We went to my quarters and Narian stayed in the parlor while I 					changed for dinner, although he would not accompany me to the meal—we may have 					had luck with my mother, but my father would not be so receptive to the news of 					our betrothal.
   				When I reemerged in simpler garb, he was in an armchair, 					contemplatively rubbing his once-broken wrist, his face growing progressively 					more troubled. I glanced around the room, wondering what could possibly have 					happened to change his temperament in the short time we had been apart.
   				“Narian? What is it?”
   				He shook his head, then ran a hand through his thick blond 					hair. “Your mother would make an excellent interrogator.”
   				I couldn’t help it—I laughed, harder than I had in a long time. 					“I hardly think she’s the type!”
   				“Find it as funny as you like,” he said with a smile. “But I 					don’t know what I was telling her!”
   				“Well, do you regret it?” I asked, and he flashed through a 					myriad of emotions: confusion, deliberation, discomfort at having been so open 					with her, then, at last, acceptance.
   				“No,” he said, with a touch of wonder. “I…I understand it now, 					I suppose—why you talk to her. Why you trust her. I wanted to trust her.”
   				I walked over to him and sat in his lap, wrapping my arms 					around his neck. “I don’t think I’ve ever said this before, but it’s time I did. 					I’m in love with you, Narian.”
   				“I love you, too,” he said, the corners of his mouth flicking 					upward. The words weren’t so difficult, after all.
   		 			 				CHAPTER TWENTY:
   				KEEP YOUR SILENCE
   				SHASELLE
   				It was 						days before Cannan came to see me. Perhaps he was trying to smooth 					things over, banish the crimp I had no doubt put in their plans. Perhaps he was 					busy with his usual duties—I knew he’d been with Queen Alera during her 					much-discussed tour of the city, though my family and I had stayed home, 					secluded and sheltered. For once I hadn’t minded. I was scared.
   				When my uncle did come, it was at an odd time—after dinner, 					after nightfall. My mother hesitantly answered the door, ushering the patriarch 					of our family into the entryway.
   				“I apologize for calling on you at this late hour, Lania,” he 					said, coming straight to the point. “But I would like Shaselle to come with me 					to the barn—I need to discuss something with her, related to the horses.”
   				Without further explanation, the captain waited for a response. 					My siblings and I could hear them from the parlor, and I wondered if Mother 					would dare to question him. The outcome was predictable.
   				“Of course,” she said. “I’ll fetch her for you.”
   				Mother came into the parlor, her brow puckered. “Shaselle, go 					with your uncle. The rest of you, off to bed.”
   				Celdrid and Ganya groaned, but they nonetheless moped to the 					staircase with the rest of my siblings while I went to the front door. Before 					chasing her brood up the stairs, Mother cast a worried glance at Cannan, then 					tossed her shawl over my shoulders.
   				I went with the captain across the property and into the barn, 					trying to ignore the utter blackness of the night and the cold, whipping wind. I 					was too old to be frightened of such things. He closed the door behind us, 					blocking out some of the sound of the brewing storm, and lit a lantern that hung 					on a hook on the wall. Nervously, I approached Alcander’s stall, reaching out to 					rub his silky neck.
   				“Everything seems fine,” I said with a shiver, knowing 					perfectly well the horses had nothing to do with Cannan’s reason for bringing me 					outside.
   				“I’m fairly certain where you got that dagger, Shaselle.” 					Cannan walked toward me, pushing his cloak from his broad shoulders. “Why don’t 					you tell me about it?”
   				I swallowed uneasily. “It—it was Papa’s, remember?”
   				“No, it wasn’t. Tell me how you came to have it.”
   				I stared at him, afraid to answer, afraid to remain silent. He 					considered me, then laid his cloak around my shoulders. It was still warm from 					his body and enormously comforting.
   				“I don’t intend to punish you, Shaselle. I’m trying to protect 					you. But I need to know the truth.”
   				With a shaky breath, I confessed, “It was hidden in Papa’s 					study.”
   				“And were there others?”
   				“Yes. Many.”
   				Cannan absorbed this, nodding his head.
   				“Sit down,” he said, motioning to a stack of hay against the 					wall. I obeyed without a word, not sure what would happen now. He stood before 					me, dark, tall and grave, but not threatening. He had promised he would protect 					me; he wouldn’t hurt me.
   				“You weren’t supposed to find those weapons—no one was. Have 					you told anyone?”
   				I shook my head, my mouth so dry I wasn’t certain I could form 					words.
   				“Is it possible anyone saw you with them?”
   				“No, I was alone. It was late at night.”
   				“Did you disturb the rest of the armaments?”
   				“No. I left them in place and again covered the entrance.”
   				“Good.” Cannan noticeably relaxed in light of my answers. Maybe 					my mistake would not create problems for them, after all. “One last question. 					Can you keep silent on the issue?”
