Page 19 of The Traitor's Game


  Obviously not. I added, "Antora can no longer be my home."

  "No, you could stay in Antora if ..." His voice trailed off and he seemed to struggle for the right words to finish. He scraped his boot along the floor before stepping forward, close enough that my pulse shot into my fingertips. I understood what the focused look in his eyes meant, why he seemed so nervous. Yet it couldn't compare to the flutters his presence created in me, a symphony of confusion. "Would you consider joining the Coracks? I know it'd mean turning on your father, but hasn't he already turned on you? Let's fight on the same side of this battle."

  He was asking too much. Couldn't he see that? The sudden exhaustion I felt went deeper than a thousand years of sleep could cure. I lowered my eyes, mumbling, "We're not on the same side. We'll never be."

  "Why not? Let's fight together. Let's be together." He put a hand to my cheek and held it there. His touch was gentle, barely a whisper upon my skin, but as his fingers swept around the side of my neck, something stirred inside me, a beautiful chaos that started in my chest and spread throughout my body. Did he know the feelings that were exploding in me, the tremors his touch caused?

  My arms unfolded, inviting him closer. I'd always been drawn to his eyes, but it was more than that. I liked the hint of curl in his hair, the strong line of his jaw, the flush of color in his cheeks when he was angry or smiling or ... or whatever was happening to him now.

  What was happening to me? This couldn't continue. Not with everything I knew. Not if he knew.

  Simon's fingers slid down my neck, tracing trails of shivers, his thumb caressing my collarbone and flooding my senses with him. If I had any control of my legs, I would have backed away, but instead, I wanted to be near him, to feel the touch of his lips. Would his kiss be gentle, like the caress of his hands? Or would it be as intense as his gaze? Was he feeling the same as me, dizzy and frightened and fully alive? I tried to push those thoughts away, all the while letting them swirl in my head. My feelings for him were already dangerous enough. I couldn't let things get worse. I shouldn't even dare to call him a friend. Because he wasn't, not to me.

  He spoke in a near whisper. "Once we leave Woodcourt, Lord Endrick will put a target on your back. You'll fight against him, or fall victim to him. The Coracks might be your only defense. And I will still consider myself your protector. I always will. Come with me, Kes."

  Kes. Not Kestra, or Princess. And words spoken with such warmth, such tenderness, they threatened my last remaining defenses. If my heart and my mind could not agree, how was I to know which to follow?

  I'd follow him. I wanted to be in his world, in his life. In his heart.

  His gaze shifted to my lips. My breath lodged in my throat. He leaned in.

  And I heard the words, "This won't work."

  The voice that pushed Simon away didn't seem like my own, though I knew I'd said it. I knew what he was offering, and the temptation of it was nearly overwhelming. But I had to reject his offer, reject him. Reject us. I blinked away the sting in my eyes. "If we find the Olden Blade in the pit tonight, then Tenger should keep his agreement to return my servants. That's all I want."

  Simon's face fell. "Are you sure?"

  I was no longer sure of anything, except that I had just ruined a moment I might never get back again. With more reluctance than I wanted to admit, I pushed his hand away and left the room, alone and aching with regret. He grunted in irritation, but followed, letting me stay ahead of him until we were in the gardens.

  Sir Basil was near the entrance and smiled when he saw me coming. "My lady Kestra. My wife to be."

  His manner was more reserved than it had been last evening, I noticed. Perhaps Endrick's reminder that he had agreed to kill me on our wedding night weighed on him. Poor thing.

  "How lovely you are tonight," Basil continued. "I cannot imagine any possibility of you looking more beautiful, not even tomorrow, on our wedding day."

  From behind us, Simon swatted at the branches of a bush to get past us, making sure we remembered he was there.

  As if I could forget. Even at a distance, his presence was still making me as nervous as I'd felt alone with him in that room. Simon's hand was calloused from years of hard work and managing a sword, yet it had felt soft as a glove against my skin. I wished I had not stormed away from him. I wished that had not been necessary.

