“Jax.” Tycho draws a sharp breath. “Don’t youdare.”
I look at him in surprise, and now it’s his turn to look abashed.
A flush findshischeeks this time. “I mean . . . ?do as you like, of course.”
He’s slowly killing me. The most primal part of my brain doesn’t care what our roles are. We have a week’s worth of tiny touches and secret glances between us, and despite the fact that I can still feel that hum of tension radiating from him—to say nothing of the fact that I literallyjustconvinced myself that he might be restricted to simple friendship—I also want to grab hold of his vest, press close, and remind myself of the taste of his skin.
Then I realize what he said.I would’ve been earlier, but Prince Rhen wanted to speak to me.
With my next step, I very deliberately put a few inches of distance between us, and I keep my eyes fixed on the path.
I don’t think it’s noticeable, but Tycho lets out a sigh. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“It’s all right,” I say, and I mean it. I allow another few inches of distance, just for good measure. “I know who you are,” I add. “I knowwherewe are. I won’t complicate things for you.”
“That’s not—”
“It’s fine!” I insist. “I know I’m a commoner.”
“Would you shut up? That has nothing—”
“Tycho.” I catch myself. “My lord. If Prince Rhen has ordered you to keep your distance because of political maneuvering—”
“Jax!Prince Rhen has ordered me toleave.”
The words hit me like a fist to the gut.
It seems like they’ve hit him equally hard, because his breathing is a little quick, and he’s stopped short on the path.
“Tomorrow,” he adds, and it’s another strike I’m not ready for.
I turn to face him. “Why?” I say darkly.
“Because of the scravers. If we were attacked by a magical creature seeking a magesmith, the king needs to know. As soon as possible.”
I’m staring at him as if the words don’t make sense, but they do. I hate it, but they do.
This shouldn’t even be a surprise. I should have figured it out myself. I literally just said it to him.
I know who you are.
He’s the King’s Courier. It’s his job to bring confidential news to the king. It’s his duty to risk his life for the royal family.
I turn and start walking again. I don’t even know what to say.
Tycho falls into step beside me. Maybe he doesn’t know what to say either, because he’s equally silent. For a while, the only sound is my crutches against the cobblestones, and it reminds me of the moments after we argued this morning, when anger hung in the air, but his loyalty was clear.
As soon as I have the thought, I wonder if this is why he came early. He came to tell me his orders, and as soon as we get back to the Shield House, he’ll take his leave. He’ll climb on Mercy tomorrow morning, and it’ll be . . . ?what? Weeks or months before I see him again?
And I’ll be stuck in a place where I can’t speak the language and half the people hate me.
No wonder he was so emphatic about discretion.
I was so foolish. I knew his role. Iknewit.
So I give him a nod. “Thank you for informing me of your duties, my lord. You don’t need to trouble yourself with showing me the grounds. I can make it back to the Shield House on my own.”
I only make it one step before he catches my arm, and there’s absolutely no give in his grip. I’m ready to smack his hand away, but then I make the mistake of looking up to find his eyes.
