Page 85 of Embrace the Serpent

When I straightened, she was gone.

Rane grumbled at the healer to hurry up. I shared the sentiment. I had a long list of questions for him, once we were alone.

The healer busied herself with the bandage on his chest, murmuring something soothing.

The haze over my thoughts was growing, and I folded myself down onto a divan, watching her work. The lapping of the lake, thedistant sound of birdcall, Rane’s low grumbles—I felt something in me unclench, just a little.

The next thing I knew, I was blinking awake. The sun was high, and I was in a vast bed with soft sheets.

This is Rane’s bed.

I jumped out, flinging the sheets aside. I pressed my hands to my cheeks. Why was I so embarrassed all the time?

Low voices came from the main room. I patted my pocket, but it was empty.

Rane—that is, the Serpent King—was surrounded by people. Several of his huntsmen ringed him, and none of them wore helms.

One was speaking, and she fell silent as they all noticed me. I froze, and then, noticing a platter of assorted cakes and gingered candies, I pretended I had come for them. I stuffed a little poppy seed cake in my mouth and glanced at them through the curtain of my hair.

Rane gestured for her to continue.

“Vanon’s four are yet to return,” the huntsman said.

“He’ll be fine,” Rane said. “What of the border?”

“There are two outsiders who made it through the border recently. One seemed like an honest accident. We erased his memories and let him go. The other, we’re not sure. He might be an Imperial scout. We have him imprisoned.”

They attended to a few other bits of business before they filed out.

As the door shut, Rane let out a long exhale. We were suddenly alone.

A singsong chattering came from the birdcage, where Grimneyperched, nodding intently at the nightingale. Almost alone, I amended my thoughts.

Rane moved to the balcony. The lake glittered in the afternoon light, the town and its bridges and canals gleaming white. In the distance were the forest-covered hills we had come through, and in the air above them was a soft line where soft golden sunshine turned suddenly to a misty gloom. The border wasn’t perfectly straight but curved with the landscape.

I kept my voice quiet. “They said outsiders came through the border. But how?”

He shifted so I could stand beside him. “The enchantments that protect my people are failing. There are cracks in the border. They disappear and reappear in new places, and of late, more and more are appearing. You remember Barad’s stories—some creatures have crept through, the selfish ones and the ones that are more beast than being, and I worry that people will soon realize that the divide between us is not as impenetrable as it was. I must fix this before my people realize the wards are weakening. That is the reason I brought you here.”

“They don’t know?”

“They must not. When my grandfather raised the wards, he promised all who sought refuge in our kingdom that they would be safe here. I cannot let his gift fail under my reign.”

“I know nothing of your kind of powers.”

“It is not my kind of powers that protects us, but yours.”

“Jewelsmithing?”

He hushed me and glanced over his shoulder. “Be careful whenyou speak of it. My people remember the old days, and their fear of jewelsmiths is strong. We must be very careful.”

“That’s why you called me your bride.”

“Surely you don’t object to pretending, just a little longer?”

The teasing in his eyes, the warmth of his body, it muddled my mind. “We’ll pretend only when we have to.” It sometimes felt like we were pretending when we didn’t need to. And that was making it harder to keep track of what was real.

He shifted, putting a little distance between us. “As you wish.”