cropland surrounding the city, all encircled by the dead
tan of the desert. Farther out, the blue-green circles of more land reclaimed
from the desert by sweat and magic, some of them connected to the city by narrow
ribbons of green. One wider belt of green stretched into the south, connecting Far
Terra with the rest of the Empire. Day after tomorrow, she’d be on her way
south along that corridor.
    This used to be one of Ailsa’s favorite spots because from
here it had been possible to actually see the gradual greening of the
desert. Until recently, at least. She hadn’t come up here in the last three
years, since the effects of King Ewart’s rift with the mages had become
apparent. She’d been right to be afraid of what she’d see. From where she
stood, she could make out a yellowed rim around the green cropland and far too
many brown spots of dead trees on the lower slopes. Even the green ribbons that
had connected the outposts of progress against the desert showed gaps. Ailsa’s
stomach twisted and she swallowed down bile. After five generations, Far Terra
was failing because of mismanagement by an incompetent king.
    Ailsa balled her fists. She could forgive King Ewart for his
insecurities. He’d never been raised or trained to be a king, as Papa often
reminded her. She could even forgive his almost paranoid distrust of her father
and the way his suspicions had impacted her family. She’d never forgive him for
the harm he’d done to Far Terra. Could she really see that man as her father-in-law?
    Ailsa shook her head. Sweat wasn’t enough. Far Terra needed
magic to succeed. In a short time, she’d know whether she had the potential to
try to repair the damage. There was no way she could turn her back on that
possibility without at least knowing what she could do to help. She let her breath
out in a long sigh. “I used to love this place.”
    “I know,” Sav said.
    Ailsa slowly turned away from the view to