Just the memory of her being in pain made his gut clench.
Amryn’s eyes softened. She rose and crossed toward him, her light blue dress skimming the floor as she walked. Her sea green eyes were fixed on him, and he struggled to keep his emotions from rioting as she drew near. Her gentle scent of citrus and mint surrounded him, and he breathed in deeply.
“It’s just a meeting,” she said, her tone soothing. “I’m introducing Ivan and Samuel to Bram, and I’m learning what the rebels in the palace are planning. That’s all.”
Her words did little to calm him. His protective instincts hadn’t relaxed since they’d arrived at the palace, but ever since Bram had slipped a message to Amrynyesterday—telling her to meet him in the library this afternoon—he’d been grappling with the impulse to stop this entire thing. How was he supposed to just let her walk into a meeting with the Rising?
He knew he didn’t truly have a choice.
He released a heavy breath. “Stay close to Samuel and Ivan.”
“I will.” She didn’t even tease him about his request. Which probably meant she could feel his anxiety. She reached out, twining her fingers with his. “I’m wearing the dagger you gave me in Esperance,” she reminded him.
“Would you actually use it?”
She winced. “If I had to, yes.”
He hated that she’d feel any pain she managed to deliver. She needed a more effective way of defending herself. Especially if she kept insisting on putting herself in danger.
A knock on the door made him tense.
Amryn rolled up on her toes, pressing a kiss to his hard jaw. “Everything is going to be all right.”
He wished he shared her faith.
He followed her to the door but insisted on opening it himself.
Ivan stood on the other side, looking as intense as ever. He didn’t wait for an invitation, just stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He paused as he caught Carver’s hard stare.
“Nothing happens to her,” Carver told the Wolf. “Understood?”
He had no idea a grunt could convey such offense until Ivan did it now. “No one will touch her while she is under my protection.”
Amryn patted Carver’s chest, and heat shot through him at even that casual touch. “See? I’ll be perfectly safe.”
There was another knock on the door, announcing Samuel’s arrival. Saints, the prince of Wendahl looked nervous. He needed to be more convincing if he wasn’t going to give everything away in an instant. How had he ever fooled Carver at Esperance?
“Ready?” Samuel asked.
“Yes,” Amryn said. She spoke for the benefit of the two guards standing nearby as she added, “I’m excited to see those old manuscripts you mentioned.”
Ivan’s voice was even as he said, “I am as well.”
They didn’t know how many spies the Rising might have in place, so they needed a good reason to be seen together. Since their meeting with Bram would be in theback corner of the palace library, and Samuel had a reputation for being a scholar, this was the best excuse they’d been able to think of.
Samuel turned to lead the way.
“Good luck with Berron,” Amryn said softly.
More tension coiled inside Carver at the reminder. But he’d been putting this off, and this was as good a time as any to finally talk with his brother. If nothing else, it would keep him from shadowing his wife’s every step.
Which was probably why Amryn had encouraged him to seek out Berron now.
Still, it took everything in him to remain in place as he watched Amryn, Samuel, and Ivan walk away.
Yesterday, he’d confided his misgivings to Ford while they’d sparred. His friend had listened sympathetically before saying. “You’ve always struggled with this part.”
Carver had frowned. “What part?”
