“I understand why you don’t want me along, but I am going. That is the decision I have made. You can work with that or you can tell me you won’t, and then we can have a different conversation.”
Ander’s lips twitched. Fear glared at him, and Ander did not look sorry.
Fear looked at me for a long moment.
He held my gaze for another beat. Then he looked at Ander, with an expression that I had come to understand was a closed door, and said, “I need to speak with you.”
Ander’s mouth curved, very slightly. “I expected you would.”
Ander turned toward the other side of the corridor, his sword canted across one broad shoulder and the tapered shape of his waist. “Are you two coming?”
“I’d speak to you in private.” Fear’s gaze was still on me, even though he spoke to Ander.
“Given that you need favors from me, you’ll speak to me in front of Cara.”
I was beginning to like Ander, altogether too well.
Ten
Fear
Ander’s private rooms were the kind of austere that required deliberate effort. He had made choices: no ornamentation, no softness, the furniture only just sufficient. I wasn’t sure where he made his home, but it was not here. A table, four chairs, a window that faced the sea.
A sword rack with a ridiculous number of blades, as if he didn’t always carry the same sword. His father’s, taken from the ashes and polished faithfully since we found it.
It had been a long time since I’d been in Ander’s private spaces. Cara sat down as if she were comfortable here, and it grated at me more than I had expected. I remained standing.
“I thought you would be an ally to me in keeping Cara here. Safe.”
There was an uncharitable part of me that wondered if he did not mind seeing Cara in danger when he had lost Tesa.
He waved the thought away. “I am an ally to Cara. Not to you.”
Arrogant prick.
“I like him,”Shadowbane interjected.
“That’s new.”And grating.
“I’m not eager to play any role in any plan of yours,” Ander said. “You’re asking many favors of me for someone I despise.”
“I’m aware.”
“Good. Then we’re starting honestly for once.” He looked at Cara once, briefly, and then back at me. “Tell me what you’re doing and what you need.”
I did not grit my teeth, but it was an effort. Gods, did he love to ferret out my plans; he should spend the same energy on making his own. Point to him for this round, though: I gave him the shape of things as concisely as I could.
“And what is your excuse for disappearing from the Trials?”
I already had the beginnings of a plan. I had a great mask-worker and would assign someone from Bismyth to beme, as long as no one got close; he would have to stay in my private home for a few days, which would not be a hardship.
“I’m sure you have some brilliant idea, Ander.”
“I do.” He seemed immune to sarcasm. He always had been. “If you disappear, the queen will know you’re the thief. She always suspects you when her plots are foiled.”
I grinned without humor in it. “Thank you.”
“You can’t simply vanish. You need somewhere to go. Somewhere that explains why you’ve left and why you’ve left without Bismyth behind you. As if you were running away,” Ander finished, enjoying himself.