  Somehow, my expression with Basil remained calm. "Lord Endrick wanted the wedding tomorrow night, and, as you know, we must obey his demands." That poured some ice on his fire.

  "Yes, of course." He gestured at Simon. "Your protector can wait out here. We'll be safe in these gardens alone."

  "I have orders to stay with her." Simon spoke through gritted teeth. "Lord Endrick's orders."

  "You can stay here at the entrance," I said to Simon. "That will satisfy Lord Endrick." Then I smiled up at Basil. "I'm safe with you, I'm sure."

  Simon's anger could be felt as we passed, but I didn't dare give him so much as a casual glance back. Even if Basil did try something, Darrow had taught me a few tricks wherein I could disable him for weeks, if necessary.

  I took Basil's arm and he led me down a path of tall hedges, thick enough that Simon would not be able to spy on us or eavesdrop. If Basil had been more clever, I would have thought this was planned.

  "When my father told me I'd be married to a Dallisor girl from Antora, I confessed that I was less than enthusiastic," he began. "Dallisor women are usually quite ... sturdy."

  "What type do you prefer?" The question sounded flirtatious, but I truly was curious. "Dainty girls?"

  Dainty, weak little ladies who are unable to defend themselves against a spitting snow beetle, much less someone who had been ordered to kill his new wife? I didn't say that part.

  "I prefer you, whatever type you are," he quickly said. "I genuinely do, Kestra. Now that we've met, I would have chosen you, even if you had not been chosen for me."

  How nice for him.

  "And that's also the reason why I cannot marry you." His tone changed. Nervously, he looked around and I realized he had deliberately chosen this quiet path. Perhaps he wasn't the cleverest person, but he wasn't stupid either. "More importantly, Kestra, you cannot marry me."

  I leaned back, playing innocent yet again. "What are you talking about?"

  "There are plans for you after we're married, dark plans of Lord Endrick's doing and even your father."

  "He's not my father, not anymore."

  "I understand, in ways I wish I didn't. I've come to beg you to leave Woodcourt tonight, in secret. Get as far from Antora as you can." He swallowed hard, forcing his words out. "As far away from me as you can. For your own safety, you must go. I'm so deeply sorry."

  I studied his face, for the first time seeing him as an actual person. Simon had been right about him, but for the wrong reasons. There was more to Basil than a first meeting suggested. He had honor and a fair amount of courage.

  I asked, "If I leave, what happens to you, to Reddengrad?"

  His eyes darted away, which was probably my answer. "We have some time, I think. I will play the role of the abandoned groom, an innocent victim of your deception. Lord Endrick cannot punish me for that."

  "You don't know Lord Endrick."

  Basil shrugged. "I'll leave here immediately afterward, claiming a broken heart and embarrassment to my country. Then I'll hurry back home and warn my people of war. We'll prepare for it as best as we can until Lord Endrick invades."

  "Why are you doing this for me?"

  The corner of his mouth lifted. "Because there is a small chance of Reddengrad winning that war. If we do, I'm going to find you again, and ask you to consider marrying me out of choice, not because it's been forced upon you."

  I shook my head. "You don't know me, Basil."

  "I'll always hope for a day when I can know you better, and you can know me. But for now, I've left a horse in the copse of birch trees outside the gates of Woodcourt. Get to that horse tonight and leave as fast
as it will carry you away. Then one day, perhaps you'll consider a future with me. After what I've had to agree to, that's all I dare ask of you."

  I smiled at him. "Thank you, Basil."

  He lifted my hand in his, kissed my fingers, and then stepped away as if an invisible force had pushed him back.

  "Let me take you back to your protector," he said. "Night is soon approaching. You have much to do before dawn."

  Yes, I did. More than he could possibly know.

  For most of the walk back to my room, Simon was so angry he was unable to speak. He did manage to spit out a few semi-coherent words about how he was my protector, but then I replied he was only pretending in that role until we escaped Woodcourt, and after that I was on my own. He didn't like that, but he had no response to it either.

  Or, at least, not until we were on the landing of the stairs near my room. We stopped there, where he used his body to back me into the corner. "You really won't tell me what happened when you two were alone?"

