Page 17

CALLYN

Alek has a full armory and training arena that rivals what’s in the palace, because of course he does.

“Choose whatever you like,” he says, indicating a wall full of swords and crossbows and knives.

I run a finger over a glistening blade, but I don’t take it off the wall. “I thought you were busy .”

“I’m never too busy for a good fight.”

That’s probably true. There’s an edge to his voice that tells me he’s going to enjoy it, too.

Verin made me feel like a fool, and then she tortured and humiliated me in the arena. Now he’s going to do the exact same thing, in the exact same order. I wish I’d never come here. My mother probably would be disappointed in me.

The instant I have the thought, tears prick behind my eyes, and I blink them away.

“Come now,” Alek prods. “Make your selection. Surely you could use the practice.”

Well, that’s the truth. I feel like such a failure in so many ways. I swallow past a lump in my throat. “Just show me the fabrics for Sinna. Do you have anything with butterflies?”

His eyebrows flicker into a frown.

“Or shades of green?” I add, trying to keep any tremor out of my voice. “She seems rather keen on frogs right now, and perhaps we could have a seamstress embroider a few lily pads—”

“Callyn.” He studies me, his eyes searching my face.

It’s life or death for us, too.

There are just too many sides here, and as usual, I have no idea who’s right.

I bite the edge of my tongue, because I don’t dare cry in front of him. He’s the worst kind of person to bare any vulnerability in front of.

“Tell me what you really want,” he says, and his voice is so soft that it draws my gaze up. The arena is full of dim sunlight that filters down from the windows overhead, and he’s looking at me the way he did on that morning he arrived, when he looked concerned. When he looked like he cared .

I don’t want to trust any of this.

I pull my hand away from the weapons. “I don’t want to fight,” I say, and my voice sounds hollow. I lift my chin. “It’s bad enough that Verin humiliates me. I don’t need you to do it, too.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “You truly do think so little of me, don’t you.”

He sounds wounded, and I have to swallow again, because I still can’t tell if he’s being manipulative or if he’s being genuine. “How about this. I’ll tell your story from my side.”

He folds his arms. “Go ahead.”

“Jax and I had nothing . We were both in danger of losing our homes.” I can’t look at him while I say all this. I trace my finger over the filigreed handle of a dagger. “I didn’t know what would happen to Nora if I were thrown in a debtor’s prison—and I didn’t want to enlist in the army for the exact same reason. So when Lady Karyl showed up with silver, Jax asked for twice as much so he could give half to me.”

Alek says nothing, and I refuse to look at him now, because I won’t be able to continue. I run my finger over the engraved flat side of a sword blade.

“His father was terrible. Terrible. Jax would work himself into the ground, and his father would spend every coin they earned on gambling and drinking. The day Jax demanded so much from you was because his father stole the little he’d managed to hide. And maybe he shouldn’t have been spending so much time with Lord Tycho, but he didn’t say a word about you or your notes. I know he didn’t. He just—we just—” My voice breaks. “He wasn’t greedy. He knew he was asking too much. But he was risking himself for me, because he was my best friend—”

Alek catches my wrist, and I gasp.

“That one is very sharp,” he says, and I realize my finger was about to find the edge of the blade.

But he doesn’t let go, and I don’t pull away. His fingers are warm against my wrist, and I can feel the strength in his hand. I keep my eyes fixed on the wall of weapons, and the silence swells between us.

“I can’t undo what happened with Jax,” he finally says. “And I wouldn’t even if I could. Too much was at stake.”

“Too much was at stake for us, too.”

“I know.” His thumb runs along the inside of my wrist, and he moves a little closer. “Did you really think my intent in bringing you here was to humiliate you?”

My voice won’t work, but I nod.

“Why?” he says, and the word is so simple and innocent that I have to look at him.

His expression is earnest, his eyes a little wide, as if he wants a genuine answer.

But I don’t have an answer. Everything has gotten so tangled up and turned around, and I truly have no idea what to say to him.

“Because I keep expecting you to be cruel,” I finally say, and my breath catches again. “And then you’re not.”

“No,” he says gently. “I’m not.”

The way he says that reminds me of my conversation with the queen. Empathy doesn’t make you a fool.

“How much of it was real?” I say suddenly.

“How much of what was real?”

“Us. You and me.” I glance at his hand on my wrist, and I feel heat bloom on my cheeks. “ This. ”

“All of it.”

He says it boldly, without hesitation, and he hasn’t stopped running his thumb along my skin. The movement is entrancing, stealing my thoughts. A bit of heat flickers in his eyes now, impossible to ignore. It’s sparking warmth in my heart, in my belly.

But he’s tricked me before, and he could trick me again.

So I say, “Prove it.”

“Fine.” He takes hold of my waist and presses his mouth to mine.

When I gasp, he swallows the sound, his tongue brushing my lips. I don’t know if I was expecting an explanation or a story or a line of pretty lies, but his movement is so swift and gentle that I’m melting into him without realizing it. His hands are so secure, holding me against him.

