“I can’t watch the fawning,” she whispers, and for the first time, I think I hearhervoice crack. “It makes me remember Wyatt. Maybe that makes me weak.”
I reach out and squeeze her hand. “I can’t watch it either. Maybe we canboththrow up on him today.”
That startles a giggle out of her, and we share a more devious glance this time.
Eventually, the hoofbeats stop behind us, and a man clears his throat, and we have to turn around.
On horseback, Rian seems ten feet tall, especially backed by guards. They all block the sun and throw shadows over us both.He must have given the boy back to his parents because he’s alone on the horse now.
“Oh, hello,” I say. “I couldn’t see you past your admirers.”
“Hello, Miss Cade. I’ve been all over the island looking for you.” He doesn’t smile. His eyes flick to Olive. “Livvy. You’ve finally decided to leave your house?”
“I finally had a reason to,” she says. Her voice is as cool as mine—and his.
“I was surprised to find my nephew with the guardsman from Kandala.”
“Oh, he’s your nephew now?” she says. She presses a finger to her lips. “I’m not sure Ellmo even remembers who you are.”
“That’s not my fault,” he says.
I realize this is going to dissolve into family drama, and he didn’t tell me why he was looking for me. “Why have you been all over the island?” I say.
That snaps his attention back. “Because you weren’t at home.”
“I told you what I was going to do with the supplies you gave me.”
He hesitates, and a little frown line appears between his eyebrows. In that flicker of time, I realize he didn’t really expect me to help anyone at all.
Before he says anything, I fold my arms. “You like to think you’re better than Corrick,” I hiss, “but deep down, you’re so much worse.”
That hits him like a dagger, because thunderclouds roll through his eyes. “Do you really think so?”
“Calculating? Cynical? Manipulative?” I look at Olive. “Have I forgotten anything?”
She snorts. “Hypocritical?”
His eyes narrow. “Maybe I shouldn’t have bothered coming to find you at all.” He glances past us at the supplies we’ve obviously been using, at the people who are still dispersing. Some of the tension slips out of his expression. “But I am grateful for what you’re doing. I don’t mean to be cynical. You surprised me, that’s all. I know how much you hate me.” He hesitates, his eyes flicking to Olive. “Both of you.”
Olive sighs and turns back to what she was doing. “What I think about you doesn’t affect how I feel about the people of Ostriary.”
“I know,” he says, and he sounds genuine. “Which is why I’m grateful.”
Those words hang in the air for a little while, until she finally turns and looks at him.
There is nothing friendly in her expression.
I want to reach out and squeeze her hand again, but it might be too much. I peer up at Rian. “You still haven’t saidwhyyou were looking for me.”
“I’ve received an interesting series of letters from the harbor-master in Silvesse.” He hesitates. “It indicates that my uncle still believes his daughter is alive and I’m holding her prisoner. He’s planning a rescue. If we could trick him into thinking we’re holding her away from the palace, it could be an opportunity to trap him for good.”
His uncle.
Oren Crane.
My heart pounds again. “Why are you telling me this?” I say. “What does it have to do with me?”
He looks back at me steadily, and he pulls a folded piece of parchment from his saddlebag. His hand grips it tight.
