Page 29 of Witchshadow

“No.” His eyes moved back to her own. They were a vivid green in the light of the flowers. “My uncle was the one who suggested that we rekindle our passion.”

“Rekindle?” Safi asked, pulling her hand free.

Leopold relinquished his hold with a sigh. Then drew her into an easy pace through the garden. “Imighthave told him the eve before your wedding that we had once been lovers.”

“And he believed you?”

“He had no reason not to, and I had all the reason in the world to find a way to see you privately—oh, that frown will not do, Safiya.” He smiled handsomely at her. His skin seemed to gleam.

And Safi quickly brushed away the frown she hadn’t realized she’d been wearing. As startled as she was that Henrick had so easily believed Leopold, she was far more annoyed that Leopold had told such lies in the first place.

“You should have warned me,” she said with a twinkling laugh. So false, she could only imagine how white the lens in her pocket must be. “What if Henrick had asked me about it?”

“He would not have believed your denials. Youdorecall what happened after the wedding.”

Of course Safi recalled. It was the moment when her whole life had been flipped, shredded, tossed away. And when the person in this whole thrice-damned world who mattered most to Safi had been forced to run.

“No thanks to you,” Safi whispered. She couldn’t keep the venom from her voice. Leopold must have known what was coming—he had to haveknownwhat Henrick planned to do to Safi and Iseult. And he had done nothing to stop it, nothing to protect them from the pain of Hell-Bard cold.

“The truth is not what you think it is.” Leopold pulled Safi to him. His lips hovered near hers while his eyes bored deep. “I will explain everything to you, and you can use the Truth-lens to confirm I do not lie. But we must go somewhere more private for such a conversation.”

His breath fluttered over Safi’s skin. She dipped her lips a bit closer. “How can anything be private when spies live everywhere?”

“There are secret ways of moving, even here. Tonight, after the dancing, I will send another letter, and you will come to my quarters.”

“I will?” She pulled away. Cold air rushed between them. “And if I refuse?”

“Let us not even consider that thought.” He offered a flirtatious grin and resumed their walk.

Except that before he could actually step onward, Safi grabbed his cape and pulled him to her. Her lips hit his a split moment later, and where she had expected surprised stiffness, she got only willing embrace. Leopold’s hands instantly moved to her hair, his mouth pressed firmly against hers. He deepened the kiss. She deepened it right back.

At some point, her ermine hat fell off.

This was not, in fact, Safi’s first kiss with Leopold. As shy ten-year-old, she had experimented with him in the dustiest corner of the imperial library. It hadnotbeen a passionate affair, and it hadnotbeen particularly interesting. They’d both laughed afterward and vowed never to try again.

But Leopold had clearly honed his skills in the last eight years, and Safi had certainly honed her own. Were this not purely for show and if she had nothatedLeopold with every droplet of her being, she might have enjoyed the kiss. He was an undeniably beautiful man, and she was a woman with needs.

She broke the embrace. “I will come to your quarters,” she whispered. Her hands were still around his neck; his lips were swollen and red. “You will have one chance to explain to me why I should trust you, and if you failthat chance, I will hand over the Truth-lens to Henrick and turn you in for a traitor.”

Leopold smiled—a brilliant smile that settled deep within his eyes. “I have no doubt you will, Safiya.” His hands fell from her hair. “But I promise it will not come to that.” He swooped down to retrieve her hat, dusting off the snow and placing it tenderly atop her head. “Let us finish our walk.” He offered his arm once more. “And let us hope that kiss was convincing enough for even the most suspicious of my uncle’s spies.”

It was not Safi’s usual Hell-Bards who escorted her from the Winter Garden and into the palace. Instead the Emperor’s dedicated eight awaited her, led by Captain Caden fitz Grieg.

“The Emperor has asked that you join him in court,” Caden said with a stiff bow. With his split helm covering most of his face, Safi could not read his expression—but she could hear a familiar warmth marking his voice.

She had scarcely seen Caden or Zander since her noosing. Caden had been promoted upon his return to Praga and Henrick kept him close. Zander meanwhile had been assigned outside the palace. He had failed to keep Iseult from claiming Owl when she’d fled, and Safi could only assume some punishment had befallen him for that lapse.

“Captain,” Safi said with a smile. “It has been a while.” She stepped into a long-legged stride, moving in a way that forced Caden to walk beside her instead of flanking.

She was Empress now, and he could hardly reject her conversation. So while the other Hell-Bards moved accordingly to fill in his empty space, he fell into step beside her. He even went so far as to remove his helm. His brown hair was matted to his head, his freckled face pink with cold.

“Have you heard any news of Iseult?” Safi’s stomach yawned at that question, but she had to ask it. Every time she saw him, shehadto ask.

“No,” he said on a sigh. “No Hell-Bards have caught up to her yet.”

“Thank the gods,” Safi breathed, and her shoulders wilted, her neck relaxed.

Caden, who watched her sideways through hooded eyes, only tensed all the more. “Lev tells me you keep testing the noose.”