Ever the Hunted (Clash of Kingdoms #1)(21)

I want to hide my face in my hands, but I force myself to hold his gaze. “I was caught with poached meat and the captain was going to hang me. Lord Jamis proposed a trade. My life for yours.”

Cohen’s face pales. His hand clenches on the bowl of porridge. He stares at me hard, saying nothing for an uncomfortably long stretch of time. “Good,” he finally snaps. “I would’ve done the same.”

I recoil, feeling as though he’s smacked me. The strangest part about his comment is it registers in my gut with a mix of warmth and cold sensations. Truth and falsehood. What does that mean?

Cohen stands and walks toward the door.

“Where are you going?” He wouldn’t leave me here, would he? He took off before and never returned.

“To the kitchen.” He gestures to the bowl.

I push myself off the floor. “I traded my life for yours. I confessed that I could sense when someone’s telling the truth. Have you nothing more to say?”

“Your explanation is all I wanted.”

Perhaps he doesn’t believe me. Perhaps he’s too angry with me to care. “Cohen, I’m sorry I kept my secret from you.” The apology rushes out.

He gives me a sad sort of smile. “We all have our secrets, Britt.”



Cohen returns to the room with two more bowls of breakfast.

“If I promise this isn’t poisoned, you have to promise not to stab me in my sleep.”

My lips flatten into an amused line.

It takes only moments to devour everything in the bowl. I’m going to need my strength. I’ll never turn Cohen in now. There’ll be no reprieve for me until I find the real killer and bring him before the high lord. Captain Omar wouldn’t allow anything less. And if I cannot produce my father’s murderer in exchange for my life, then the captain will have me strung up.

Setting the empty bowl on my lap, I turn to Cohen. “I have a plan.”

“Do you, now?” Cohen stands across the room with a half smirk on his face, his earlier anger gone. “I hope it involves trekking west, since you’re coming with me to Shaerdan.”

“Er, no. Heading into a country that’s going to war with ours doesn’t sound like a plan. More like suicide. I’m not going to run. I’m going to find Papa’s murderer.”

His lips quirk. “You’ve been tracking me from Brentyn to here. Where did you think I was headed?”

“I thought you were dodging the guards.” As soon as I’ve spoken, I want to retract the words. He clearly wasn’t solely evading them. I should’ve figured as much earlier when his path was too direct. The clergyman mentioned a woman named Enat. “You’re already tracking the murderer.”

The corner of his mouth turns up more in approval. “There’s the Britta I know.”

Guilt sneaks up and kicks me in the lungs, stealing my breath. I shouldn’t have doubted his loyalty.

“Is Enat the murderer?” I ask.

He crosses the room and sits down beside me on the bed. “Possibly,” he says. “Though I don’t think so.” Cohen explains that he’s been following leads to figure out who wanted my father dead. Most people have been tight-lipped. But he has informants listening in on tavern talk who report to him.

“That explains the cleared path and partial shoe print,” I say, realizing he must’ve met with an informant in the woods before changing directions and heading north.

He seems surprised and then pleased. “You always were an excellent tracker. Knew you’d catch me, Dove.”

The familiarity of his comment propels me up and off the mattress in need of space to breathe without him nearby. The rush of old emotions is suffocating. He opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything, though I’m sure I look rabid for how crazed I suddenly feel.

“I should get going,” I tell him.

The only man who has a chance of tracking Cohen or me is the captain. By splitting up, we would make it impossible for the captain to find us both. Together, we’re two halves of a massive target.

“You mean we,” Cohen says in that arrogant way I’ve not missed at all.

I shoot him a withering look. “No. I’m certain I spoke correctly when I said I.”

“You have a lot of I’s there.” He teases as his eyes follow my movement to the door.

“Exactly. So you won’t be confused when I leave.”

He crosses the room in three steps, setting his bowl beside mine on the bed and moving between the door and me. “As it stands, I have more information than you. Your best bet is me. You go with me.”

That deserves an eye roll. “You haven’t changed a bit. Still pushy and overbearing.”

He gives me a tilted smile that does whispery things through every bit of me.

Even if he’s arrogant, he’s right. “What information do you have?”

“We need to head to the coast of Shaerdan. To Celize.”

Oh. Cohen really is going to cross the border, which means going with him will make us both traitors. I’ve lived my life resenting my mother’s choice. Could I really willingly become a traitor? The thought sickens me.

“Why Celize?”

The corners of his mouth tip down, as if he’s confused about my question. “Saul was killed in a tavern there.”