“Tycho!” He practically snarls the name. “If you get an opportunity, run him straight through.”
“He’s been very kind. To meandmy sister.” I hesitate. “And to Jax.”
“Oh, he’s beenkindto Jax? Is that what we’re calling it?”
My cheeks flush.
Alek’s voice turns contemplative. “Did he say anything of interest?”
“No. He’s very good at keeping secrets.” I remember the way Tycho said the king wasn’t speaking to him very much, and I wonder if I should share that. Our conversation felt so personal, so private, and hewasvery kind.
I can be good at keeping secrets, too.
“How did Verin take it?” Alek finally says.
“She wasn’t exactly in high spirits. She said I was powerless.” I sigh. “I know you hate Tycho, but at least he wasn’t trying to break me into pieces. I’m sure you think I should have kept training withher.”
“No,” he says, and his voice is oddly quiet. “Actually I was thinking that it was rather brave of you to face Nolla Verin in that way—especially in front of Lord Tycho.”
“It wasn’tbrave,” I choke out.
“She’s the queen’s sister. It absolutelywas.”
“The king told me that if I wanted to prove her wrong, I should keep showing up. Now she’s probably telling anyone who will listen that I’ma complete failure who doesn’t deserve a position in the palace.” The instant I say it, I flinch a little inside. Because I didn’t consider what Verin might say to my little sister whensheshows up for training.
But Alek scoffs. “You think she’s going to tell anyone that yourefusedto train with her? Her pride would never allow it.”
I stare at him. “Really?”
His eyes flash. “Absolutely.”
I roll that around in my head for a while, because I’m not sure what to do with it. I keep thinking of that moment I stood in front of Verin, when I realized that maybe all my expectations were ones I’d created for myself.
While I’m musing, a loudcrackemits from underneath the carriage, followed by a sudden tilt and sway—and then another, more jarring one. Outside, the carriage driver is shouting, “Whoa!” at the horses, and we rattle to a stop. The carriage is leaning crookedly, and it’s almost enough to make me fall off the bench.
My eyes snap to Alek’s in alarm, but he just sighs. “It sounds like a broken axle.”
A footman tugs at the door, but it seems to be stuck. Alek gives it a shove from the inside, and we climb out.
We’re a fair distance outside the main part of the city, and the sun is shining down. The road is lined on both sides with trees, and the mountains backing the Crystal City seem distant, like we’re miles away. I don’t see any travelers coming or going. When I look at the carriage, I discover that the axle is indeed broken, with a large crack in the wheel, too. Alek’s footman and driver look at each other dubiously, then at him.
“I’m sorry, my lord,” says the driver. “The past rain has left the road a bit rutted.”
Alek sighs again, then runs a hand across his jaw. He looks from me, to them, to the two horses, considering.
“We could walk,” I offer.
Alek shakes his head. “We’re on the road to Spitnare. It’s almost six miles of nothing in either direction—and I’m not risking thieves.” He looks to his men. “Take the horses and ride back to the city. Filcher, hire a new carriage. Adim, find someone who can repair the axle.”
Filcher and Adim begin unhitching the horses, but I look at Alek. “And what willwebe doing?”
He’s unstrapping a trunk affixed to the back of the carriage, and his movements are sharp, annoyed.
“Waiting,” he says.
If there’s anything good about Alek’s House providing textiles, it’s that the trunk held several bolts of cloth. Alek spreads two of them along the grass, giving us a space to sit in the sunlight.
To my surprise, I realize this is the first time I’ve been completely alone with him since the night we spent together in Briarlock. No servants, no guards, nothing.
