Dust was still raining down from the shattered boulder when Ayisulu realized two things:
1. She could have died.
2. Prince Arslan was still holding her wrist like it was the only thing preventing him from dying.
"Ayisulu," he said, voice low and sharp, "look at me."
She did.
Mistake.
His eyes were intense—concern, anger, and something else all mixed together into a very inconvenient expression.
"You knew that rock would fall."
"I… had a feeling."
"Ayisulu," he said, "feelings don't make people shove princes out of the way exactly two seconds before they die."
She wanted to argue.
She also wanted to collapse.
Mostly she wanted him to stop staring at her like that.
Kereg ruined the moment by shouting:
"Prince! Movement on the ridge!"
Arslan finally let go of her wrist—reluctantly, she suspected—but not before muttering something like:
"We're discussing this later."
Fantastic.
Exactly what she wanted.
A scheduled interrogation.
---
The Ambush Begins (Badly)
The ridge above them exploded into motion. Shadows darted between rocks, weapons glinted, someone yelled something that sounded like an insult aimed at Arslan's ancestors.
Arslan's reaction was immediate and horrifyingly fearless.
He charged.
Just charged.
Straight toward armed attackers.
Like a man allergic to safety.
"Is he serious?" Ayisulu said.
Temir (who had somehow caught up) yelled, "YES, HE IS ALWAYS LIKE THIS!"
Kanykei groaned dramatically. "Why did fate give me a prince addicted to danger?"
"Why did fate give me a cousin addicted to following him?!" Temir snapped.
Ayisulu didn't have time to think.
She kicked her horse forward.
---
Arslan Doing Something Reckless (Again)
On the ridge, Arslan was already in the middle of fighting two attackers at once. He moved with terrifying efficiency—no wasted motion, no panic, just pure technical brilliance.
Ayisulu would have admired his skills if she weren't busy watching him almost get stabbed every five seconds.
One attacker swung wide—Arslan deflected him.
Another tried to tackle him—Arslan elbowed him in the ribs.
A third tripped on his own feet, probably intimidated by Arslan's eyebrows.
Ayisulu scanned the cliff and felt the dream flash in her mind—
A second boulder.
A man pushing it.
Arslan falling—
Her stomach dropped.
There.
On a ledge above.
"Ayisulu, don't—" Kanykei began.
Ayisulu did.
She sprinted uphill.
---
The World's Worst Plan (Ayisulu's Specialty)
The attacker above was busy prying a massive stone loose. Ayisulu did the only reasonable thing:
She grabbed his arm.
He snarled and shoved her back.
She slipped.
The edge of the cliff welcomed her like an eager host.
"Ayisulu!"
Arslan's voice cracked the air from below.
Not princely.
Not composed.
A human sound—panicked.
Great. Now she felt bad.
Her foot slid again—then someone tackled the attacker from behind.
Arslan.
Of course.
They both went tumbling in a very undignified fight that involved a lot of dust, grunting, and what might have been biting (she didn't judge; battle was messy).
Ayisulu tried to scramble back from the edge—
Her foot slipped again.
Fantastic.
She braced for the fall—
Arslan's arm wrapped around her waist and yanked her backward so fast she slammed into his chest.
"Ow—"
"Are you insane?!" Arslan snapped.
"Are you?!"
"You ran toward a man twice your size!"
"You ran toward a man with a knife!"
"That's different!"
"How?!"
"I have training!"
Ayisulu opened her mouth to retort, but realized she was still—very much—pressed against him.
His breath was in her hair.
His heartbeat thudded against her back.
His hand was still firmly around her waist.
Oh no.
The romantic tension was trying to assassinate her.
Arslan still hadn't released her.
"Ayisulu," he said, voice lower, "please do not run into ambushes without warning me."
"Why?" she breathed.
"Because I can't—"
Kereg cleared his throat loudly.
Arslan froze.
Ayisulu froze harder.
Kanykei rode up behind them, glaring like someone who had paid for a show but didn't enjoy the ending.
"Are we done rolling around in the dirt?" she asked sweetly.
Arslan immediately stepped back, clearing his throat and pretending he had not nearly had a heart attack.
Ayisulu pretended she hadn't almost melted.
Temir arrived last, gasping.
"I'm too young… for this kind of stress… Also, does anyone want bread? I packed bread."
---
Post-Ambush Debrief (aka Arslan Trying Not to Panic About Ayisulu)
Kereg dragged down one captured attacker.
Arslan regained his command tone.
Kanykei regained her irritation.
Temir regained his appetite.
But Arslan kept glancing at Ayisulu every few seconds.
Subtle glances.
Not prince-to-villager.
Not strategist-to-informant.
Someone-who-almost-lost-her-to-a-boulder glances.
"We need to question him," Arslan said, nodding at the attacker.
Kereg restrained the man. "He won't talk easily."
Ayisulu muttered, "Maybe he will if you threaten him with Temir's cooking."
"HEY!"
Kanykei snorted despite herself.
But Arslan didn't laugh.
He looked at Ayisulu again with that unreadable expression.
And said quietly, "When you grabbed my sleeve… never do that again."
Ayisulu stiffened. "I was trying to save your life."
"I know," he said, voice suddenly soft. "That's the problem."
She blinked.
"What?"
"If you keep doing that," he said, "I will start reacting before thinking. And that is how princes die."
Ayisulu stared at him.
He stared back.
Temir whispered to Kanykei, "Are they about to kiss or duel?"
"Hopefully duel," Kanykei muttered.
Arslan exhaled, rubbed a hand over his face, and stepped away before he did something reckless again.
But the last thing he said before walking off was:
"Ayisulu… don't leave my side."
Romantic?
Maybe.
Possessive?
Slightly.
Terrifying?
Absolutely.
Ayisulu sighed.
This was going to be a long journey.