The Queen's Assassin (The Queen's Secret #1)(47)
Today he hasn’t been half as irritating, which I find rather irritating.
Once it’s dark, I curl up near the fire, drowsy and content, wishing we could spend a few more days here just like this, with nothing to worry about but training and catching fish.
Cal settles in across from me, his gaze trained on the fire. I haven’t had a chance to study him like this before, without worrying about being caught staring. He has a small scar near his left eyebrow, and a dimple in his right cheek that only appears when he smiles.
We watch the fire in silence, the two of us sprawled in our makeshift beds of leaves, next to each other. “Do you know any stories?” he asks. The expression on his face is so earnest, I know he can’t be teasing me.
“Do I know any stories,” I repeat, and pull my knees to my chest. My mind begins to wander, and before I know it, I’m telling him the story of Renovia, the one my aunts used to tell me at bedtime, when we were warm and safe in our cottage in the Honey Glade. It’s their favorite story, about the mage Omin and a queen and the love between them that established the ancient kingdom of Avantine, glorious and grand and full of magic and light.
I let myself get lost in the story, imagining my aunts gathered around me in bed. They seemed so big when I was so little and the way they spun this tale always left me in awe. At the end of it, Cal looks up at me. He is studying me the way I had studied him. “I know that story too,” he says. “You tell it well.”
Then without saying another word, he lies back and turns away so I can no longer see his face.
“Good night,” I say softly.
A moment passes before he responds. “Good night.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Shadow
WHEN I OPEN MY EYES in the morning, I find myself curled up against Cal, my head on his chest while his arm is wrapped around my shoulder. I must have rolled over in my sleep. I don’t move for a moment; he’s so incredibly warm, and I’m so comfortable. Eventually I try to shift away without waking him, but when I look up at his face I see that his eyes are open. How long has he been awake, knowing I was in his arms? He doesn’t appear to be perturbed by the situation. The thought bristles—perhaps he assumes I am just like any lady who waves her fan at him. Or maybe he was just being kind. It is very cold on the rocky cave floor.
“Look,” he says, and motions to his hand on my arm. His voice is as warm as the rest of him, still deep and scratchy from sleep.
“What is it?” I ask, looking down.
“The wound is nearly gone,” he says, turning it over. He runs his finger down the length of my arm where it was sliced open when I fell. His touch is so gentle that it sends shivers all over my skin.
We look at the wound together. There’s still a pink line where the cut was, but it’s almost completely healed over, and the bruises have faded away as well. “You were right,” I say. “Your father’s salve is miraculous. It’s even better than Aunt Mesha’s. Don’t tell her I said so.”
“Never,” Cal says, raising his hand as if he’s swearing an oath.
“I suppose that means we’re ready to move on now,” I say, getting up from his embrace. I wrap my arms around myself, but they are not even half as warm as his.
He doesn’t seem to notice my absence; he’s already intent on what lies ahead. “Yes, breakfast first and then we can discuss what to do once we get into Montrice.”
Fish was never my favorite, but somehow it has become one. Freshly caught as before, it is divine, even without seasoning. We eat five between the two of us, barely speaking until we’ve consumed every last morsel.
Cal works a stick between his teeth after eating. “We need a plan. The problem is, I don’t know exactly what I’m planning for, so we will have to change course as we come upon obstacles.”
I nod, thinking of the forged work order and how I chopped my hair off before running away from home. Running away from home—that’s exactly what I did, so of course they used the orb to try to find me, and they cast a locus right away, no doubt. Except that spell couldn’t reach as far as Deersia, let alone beyond it. Has Ma been informed of my disappearance? I wonder. If only I could communicate with them somehow, let them know I am safe. After all, if I am with Caledon Holt, it’s probably the safest place to be in all the kingdoms.
“I’ve only been to Montrice once, and that was some time ago. The people are friendly enough, but false words mask true intentions. Don’t forget that.”
I assure him that I’m naturally distrustful and he smiles once more, his dimple winking at me. I try not to look directly at his face; it’s too distracting. I remember what he told me earlier, that the queen believes someone in Montrice—someone powerful—is working with the Aphrasians to overthrow the Renovian monarchy.
“What I don’t understand is how the grand prince was an Aphrasian. He was so devoted to the royal family,” I say.
“A loyal fa?ade hides the worst kind of traitor,” Cal says.
I shift uncomfortably. “And I thought we were at peace with Montrice.”
“Well, it has been about eighteen years since they last tried to assassinate the queen. I suppose that means we’re due for another conflict.”
“I’ll never understand that. Why can’t people be satisfied with peace? It’s as if they do everything possible to avoid harmony between the kingdoms.” The thought of another war with Montrice infuriates me. Such a useless loss of life. Innocent people used as pawns to carry out the whims of the aristocracy.