That’s what gets me. The holding . His hand splays against my back, supporting me, and I’m reminded of the night he came to the bakery, the way he held me then, too. How badly I wanted to be held, cherished, kept safe. And that’s exactly what he did.

It’s exactly what he’s doing now.

Alek draws back a little, his chest rising and falling quickly against mine.

“Enough proof?” he whispers.

Oh, I want it to be. I want it all to be real, because there’s something so comforting about being in the circle of his arms.

But I have to shake my head. “Prove it with words,” I whisper.

He laughs a little ruefully and lets me go. “You really are something, Callyn.”

I don’t know what that means. I do know I’m already missing his warmth, and he looks a bit wounded again. But I force steel into my spine and look at him. “Can you?”

“Actually, yes. So can you. Tell me the point at which I needed to seduce you to gain your cooperation.”

I inhale—then stop.

Alek folds his arms. “I paid you to hold a message—the same as Jax. I repaired your barn, sent customers your way, had clothes delivered—all without one moment of romantic intrigue between us. You spoke up for me to Lord Jacob of your own accord, and in fact, you jumped between our blades to stop a fight.” He pauses. “Even the night we spent together, I had nothing to gain. If I recall correctly, I put myself at risk by sharing quite a bit about my motives.”

All true.

He moves closer, and his voice drops. “Even now. What do I have to gain?”

Also true.

If I were a spy, I could probably use this. I could seduce him , trick him into revealing everything he knows.

But I’m not a spy. The queen even said she didn’t need me to be.

That thought is striking. Is everyone else being earnest, while I’m the one who’s all wrapped up in hidden motivations and secret intrigues? Have I been making everything more complicated than it needs to be?

I smooth down the skirts of my robes, but it’s really just an excuse to look away from him. “I didn’t come here for . . . ? this .”

“I know.”

I give him a look. “I didn’t really come here to look at fabric either.”

“I know that, too.” He pauses. “I asked once before, and I’ll ask again. Tell me what it is you do want, Callyn.”

“The queen didn’t send me to negotiate for information. She sent me to deliver a message. She wants you to know that she’s willing to hear everything you have to say.”

His blue eyes widen in surprise—then narrow. He sets his jaw and says nothing. I might as well have built a sudden wall between us.

“I know you don’t have any reason to believe me,” I say. “But I’ve spent so much time thinking you were manipulating me , and I don’t want you to think I’m doing the same thing to you.”

He regards me for a moment, then turns. “All right. Let’s go look at the looms for Princess Sinna. Frogs, you said?”

I frown. “Alek.” Then I scowl. “ My lord. ” I reach out to catch his hand.

He catches mine instead. “ Alek ,” he insists, his thumb brushing over mine. “Walk with me. I’ll talk.”

So I walk. He doesn’t let go of my hand, and he leads me out of the arena.

“The queen can summon me at any time,” he says, musing. “She could have said this right to my face. Why did she send you?”

That’s a good question. “Maybe she thought you’d be more willing to talk to me.”

“Or maybe there are people in the palace who wouldn’t allow us to speak privately,” he says, still musing—but that feels like a prompt.

“I don’t know,” I say.

“If you expect information from me, you must be willing to share your own.” He pauses, his voice turning grave. “And I genuinely do worry for our queen. I’ve already mentioned my suspicion of Nolla Verin.”

“I don’t think the queen suspects her own sister .” As I say the words, however, I remember the queen not having much of a reaction when I mentioned Alek’s accusation. I consider how Verin didn’t tell the queen about the way she was treating me either.

Alek is studying me. “Verin was once the favored daughter. She was expected to claim the throne.”

“She was?”

He nods. “I know you weren’t at court, but surely you knew Queen Karis Luran ruled ruthlessly and encouraged brutality on the battlefield. No one expected Lia Mara to take her place.”

My eyes are wide. I didn’t know that—though I suppose it makes sense, considering how many times Verin has broken my bones.

I think back to the morning in the arena, when Grey used his magic to fix my face, telling me about Karis Luran’s soldiers and their brutality in Emberfall. I didn’t want to consider my mother being a part of that—but with this new information, I wonder if she would have been just like Verin.

Alek shrugs a little. “Verin is close with the army, too. She could have easily made sure no one prevented the queen from leaving that day—or made sure that ineffective guards would allow the kidnapping to happen.”

I turn that around in my head for a while—and there’s a part of me that wants to rush back to the palace. Nora has gotten to a point where she’s practically idolizing Verin, and I hate the idea of my sister spending time with someone who could be conspiring against the queen.

But I can’t quite make it work. “She has full access to the king and queen,” I say. “Why kidnap Queen Lia Mara? There would be no need to hide them in Briarlock to lure the king out.”

Alek sighs. “True. Perhaps that’s a dead end. I still believe the king’s magic harmed Queen Lia Mara in some way. Several of us are wondering how deep the wound goes—especially since she has been so withdrawn from the people.” His voice takes on a thread of anger. “Is Grey keeping her separated from those who would be an ally?”

