Page 56 of The Shrouded Queen


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I mostly stuck to the border of the village and watched the Kaldfolk go about their lives. Women hung the wash on clotheslines, men swept wayward leaves out of their homes with brooms, children roughhoused. Smoke drifted up from chimneys, and despite the ever-present cold of this place, there was a warmth to the scene.

It all seemed very… normal. Pleasant, even.

I passed a brewery, where I spotted Bain. He dipped a finger into a vat of the milky white kefir and brought it to his lips. His chiseled face tightened with a hard cringe, and then a cough racked his lean form.

The brewer beside him, an elderly woman with snow-white hair and hands as large as plates, cackled and clapped him hard on the back.

I became hyperaware of Keir at my back. My mind could not help but think of the other night. The kefir he’d brought me. That small bit of kindness.

Neither of us had acknowledged that moment. Granted, therehad been far more pressing matters to deal with, but now all the questions that had crowded my mind rose up again.

When I turned around and met Keir’s glittering gold gaze, they tangled up on my tongue before I could voice any of them. His brows lifted in a question.

I blurted the first thing that came to mind: “I took a bath.”

He blinked. “Congratulations?”

The tips of my ears burned. “No, I… I know you said it wouldn’t help. With the smell. My smell. But… I tried…” My words trailed over a cliff and died, and I almost wished the Kaldfolk would go ahead and kill me.

Keir studied me in that piercing way of his. It took great effort not to let my eyes dart away. “Did you think that would hide your scent this morning?”

The burn in my ears spread to my cheeks. “I wasn’t trying to hide.”

“No?” Keir tilted his head in a poor imitation of innocent curiosity. “Then why didn’t I see you?”

“You didn’t look hard enough.”

He took a step closer, making me crane my head back to maintain eye contact. “Believe me, I did,” he said. Every inch of me became alert, some primal instinct warning me I was caught in the sights of a predator. My heart pounded in my ears. “What were you hoping to see, hm? Hedin being roasted up for a nice meal? Or maybe something more important you could use against us when you bring your Khada Guard back here?”

“No! No, I… I didn’t want to upset anyone. It was obviously a private event. I hadn’t even meant to be there. I saw Milena running into the woods and I followed her—”

“Milena,” he repeated.

“Yes.” When he just stared, I awkwardly added, “The girl from Netherridge?”

“You remember her name.”

I frowned. “It’s not a particularly difficult one.”

Keir’s nostrils flared. Scenting me. What he was looking for, I didn’t know. But I watched him draw a deep inhale and hold it, just like the night in my cabin. The longer he held it, the hotter my face felt. When he finally let it out, it caressed my cheeks.

“You know what I smell?” he asked quietly. The dangerous whisper of a leopard moving through grass. “Beneath the sadness and fear and attempted friendliness. Beneath…” He inhaled again. “Beneath everything else.”

“What?”

He leaned in so that his warmth tickled my skin and his sunny eyes branded themselves on the backs of my lids. “You smell like you’re hiding something, Majesty.”

My stomach plummeted. My blood, molten just seconds ago, turned to ice in my veins.

He hummed in approval when he scented the shift. “Tell me what it is now,” he murmured, “and I will show you mercy.”

Horror blared through every inch of me. I’d failed my queen. I didn’t know if it was one thing in particular or if I’d never stood a chance. What I did know was that a confession would not grant me mercy. The beast in front of me would take great joy in delivering my punishment.

“Come on, Majesty,” he coaxed, soft, seductive. “Secrets are so heavy, aren’t they?”

They were. I hated lying. But my queen needed this from me. The gods needed this from me, and I had let them all down—

Majesty. Keir had called me Majesty. Whatever he suspected, whatever he smelled, he didn’t know who I really was. Which meant I hadn’t failed. Not yet. Relief made my head feel light.