The Kiss of Deception (The Remnant Chronicles, #1)(59)

The priest handed the book back to me. “Why would you need to know the language of a distant land?”

I looked at the book in my lap and ran my fingers over the soiled leather cover. I want what you stole. “Let’s just call it a multitude of curiosities.”

“Do you know of trouble?”

“Me? I know nothing. As I’m sure you’re well aware from your talks with Pauline, I’m a fugitive now. I have no connections to the crown anymore.”

“There are many kinds of knowing.”

That again. I shook my head. “I’m not—”

“Trust your gifts, Arabella, whatever they might be. Sometimes a gift requires great sacrifice, but we can no more turn our backs on it than will our hearts not to beat.”

I hardened my expression to stone. I wouldn’t be pushed.

He leaned back in his chair, loosely crossing one leg over the other—not a pious priestly pose. “Did you know the Guard is marching on the upper highway?” he asked. “Two thousand troops being moved to the southern border.”

“Today?” I said. “During the high holy days?”

He nodded. “Today.”

I looked away and traced the scrolled line in the arm of the chair with my finger. This wasn’t a simple rotation of troops. That many soldiers weren’t deployed, especially during the holy days, unless concerns were real. I recalled what Walther had said. Marauders have been creating all manner of bedlam. But he’d also said, We’ll keep them out. We always do.

Walther had been confident. Surely the moving of troops was only a preemptive strategy. More chest-beating, as Walther would call it. The numbers and timing were unusual, but with Father trying to save face with Dalbreck, he might be shaking his power in their faces like a fist. Two thousand troops was a formidable fist.

I stood. “So the book is mine to take?”

He smiled. “Yes.”

That was it? Just yes? He was far too cooperative. Nothing came that easy. I raised a brow. “And where do we stand?”

A small chuckle escaped from his lips. He stood so we were eye to eye. “If you mean will I report your presence, the answer is no.”

“Why? It could be construed as treason.”

“What Pauline told me was in holy confidence, and you’ve admitted nothing, only that you came to borrow a book. And I haven’t seen Princess Arabella since she was a wailing baby. You’ve changed a bit since then, except for the wailing part, I’m told. No one would expect me to recognize you.”

I smiled, still trying to figure him out. “Why?” I asked again.

He grinned and raised one brow. “Seventeen years ago, I held a squalling infant girl in my hands. I lifted her up to the gods, praying for her protection and promising mine. I’m not a fool. I keep my promises to the gods, not men.”

I eyed him uncertainly, biting the corner of my lip. A true man of the gods?

He slid his arm around my shoulder and walked me to the door, telling me if I wanted any other books, all I had to do was ask. When I was halfway across the vestibule, he whispered after me, “I wouldn’t speak to the other priests of this matter. They might not all agree where loyalties should lie. Understood?”

“Clearly.”

*

The bell of the Sacrista rang again, this time heralding the noon hour. My stomach rumbled. I stood at the side of the sanctuary, shaded in a dark nook of the northern portico as I looked through the book.

Kencha tor ena shiamay? What is your name?

Bedage nict. Come out.

Sevende. Hurry.

Adwa bas. Sit down.

Mi nay bogeve. Do not move.

It sounded like a soldier’s rudimentary command book for managing prisoners, but I could study it more later. Maybe it would help me understand my own small book from Venda. I closed it, hiding it away in my clothing, and looked out over the heads of the festival-goers. I spotted Pauline’s honey hair shimmering beneath a crown of pink flowers. I was about to call out to her when I felt a whisper at my neck.

“At last.”

Warm shivers prickled my skin. Rafe’s chest pressed close to my back, and his finger traveled along my shoulder and down my arm. “I thought we’d never get a moment alone.”

His lips brushed my jaw. I closed my eyes, and a shudder sprinted through me. “We’re hardly alone,” I said. “Can’t you see an entire town milling in front of you?”

His hand circled my waist, his thumb stroking my side. “I can’t see anything but this…” He kissed my shoulder, his lips traveling over my skin until they reached my ear. “And this … and this.”

I turned around, and my mouth met his. He smelled of soap and fresh cotton. “Someone might see us,” I said, breathless between kisses.

“So?”

I didn’t want to care, but I gently nudged away, mindful that it was broad daylight and the shadow of a nook afforded very little privacy.

A reluctant smile lifted a corner of his mouth. “Our timing always seems to be off. A moment alone but with a whole town as an audience.”

“Tonight there’ll be food and dancing and plenty of shadows to get lost in. We won’t be missed.”

His expression became solemn as his hands tightened on my waist. “Lia, I—” He cut off his own words.