Reign of Shadows (Reign of Shadows, #1)(51)

I shifted on my feet awkwardly, uncertain how to respond to that. I hoped that if I had such a long life, my years would consist of more than a constant fight to stay alive.

I cleared my throat, thinking I should probably say something. Fowler wasn’t the most talkative sort, but some manner of acknowledgment should be given to this woman for stepping forward and offering her home to us. “Well, it’s very kind of you to welcome us into your—”

“Kind is right. With girls getting their heads taken these days, I expect not everyone would be as understanding to discover that you’re female and not a boy at all.”

I froze. Even my chest ceased to lift with breath.

Fowler stiffened beside me. The moment stretched forever. I risked movement, raising my arm as though to touch Fowler, but he stepped forward suddenly, closer to Mirelya. My hand fell back to my side, fingers curling inward, brushing my palm.

“What?” he demanded. “You think he’s a . . . girl—”

“No use making a grand show of denying it. I knew the moment she walked off the lift.” Her no-nonsense voice rang out. “Just as I expect it’s never far from your mind either, eh? Is it?”

I frowned, not sure what she was implying. Of course Fowler was aware that I was a female.

Mirelya laughed. “Oh. Still dancing around the obvious, are we? Young people. You behave as though you have all the time in the world for matters of the heart.”

Shaking my head, I grumbled, “You make no sense.”

“Look at his face. He understands me well enough,” she said smugly, a hum of laughter in her voice.

“Your vision must be impaired, old woman. This is my brother.”

“Now you’re just being insulting. Shall I step outside and gather other opinions? We can settle this entire matter by asking her to disrobe.”

My heart jerked in my chest.

Fowler inhaled. It was subtle, almost imperceptible. I felt its vibration pass through me like my own breath. He was beaten and worried. Maybe even afraid for me. Fowler, who never seemed rattled by anything. This only made me more on edge.

I turned my attention back to Mirelya, the woman who held my fate. One signal, one word from her, and my head would be separated from my body. A shuddery breath passed through my lips. Perhaps it was already inevitable.

“What now?” I asked. “Will you tell?”

“Telling gets me nothing. What’s one month’s rations? My time here is almost over. I need little food these days.”

I nodded, feeling only minor relief. Was my disguise that transparent? Had anyone else guessed the truth and simply held silent, waiting for a moment to catch me unaware? Tonight, sleeping alone in a bed, would a blade come down on my throat?

A feeling of aloneness swept over me. I hugged myself, wrapping my arms around my middle. There wasn’t a bounty on Fowler. It was on me. He could go. Perhaps he should. There was nothing but the promise Sivo had coerced from him, and the king’s decree made things more complicated and more dangerous in an already dangerous world. It wasn’t fair to him.

A finger brushed over the back of my hand. Startled, I lowered my arms. Fowler’s touch followed. He hooked a single finger around mine, linking us.

“Luna,” he murmured near my ear. “It’s going to be fine.”

My chest tightened and before I could stop myself I turned my hand around to squeeze his and hold tightly.

His palm turned over, fingers lacing with mine. It didn’t matter what Mirelya saw. She knew the truth about me.

“I’m good at keeping secrets,” Mirelya added. “I don’t share the things I can see if it’s going to hurt anyone. There’s enough pain in this life already. I won’t add to it.”

“Thank you,” Fowler said.

“I’ll also keep the fact that she’s blind to myself.”

At this added declaration, my legs felt suddenly weak. I released Fowler’s hand and inched toward the table, following the faint bite of oak.

I sank down into a chair. “How did you know?”

Somehow this woman had seen straight to the truth. Fowler hadn’t even realized I couldn’t see until hours after we first met.

“I can see things. I’ve always been able to see things.” The floor creaked softly beneath her weight. The air stirred as she sank down in a chair beside me.

I moistened my lips, turning my face toward her. “How? What do you mean?”

I started a little as she took my hand, closing it in both of hers. Her hands were large and thick with bone, her palms padded with rough calluses. Her fingers stroked my palms, her touch feather light, following the lines and dips and contours of my palm.

I tried to calm my shaking hand, hating the telltale shiver that coursed through me.

“You’re saying you possess the sight?” Fowler asked sharply, moving directly behind me, his boots thudding a few steps. I felt his shadow over me like a physical thing, a cloak floating above me, ready to drop and shield me at the first sign of threat.

I shouldn’t have liked the sensation. I shouldn’t have needed it. I pulled my shoulders back, thrusting my hand into hers, welcoming her to say whatever it was she saw carved on my skin.

“I did not say that,” Mirelya hedged, her voice evasive.

“But you see her fate? There on her hand?” There was a sharp edge in his voice. His hand landed on my shoulder, squeezing ever so slightly like he wanted to pull me away from her.