“No!” I say in surprise. Part of this conversation feels like a betrayal, and I’m surprised to find myself wanting to defend the king. “Honestly, the king and queen are barely speaking, so he wouldn’t even know who she was—”

“Barely speaking!” He stops short and turns to face me.

The sudden intrigue in his voice makes me wonder if I’ve said more than I should. But it’s not like anyone else in the palace can’t see the way the king and queen are never in the same room together.

I hesitate, then nod.

Alek sighs, and I hear frustration in the sound. “Tell the queen that I could offer her sanctuary. I don’t care about his magic.”

I put a hand to the pendant under my robes. I can’t help it.

“You too,” he says. “I have artifacts here. You would be protected.”

That makes me look up. “You do?”

He smiles ruefully. “Your turn.”

“I genuinely don’t think she’s looking to escape,” I say. “She wants to hear from her people. You in particular. She said you’ve always been loyal.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and I can tell those words affect him. “If she didn’t summon me herself, and she gave you a false reason to come here, then she’s hiding her motives from the king. Are they still sharing a bed?”

I flush—especially since I can name several occasions when it was clear the king hadn’t been in the queen’s chambers. That feels so private, so intimate .

“That’s not my business,” I finally say.

“And that’s answer enough.” He doesn’t sound victorious about figuring it out. “Behind closed doors—are they at odds?”

“Not that I’ve seen. But then I’m not behind those closed doors.” I think of the queen’s sorrow, the way my sister leapt up to give her a hug. Maybe it’s about more than just the baby she lost.

“You’re frowning,” he says.

“Because she’s sad,” I say quietly. “The queen seems so sad.”

That affects him, too. I expect his eyes to light with frustration or anger—or maybe even calculation—but he looks just as sad as I feel.

Despite all his stories, his explanations, that is what finally makes me believe him.

I pull him to a stop. “You really care.”

“I do,” he says. “My loyalty isn’t an act. My mother died to protect Syhl Shallow. So did my sister. Magic was banished years ago—and now it’s sitting on a throne. If the queen needs my help, I’ll give it.”

“And everything you did in Briarlock—none of that was about attacking the queen?”

“No. I still haven’t been able to determine who was behind it. Lady Clarinas is gone. There have been no messages at any of my usual merchants. The Truthbringers have fractured, and there are those, like me, who still want to protect the queen.” A bit of anger slips into his tone. “And others who simply want to eradicate magic, no matter what the cost—even if it means destroying the entire royal family.”

“And—”

“Your turn.” He shifts to start walking again.

I scowl, then search my thoughts for something to share. “The queen said there are rumors of scraver attacks since what happened in Briarlock.”

He nods, and he doesn’t seem surprised. “I have spies on both sides of the border. I’ve heard these rumors. No doubt the king is sending his minions to wreak havoc and instill fear.”

Spies on both sides of the border. I tuck that bit of information away to examine later. “I don’t think so,” I say.

That gets his attention. “Why?”

I frown and shake my head. “I was there. During the battle in Briarlock. He didn’t summon them.” I remember a scraver leaning over Nora, lending magic to help heal her wounds. The same secret magic I have in my veins, thanks to this pendant—just like the queen gained from her rings. “The king wasn’t . . . ?he wasn’t using them. He wasn’t commanding them. They came to help.”

“They came to help—and now they’re attacking?”

I falter. “I don’t know for sure. But that’s what I’ve heard.”

He scoffs. “Rumors always carry a shred of fact, Callyn. A generation ago, scravers were treaty bound to stay in the ice forests of Iishellasa—and the magesmiths went there with them. If scravers are attacking our people, they’re either working with the king—or they’re breaking the treaty. Either way, it means nothing good for the people of Syhl Shallow. Magic was banished once, with good cause, and it should be banished again.”

Magic. I touch that pendant again.

Then we turn a corner, and he leads me through a set of heavy doors, into a wide room humming with activity.

“I’ll show you the newest fabrics for the princess,” he says, speaking loudly over the rhythmic noise of the looms. “I have some artisans who’ve done some incredible work with silver thread. This way.”

I suppose our discussion of intrigue is over.

But then Alek leans close. “Tell the queen what I’ve said.” He pauses. “Including my thoughts about Verin.”

I gasp and look up at him.

His voice is still quiet, his eyes blazing into mine. “I told you Verin was intended to take the throne—but Lia Mara took it,” he says. “And she might hide it well, but Nolla Verin doesn’t like our king any more than I do.”

“Verin is the queen’s sister,” I say. I’m thinking of my sister. We might have our moments, but I can’t imagine Nora plotting against me.

Maybe the queen can’t imagine it either. Maybe that’s how she was kidnapped at all.

Alek lifts his voice and straightens. “Once you pick the loom work you like best, you can return in three days, and we should have some fabrics ready.”

It’s such an abrupt shift that I nearly stumble over my words. “I—yes, my lord.”

“Three days, Callyn,” he says pointedly, and now I understand. “After you speak with the queen, let her know that’s when you’ll need to come back.”