Page 53 of The Curse of Gods (The Curse of Saints #3)

Josie loathed to admit she had envisioned Aleissande in her bedroom before.

It had been late at night, her nerves frayed from sneaking through Rinnia to meet with members of the Royal Guard.

Aleissande had been a steady presence at her side, unwilling to let Josie out of her sight as they wound through the streets.

It had been a moment of weakness. Of distraction.

Yet Josie could admit it had looked nothing like this .

“You’re not ready.”

It was the second time this week Josie had had this conversation with Aleissande.

Today, the general had shown up at her dormitory in the Maraciana—a large but dark apartment on the far side of the complex where the Saj who resided there full-time lived—dressed in her fighting leathers and demanding they train.

As if she hadn’t recently been on death’s door.

“I seem to remember you being particularly bothered when I dared to voice reservations about your readiness in combat,” Aleissande mused as she pushed past Josie.

“Now you have firsthand experience in how irksome it is.”

Aleissande pulled her focus from the circular table covered in maps and scraps of parchment, her lips fighting against a smile.

She glanced around the space, lingering on the sword that leaned against the far stone wall in the sitting room.

Josie had pushed the large armchair and end table to one side, creating a makeshift training ring right in the center of the apartment.

She’d attempted to train in one of the courtyards on the far side of the Maraciana. Natali had found her and cursed her so thoroughly, even Clyde would have blushed in admonishment.

She’d kept the training to her room since then. But the Maraciana, even in all its grandeur, was becoming stifling.

“I also seem to remember you blatantly disregarding orders and boarding a ship to join a mission you weren’t qualified to join,” Aleissande remarked as she trailed a finger over the pommel of the blade.

Josie smoothed a hand down her own fighting leathers, her muscles aching from the various exercises she’d been conducting before she was so rudely interrupted.

“I do not need the reminder of how much my actions cost us,” she muttered.

Aleissande’s brows rose as she leaned against the far wall. “I was teasing, Princess.”

Princess.

A single word, and something sparked in Josie’s blood. Suddenly, she was all too aware of just how much space was between them, like white space on a canvas, just waiting to be filled.

Weeks ago, an utterance of that word from Aleissande would have sparked a much different sort of heat in her. The change was dizzying.

Or maybe, I simply did not recognize this spark for what it was.

“Why did you loathe me so vehemently?” Josie nearly startled at the question that came out of her own mouth. Aleissande cocked her head, the sun streaming in from the sea-facing window glinting off of her usual sharp bun.

“That’s what you think?” she asked softly. “That I loathed you?”

Josie lifted a shoulder. “You were harder on me than any of the others.”

Aleissande mulled over that for a moment before she carefully said, “One might think that speaks to the potential I see in you.”

“Yes, all of that weaponry polishing surely spoke volumes of your faith in me,” Josie deadpanned as she dropped into one of the stiff wooden chairs at the table. She toyed with the corner of a map sprawled out on its surface.

“I admit I might have also found you…frustrating,” Aleissande conceded. “At first, I opposed the idea of the princess joining the force. You used your brother’s influence, and I thought, perhaps, you did not belong there.”

Josie bristled at the insinuation, but Aleissande continued before she could argue. “A week of training proved me wrong.”

“And yet you were still keen on making me miserable,” Josie pressed. She wasn’t sure why she suddenly needed to know. She hadn’t quite cared before. Perhaps it was because she was finally able to recognize that stirring in her stomach whenever Aleissande was near.

“Why? I’ve never done anything to you.”

“You existed, Josie,” Aleissande sighed. “That was enough.”

Josie’s head reared back, something twisting in her chest, but Aleissande stepped closer, her face softening as she continued.

“You are the king’s sister. I am the king’s Second. He trusts me to lead his armies and protect his kingdom; he trusts me to protect you . That is much easier to do if I am not distracted by…”

Aleissande trailed off, her gaze dragging down Josie’s figure. Josie felt every bit of her stare, her skin heating as if it were Aleissande’s fingers trailing across her.

She swallowed hard, but it did not clear the husk in her voice as she said, “I do not need protection.”

“Everyone needs protection,” Aleissande refuted. “Without it, we’re alone. I think you and I would agree that is a far worse fate. Besides, it’s a natural inclination to want to protect those we…care about.”

Josie pushed herself up, frowning as she took in the dusting of pink across Aleissande’s golden cheeks. “So you hated me because I was a distraction from your duties.”

A breathy laugh escaped the general, light and exasperated and fond. “Are you being willfully obtuse or have I truly lost my talents in wooing?”

“Is that what you think you’ve been doing? Wooing me?” Josie laughed.

Amusement stayed fixed on Aleissande’s face, but something else flickered beneath it. Her brow furrowed in contemplation, the soft smile on her lips fading as she considered Josie.

“Or perhaps you’re simply not ready to be wooed,” she murmured, more to herself, as if she was just realizing the truth in the matter. Josie’s blood cooled at the mere suggestion, the playful energy between them vanishing into thin air.

Josie straightened, her stomach tightening in displeasure. “You think I’m still hung up on Viviane.”

The words escaped her like a bitter accusation, but Aleissande did not balk at it. Nor did she answer. Instead, she continued to watch her, as if she knew there were more words waiting on the back of her tongue.

