Page 6 of A Court of Truth and Thorns (Royal Scout #2)

KALI

H eart pounding in my throat, I spin toward Luca, whose glare threatens to burn down the forest. I scramble to calculate how much he might have heard, but the reality is that I’ve been blind to the world since first finding Trace.

Beside me, Trace clasps his hands in the small of his back and straightens before Luca. The silence rips me to shreds. My mouth is dry, my body too cold with Trace’s sudden absence. Luca’s condemning stare strips me naked, and I wrap my arms around my shoulders.

Luca jerks his head toward the cave. “In fact, why don’t you tell us all.”

Trace shifts his weight.

Luca’s hand slides to his sword hilt. “That wasn’t a request, Highness. ”

“Luca,” Trace says quietly.

“No.” The storm in Luca’s eyes shows just how little provocation it would take for him to draw steel. And blood. “Shut your mouth and walk.”

Moving slowly, Trace shows his friend his empty palms before carefully drawing his blade from its scabbard and holding the weapon’s hilt toward Luca.

Luca snatches the sword, its edge leaving a deep cut in Trace’s palm.

Trace wipes the blood against his shirt and presses the wounded palm against his forearm. “I pose no threat to you, Luca,” he says quietly. “Let me leave.”

My breath catches, an abyss of ice opening inside my chest. Let me leave , a voice chuckles hideously inside me, parroting Trace.

Me , not us . The full extent of my miscalculation lashes across my face like a whip.

I warned you, the voice says. You’ve no one to blame but yourself.

What is it you imagined was happening, little fool? Love? Bile rises into my throat.

Luca’s lip curls. “Get back to the cave, Rune. We may wish to sell you to Everett for their assistance.”

“Luca,” Trace starts again.

“No, traitor.” Luca points Trace’s own sword at his heart. “Walk.”

I sit with my head bowed as Luca recounts every intimate detail that Trace and I shared in the dark’s deceptive privacy.

In the light of the fire, sleepy faces stare from their blankets.

Alexa and Jasmine, plainly confused as to the implication of Luca’s words, hug each other in fear.

Wil and Calvin sit forward, weighing every revelation.

Leaning against the cave wall, Trace listens with a face of cool indifference, while each word Luca utters is a blade slicing into my soul. The only doubt his recounting leaves is whether I am an Everett accomplice or Trace’s plaything .

“Would you like me to weigh in on this,” I ask Luca once he wraps up the recitation, “or are you satisfied with your own personal account?”

Luca turns to me, his mouth twisting. “By all means, enlighten us, Kal. Or whatever your name is.”

I raise my chin. “My name is Kalianna and I am a trained scout that King Firehorn brought in to help understand the threats he might be facing. By living as both Kal, a male guardsman trainee, and the royal Lady Lianna, I was able to get access to a greater number of places then either persona alone would have allowed.”

Luca raises a brow. “The king brought you in to protect him, and upon discovering that his personal guard was an enemy spy, you proceeded to crawl into said spy’s breeches instead of reporting treason?

” He snorts, shaking his head. “You’ll forgive me when I say that you may have been better off keeping your mouth shut just now. ”

Put that way, I can’t exactly disagree.

I draw up my knees. This isn’t how my second-ever kiss was supposed to end.

Not with humiliation and tears and utter aloneness.

Lord Gapral never expected celibacy from his scouts, but he insisted that all pleasures of the flesh be acquired and paid for through his vetted network of courtesans.

No entanglements. No mixed loyalties. I should have taken Gapral up on the offer to make the arrangements.

Maybe then, these misplaced moments with Trace wouldn’t be tearing my insides to shreds.

Maybe I’d have known better than to kiss Trace in the first place.

“At least we won’t be coming to Everett as emptyhanded beggars,” Luca finishes, glaring at Trace. “The only question is whether we’d do better presenting him as a goodwill offering or granting his life in exchange for assistance.”

Wil and Calvin trade uneasy glances, but I can’t tell whether their dismay is rooted in the notion of selling Trace as a commodity, the practical difficulties of holding him hostage, or the general unpleasantness of spending time with an Everett spy.

Trace clears his throat. Even hunched over in deference to the low ceiling, he appears oblivious to either the hurtful words or the horrid plans.

“One problem, Luca,” he says now. “Prince Rune has been dead for five years. How exactly do you imagine an Everett commander will respond to your claim that I am said corpse?”

Calvin raises a finger. “Who is aware of your... lack of death, Your Highness?”

Trace exhales. “My parents. My sister. Present company.”

I press further into the wall, the words reaching me through a fog.

“The envoy knew nothing?” asks Wil, speaking for the first time since Luca’s announcement.

“Envoy Jajack came into service after Rune’s death,” says Trace.

“Convenient,” Luca says, his nostrils flaring.

“No. Designed.” Trace turns to him. “I was seventeen and thought I knew better than the generals. I took a lot of men on a fool’s mission that ended very badly—enough to jeopardize the people’s faith in the throne. Rune’s death controlled the damage.”

“A prince whose stupidity kills his men is a disgrace. A prince dying at the enemy’s hands is a call to unity. Was that the theory?” asks Calvin.

“Yes. My father went to great lengths to ensure that Rune’s martyrdom stuck.

Those who knew me well soon found themselves in other posts,” Trace continues.

“My sister’s appearance in Dansil’s court was, well, unexpected is an understatement.

” As he answers Calvin’s question, Trace’s eyes remain on Luca. “Ask what you want to know.”

Luca’s back stiffens and it’s a few heartbeats before he manages the words. “All those plans and patrols you put in place in the name of safeguarding Firehorn, all those times I came with you because I trusted you—what were you really doing? What were we doing?”

“We were safeguarding Firehorn,” Trace answers immediately. “Each and every time.”

“Because you’re a loyal Dansil subject?” demands Luca.

“Because I am loyal Everett subject,” Trace shoots back, pinning Luca with his glare. “Because Firehorn was the bridge to peace with Everett. The only bridge.” Silence settles over the cave as Trace’s words hang thick in the air.

Jasmine moans. Glancing at the young girl, I realize she must have given in to the fever sometime during the conversation.

Alexa scoots to her friend and touches her sweaty forehead. “She’s burning,” Alexa says quietly. “Badly.”

Luca pushes off the wall and kneels before the prone girl, cursing softly under his breath.

Alexa sobs.

“Rune,” Luca says after a moment, his voice strained like a bow as he breaks the silence. “You healed Kalianna. I heard you say it. What do you want in return for healing this child as well?”

My heart tightens.

“I can’t heal her,” Trace replies.

Luca is on his feet in an instant. “Because she does nothing for your cock?” He spins to me. “What did you do for him to earn a healing?”

One moment I’m sitting against cold stone and the next I’m on my feet, my fist swinging hard into Luca’s jaw.