  "I don't see how it's your business. It has nothing to do with our agreement."

  His eyes flashed, but his voice remained calm. "Are we friends, Kestra? Are we at least that much?"

  "Are we?" I countered. "If it came down to saving me tonight, or finding the Olden Blade, which would you choose?"

  "I could ask you a similar question. You need the Olden Blade to save Darrow. Would you sacrifice me to get it?"

  "That's not the same thing!" I said. "You're asking me to choose between the lives of two people I care about!"

  Despite the seriousness of our argument, a mischievous grin escaped him. "So you do care about me?"

  "Stop it. This isn't a game."

  Except maybe it was. Gerald had called it a traitor's game. He believed I was capable of winning it. How wrong he was.

  "You're right, this isn't a game," Simon said. "Or it isn't supposed to be. The consequences of what we are doing here are far too real."

  Without answering, I took his arm as we started to walk again, and then Simon said, "You have secrets, Kes, that's obvious. Can't you trust me with them?"

  "Do you trust me?"

  His eyes fixed on mine. "Yes, I do trust you."

  We were at my door, a welcome barricade between us. I took the handle and twisted it. "I wish you wouldn't. You shouldn't."

  Then I left him to enter the room, firmly shutting the door behind me. I leaned heavily against it and closed my eyes, trying to absorb all that had happened over the past hour. Trying to forget how it had felt to be near Simon, his hand caressing my face, my neck, chilling me and warming me in the same touch. Every step he came closer, the bands of energy connecting us had tightened; my heart had pounded, then stopped. If it started again, that was only because I wanted to live another minute in his arms, losing myself in his gaze, flush with the desire to feel his lips on mine. With him, I became alive as I'd never been before. In a different life, or even in another time and place, I would have fallen into his eyes and let myself drown there.

  How things might be different now if I had not walked away from him. I wondered if he was still on the opposite side of the door. And what if I opened it and told him my secrets, and that I knew his too, and could we just start there? Or start over? Or go back in that room where he had almost kissed me, because I was sure that if we could return to that moment, I wouldn't walk away.

  Or would I open this door and he'd be gone?

  "You're back earlier than I'd expected."

  When I opened my eyes, past Trina's curious stare, I saw a dozen different dresses laid out on the bed. In the center of them was an elaborate silver dress with red beads and fabric rosettes. It was the finest dress I'd ever seen. A wedding dress, obviously.

  "These were all sent up while you were gone." Trina brushed a single finger over the dress nearest to her, as if anything more might ruin it. "A strange dowry, considering your father must know you won't live long enough to wear all of them."

  "Don't call him my father." I had no father.

  On top of the dress lay a silver necklace with a small ruby dangling from it, one that coordinated perfectly with the gown.

  "I was told that used to belong to--"

  "My mother." Suddenly, that necklace was the only thing I saw in the room. One of my earliest memories was sitting on her lap, rolling the ruby around in my fingers until she worried I'd break the clasp. Then I'd leaned into her, watching the way the gem caught the light, casting red glimmering shadows wherever it reflected.

  I picked up the necklace and held it out for her. "Would you help me?"

  Trina smiled and went behind me to tie it on. "I loved my mother too. I wish I had something of hers."

  "What was she like?" I asked.

  Trina shrugged. "I barely knew her when she was alive. But I know she watches me from the heavens, and I hope to make her proud of me one day."

  I smiled back at her as she finished with the necklace. "I'm sure you will."

  With that finished, Trina pulled out the trousers and tunic I had worn the previous night. "I assume you'll want to wear these tonight, instead of the wedding dress. I wish you had a set for me."

  "You wear them. They'll fit you better anyway."

  She held the clothes up against her frame, then her smile quickly soured. "Is this a trap? Why are you being so cooperative?"

  "This isn't cooperation. It's desperation. I just want to get out of here."

  She didn't believe me. "Once we're in the pit, you're going to try to find the Blade first. Is that it?"

  "What difference would that make? Even if I found it, I can't touch it."

  "No, but maybe you know a Halderian who could. Do you think Gerald could become the Infidante?"