“She betrayed my family,” Josie bit out. “She betrayed me . I want nothing to do with her.”

Aleissande’s voice was far too gentle and understanding as she said, “Hatred is not the same as indifference.”

Josie knew that. She knew that. But she did not know what to do with this hatred. She did not know how to become indifferent to someone who shattered her trust and used Josie’s own love to do it.

“I had no idea you were a Saj, Aleissande,” Josie teased, aiming for unbothered and falling far short of it. She could tell by the way sympathy swam through the ocean of Aleissande’s eyes.

“You should talk to her,” Aleissande said.

“Why?”

“Because that anger you cling to will fester if you do not let it out.”

Josie’s jaw clenched as she looked away from the general. She was right—she knew she was right.

Josie forced out a slow breath, her muscles unclenching as the air seeped from her lips. Then she fixed her gaze on Aleissande, her steps sure and steady as she closed the distance between them.

“There are other ways to find release,” Josie murmured as she came to a stop before the general. Slowly, she reached a hand for the general’s waist, making her intentions clear.

Aleissande stood perfectly still, her eyes darkening as Josie’s hand found her hip.

“There are,” Aleissande agreed, her breath fanning across Josie’s lips.

Josie trailed her fingers down Aleissande’s thigh, her heart hammering as her gaze tracked the bob of the general’s throat. She tilted her head up, leaning in until she could feel the heat from the air leaving Aleissande’s mouth.

“You woo better with a blade in your hand,” Josie whispered. And then she pulled away, the blade sheathed at Aleissande’s thigh in hand. She pressed it to Aleissande’s chest, her lips stretching into a teasing grin as she waited for the general to take it.

Aleissande’s eyes widened, something playful glinting in them as her gaze dropped to the knife.

“So now you think I’m ready?”

She took the blade.

“Since when have you cared what I think?” Josie teased.

Aleissande glanced at her through her lashes. “Far longer than you’re ready to hear, Princess.”

She turned, stepping to the edge of the space Josie had created and rolling her wrists, as if she could shed the tug Josie could still feel between them.

“Shall we?” Aleissande offered as she took up a sparring stance.

Josie grabbed her knife from where it lay on the table. “Let’s.”

***

“Yield.”

Josie grinned down at Aleissande, her knife tip pressed gently against her leathers in the space between her ribs. The general’s cheeks were flushed with exertion, her eyes bright as she stared up at Josie. Her hair had come loose from its bun, wisps of gold framing her face as she panted.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Aleissande tried to buck her hips, but Josie held firm, her body pinning Aleissande’s to the floor.

“You’re not going easy on me because of your injury, are you?” Josie taunted, savoring the way Aleissande’s eyes flashed.

The air rushed from Josie’s lungs as Aleissande wrapped a leg around her waist and slammed her to the ground, her body warm and firm as she rolled on top of her.

“Say that again, Princess,” Aleissande dared her.

A cough sounded from the doorway, and Josie whipped her head to see Natali standing there, their brows raised in amusement.

“Am I interrupting?” they asked. But they stepped into the room anyway, closing the door behind them with a click.

“Josie was just helping me train,” Aleissande explained as she stood. “It seems I’m more battle-ready than she anticipated.” She smirked at Josie as she held out a hand to help her up. Josie batted it away.

If Aleissande wanted to be a brat, Josie would be one, too.

“What news?” Josie asked as she stood, rolling her neck to work out any lingering stiffness from her exertion.

She took in Natali’s clothes—the Saj donned their typical loose-fitting pants that billowed near their feet, this time paired with a cropped long-sleeved shirt in a matching light blue hue.

They looked as if they’d just come from a usual day of work at the Maraciana.

Natali grinned. “There are protestors outside the Council building. Apparently, a missive was discovered from the Bellare to the Talan queen.”

Excitement fluttered in Josie’s stomach. “Have the Bellare responded to the protestors?”

“Not yet,” Natali informed them. “And their silence is deafening.”

“So it’s begun,” Aleissande remarked from beside Josie. She was frowning, her eyes distant, as if scanning some map Josie could not see.

Strategizing and re-strategizing, Josie realized, her suspicions confirmed when Aleissande added, “We may need to move up our timeline.”

Josie stalked to the table, her teeth tugging on her bottom lip as she took in the maps of Rinnia and the pages of troop registers.

“We don’t have the numbers yet,” Josie argued. Aleissande had only just been able to start putting out feelers about who might join their cause. “If you’d let me help you more in town—”

“Absolutely not,” Aleissande cut her off. “I’ve already told you, it’s too dangerous. Too many of the City Guard are in the Bellare’s pocket.” Josie scoffed, but Aleissande continued, her eyes wide and earnest. “You are the princess of this kingdom, and we need you.”

Josie fought against the way her mind conjured her uncle’s voice instead of Aleissande’s steady tone. She shoved down the thoughts that he had once etched into her mind, thoughts of what a second-born princess could and should strive for.

“Our people will need someone to rally behind when we retake the palace,” Aleissande continued, as if she could sense Josie’s inner struggle and was intent on banishing Dominic’s voice for good. “I’d rather have you with a sword in your hand on that day than lurking through alleys now.”

She stopped before her, her touch gentle on Josie’s forearm. “Patience, Princess,” Aleissande murmured, just for her. “You’ll get your chance to join this fight.”