I still remember waking in bed, finding him sitting by the window, reading one of my mother’s old saucy romance novels. When he first showed up, it was the dead of night. I pulled one of my mother’s old swords out from under the bed to confront him. He knocked it out of my hands inseconds.
A sword isn’t a weapon of warning, he said.If you aren’t willing to use it, you may as well put it down.
I guess that’s exactly what I did.
We’ve been silent since we sat down, but it’s giving me too much time to think, too many opportunities for doubts to form. He even left a few feet of space between us, which is somehow surprising. A cool wind blows through the trees, stirring up dust in the road and making Alek swear when dry leaves skitter across our blanket. I turn my head to look at him, and again, I’m struck by all the red. Like a flag of warning.
Though bizarrely, Alek might be the only person who’s been completely earnest about every word he’s said since the very moment I met him.
“I thoughtyoumight be disappointed in me,” I say quietly.
“Disappointed! Why?”
“Because you kept challenging me to be a better fighter.”
He scoffs. “No, I was challenging you to stand up to her. Verin only looks for solutions at the end of a sword. You’re a bit more savvy.”
It’s my turn to scoff. “I’m not savvy.”
He laughs. “Is this the same girl who faced me with a pitchfork in her barn? The same girl who drew a knife? The same girl who grabbed her mother’s sword—”
I grimace. “All of these arguments are makingmesound like the violent one.”
He looks at me, and his laughter settles into a thoughtful smile. “The same girl who still doesn’t quite trust me?”
That makes me flush—because he’s not wrong about that. “I don’t think I trust anyone, Alek.”
“Like I said.” He reaches out to brush a tendril of hair from my eyes, but his hand doesn’t linger. “Savvy.”
The blush on my cheeks refuses to fade.
He studies me, his gaze turning a little more assessing. “And I’m glad to have you by my side for these visits. I still haven’t been able to determine who was willing to risk thequeento get at the king.” He pauses, then shrugs. “Or maybe it doesn’t matter now, if Lia Mara is willing to hear us.”
Despite the shrug, he’s frowning, and I can tell that this bothers him. “You’re worried.”
He hesitates, and I realize that he’s savvy, too. We both keep delicately dancing around howmuchwe trust each other. But then he nods. “I am. I feel as though I was used before. I don’t want to be used again.”
This is striking. I hadn’t considered that from his perspective—and maybe it’s because I always assumed he was lying about somuchof it.
But if he’s been telling the truth all along, then he was betrayed, too.
The frown hasn’t left his face. “Lord Tycho tried to point all the blame at me. It’s taken some time to recover my reputation. That’s part of the reason we’ve done so many visits.” He scowls. “I’ve been nothing but loyal, yet I need to prove myself again and again.”
I reach out and put a hand over his. “From what I’ve seen, no one questions your loyalty.”
He snorts. “Some of that is becauseyouare with me. I know the queen is sending you for her own reasons, but I’ll admit that it doesn’t hurt mine.”
I wonder if the queen knows that. I wonder if this is part of it.
“Do you still think someone would try to hurther?” I say.
“I don’t know.” He finally looks up from where my hand is resting on his. “But the king’s magic is what makes her a target. Removing him from Syhl Shallow protects us all.”
Is he right? I think the queen would agree with him.
I just don’t know ifIagree with him. The king’s magic has done a lot toprotectthe queen as well. Even in the attack on the palace from the very beginning.
The wind pulls another tendril of hair across my face, and Alek reaches up to push it out of my eyes again. This time, his fingers drift across my cheek, slowly tucking the loose hair behind the shell of my ear.