  I laughed, and meant every snort of it. "Gerald? He's no warrior."

  "True." Trina tilted her head as though in thought. "But there will be a new Infidante soon!" She began changing, obviously eager to be finished with servants' clothing, her expression brightening. Perhaps she was imagining holding the Olden Blade. "Surely you can feel a little excitement."

  My feelings were anything else. "Are you serious? Everything I've known and believed is changing. Tonight will be the most dangerous night of my life. Don't ask me to be excited about that."

  "But can't you be excited to turn the tide against Endrick?" Trina continued, making it worse. "I'll tell the Coracks how important your help was. They won't accept you at first, maybe never, but I'll try to change their minds. Or do you only care about one specific Corack's feelings?" The corner of her lip curled. "Do you think helping us will make him love you?"

  "Hardly. By the time this is over, he'll want nothing to do with me."

  While Trina finished dressing, my attention turned again to the wedding dress, almost too beautiful for words. I'd never have married Basil, even without the threats of the Coracks hanging over me, but since our conversation in the gardens, my opinion of him had improved.

  And then there was Simon, someone about whom I could not keep the same opinion for two hours together. Whatever he felt for me, or thought he felt, was bound to change too.

  A maid came to the door with a meal for me. Trina scowled when she saw it on my writing table, asking where hers was.

  "With the other servants, obviously," I said, then softened. "But we can split this."

  I pulled the tray toward me and broke half the bread, which I gave to her. While she ate that, I ate exactly half of the fish and cheese, and nuts that would've been imported at prices high enough to feed Rosalie's entire family for a month. Then I ate my half of the bread while she finished the food on the tray. Neither of us was as full as we would have liked, but we weren't starving either.

  After we finished, she leaned back in her chair, letting her attention wander around the room. It settled on the knife I'd had with the ivory handle. It marked me as a Dallisor, and would have to stay behind. After a pause, she asked, "When did you start carrying a knife? After the Halderians kidnapped you?"
br />   "Darrow gave me one during the escape. I've never gone without one since."

  She sat up straight. "They held you for four days. What happened during that time?"

  Why did she keep asking about this? Did she revel in hearing how terrified I had been, how a part of me still felt as if I had never escaped? Or was she trying to help me finally leave the kidnapping in my past?

  When it became clear she would wait indefinitely for my answer, I said, "They drugged me here at Woodcourt, bound and gagged me, and carried me out in a box that felt like a sort of coffin. Or, at least, that's where I woke up. A couple of air holes were drilled into it, but other than that, I couldn't see out. I only knew I was on a wagon and that no matter how loud I screamed into the gag or cried, nobody released me. At the end of that first day, a man named Thorne met the wagon."

  "Thorne?" Trina asked. "The same man who was at the inn?"

  "Yes. He ordered my release at once. Then he told the others that I was a guest and was to be treated with honor, but they wouldn't listen. That same night, a group of Halderians dragged me from my bed and stuffed me in a sack that they dumped in a river. Two women assigned as my protectors pulled me out, but by the second day, the Halderians had gotten to those women. I overheard their plans to kill me after dark, so the first time they turned their backs, I ran. It was a full day before they found me again, miles away, but they put me into the same box as before and sent word to Thorne that he had until dawn to explain why they should keep me alive. If they didn't like his reasons, they would burn the box. Shortly before sunrise, Darrow rescued me. I don't know if he did it on his own, or if Thorne helped me escape."

  Trina had been frozen while I spoke, and it took several blinks to bring herself back to the moment. "I can't begin to imagine how terrified you must have felt." She pressed her brows together. "But why would Thorne help you if he was responsible for taking you in the first place?"

  "You and Simon have been helping me. And your motives are far worse."

  She took that in without emotion. "You're helping us too, Kestra. I know you never wanted to and that you're only doing it to save your servants, but I have to ask something: Do you feel the same about the rebellion as you did the first night?"

  I didn't feel the same about anything as I did that first night. My whole world had turned upside down and seemed to be spinning faster by the minute, out of control.