“Who could know?” Mistel said.
“Madam Vinzen would,” Cole said, thinking of the old Magosian priestess who’d helped him catch an assassin. “Maybe Achan could send Trizo to ask her.”
When Cole had left Armonguard, Madam Vinzen’s son, Dewin Sessit, had finally awakened after having been stormed by Atul Shakran, the man who’d killed Mistel’s roommate and tried to assassinate the king and queen.
“I think she’d help us after all we did to help her.” Cole gave Bart one last swipe with the currycomb, knocked the hair from it, and put it away. “All done. Want me to walk you inside before I go?”
Mistel grabbed his hand and tugged. “I don’t want you to go at all. Stay and have some dinner.”
“We had lunch before we left, and I had several bites of Madam Raven’s fish soup.”
Mistel wrinkled her nose. “That smelled awful.”
“It wasn’t bad.”
She laced her fingers with his, and he liked how small and slender her hands were, even through both layers of their gloves.
“Tell me about that girl,” she said. “The one you wrote about in your song.”
Cole thought back to the songs he’d played most recently. “What girl?”
“I saw her,” Mistel sang, “at the fountain in front of the castle. She wore red. Had a flower in her hair.”
A shiver ran up Cole’s spine. “Oh. That girl.” Back in Armonguard, Mistel had once asked Cole to play her something he’d written. He’d sang the first verse of a song about a girl he’d known in Mitspah.
“You said she wasn’t who you thought she was,” Mistel prompted.
He couldn’t help but frown, wondering what had made Mistel think of such a thing. “Nya was the marshal’s daughter, back in Mitspah.” His lungs felt tight, like he wasn’t bringing in enough air.
Mistel rubbed her thumb on the back of his hand. “Tell me about her.”
Why would she ask that? “There’s not much to tell,” he said. “We weren’t a good match.”
“Why not?”
Because she’d been ashamed of him. “She ran ahead of me on everything. And she never asked permission.”
“What do you mean?”
He rolled his shoulder. “She made up stories. Once insisted I walk with her to a gathering at a house outside the stronghold. She introduced me by saying, ‘This is Master Harlen. Isn’t he dashing? He’s training to be a knight, will likely join Father’s men soon.’ Then all night she called me Master Harlen. I was completely bewildered. When I asked her about it, she laughed and said it was only a game.”
“How odd,” Mistel said.
Odd wasn’t the half of it, but Cole wasn’t about to admit the full truth about Nya. She’d insulted him. “You look ridiculous in those rags.” Forced him to wear her father’s clothing. “Here, put on this tunic.” Bossed him. “Stand straighter. No one will take you seriously if you slouch like a servant.” And perhaps worst of all, she’d complimented and berated him in the same sentence. “I picked you because you’re handsome. When you say such stupid things, you make me regret choosing you.”
“I don’t think she liked me at all. Just wanted someone to order around.”
“Was she pretty?”
“Yes,” Cole admitted.
Mistel huffed. “You’re supposed to say no.”
He chuckled, liking the way her lips twisted in that little pout. “She wasn’t nearly as pretty as you.”
“I should hope not.” Mistel tucked his hand behind her back, then reached around his neck. His pulse shot up at her nearness. “She sounds like a fool.”
“You think so?”