   				“Of course,” I said, mortified that he might think 					otherwise.
   				“And can you stay out of it?”
   				The horses snuffed and pawed the ground in the quiet. I sat 					stupidly, my lips parted, not sure how to answer. Could I forget what I’d 					discovered and never wonder about it again? No. Cannan crossed his arms, 					guessing my thoughts.
   				“Then ask me what you want to know and I’ll tell you.”
   				“What?” I blurted, flabbergasted by what he was offering.
   				“I cannot risk you getting hurt, Shaselle, and your curiosity 					cannot disrupt what we have planned. If giving you information will keep you 					from disrupting things, I will do so.”
   				“How are you doing it? Where are the weapons coming from? How 					are you getting them into the city?” Questions tumbled from my mouth, in no 					particular order, for my mind was in chaos.
   				Straightforward as ever, Cannan expounded. “When London 					regained consciousness in the spring, he and I recognized the need to move 					quickly if we were to establish a stash of weapons. As soon as he could travel, 					he left the city to entreat aid from the neighboring kingdoms. Men from Sarterad 					and Emotana began leaving weapons in the forest for us, and London’s men took 					them into the palace through the escape tunnel we used to remove the royal 					family at the time of the Cokyrian siege. The Cokyrians, other than Narian, do 					not know of the tunnel’s existence, and he has neither closed it nor been 					monitoring it. In the night, we used servants within the palace to move the 					armaments out in delivery boxes, whereupon they were taken to Steldor, Galen and 					Halias. Select Hytanicans on the work crews hid them inside the buildings during 					the reconstruction work. Everything has been put in place.”
   				“What will you do now?”
   				“We wait.”
   				I stood up and paced, agitated. “What are you waiting for?”
   				“The right time.”
   				“To do what exactly? Tell me that.”
   				“To take back our kingdom.”
   				This was a non-answer, one that gave me no information I could 					not have deduced on my own.
   				“When, Uncle? I want to know when. I can—”
   				“You don’t need to know when, Shaselle. You’re not part of 					this.”
   				He was watching me, arms still crossed, and I stopped pacing, 					pulling the cloak tighter around me.
   				“But I could be. I’m not just a 					cu 
					     					 			rious child, Uncle, I can do things. I could help. 					If you would just tell me what to do, I wouldn’t be a problem!”
   				The wind rattled the barn door, and Alcander whinnied, making 					me jump.
   				“You’re scared of the wind, Shaselle,” Cannan said, shaking his 					head. “You’re a young woman, and this is dangerous. This is a game you’ve not 					trained to play, a game you could never handle.”
   				“That’s not true,” I argued, resentment bubbling inside me at 					his denigrating words.
   				“I’m sorry, but it is. If we’re discovered, every one of us 					will be executed before we even have a chance to revolt. And if we do revolt, 					there’s a very strong possibility we will die in the fighting, whether we’re 					successful or not. In case you’ve forgotten, a number of good men have already 					died.”
   				His words hit me hard, breaking through my bitterness. Forced 					to contemplate a hangman’s noose, my zeal faded.
   				“I don’t want any of you to die,” I murmured, a tremble in my 					voice.
   				He shrugged. “We’re not eager for that end, either. But someone 					has to take a stand. Someone has to speak for Hytanica before we let her die.”
   				Exhausted and mentally battered, I asked, “What am I supposed 					to do?”
   				“I’ll tell you.” He was surprisingly sure; then again, Cannan 					had always been decisive. “No matter what happens to us, you have a family that 					loves you, and a full life ahead of you, a life that can bring you joy. Let me 					arrange a second dinner for you with Lord Grayden. He has approached me and 					inquired after you several times.”
   				“Lord Grayden? But I spilled wine all over his father!”
   				He smiled wryly. “Sometimes men see spirit in a woman. And 					sometimes men don’t like their fathers. Now, do we have an agreement?”
   				I thought over the things he had told me, the prospect of 					victory and glory, the possibility of punishment and death.
   				With a slow exhale, I breathed, “Yes.”
   				Cannan escorted me back to the house with the promise that he 					would arrange something with Lord Grayden in the next few days. I assured him I 					had no plans, returned the cloak and bade him good-night, then dragged my feet 					up the stairs and to bed, thanking the Lord my mother was not waiting up for a 					better explanation than the one Cannan had provided.
   				By the following morning, I’d given almost more thought than I 					could stand to my talk with the captain. I’d racked my brain for a way to safely 					and discreetly involve myself in the revolt plot, but with no one keeping me 					updated and no concrete information about what needed to be done, it was 					impossible. As insignificant as it made me feel, I forced myself to let go of 					the notion and resign myself to the agreement I had made with my uncle. I needed 					to behave, stay out of the fray and think about how I could apologize to Grayden 					for ruining his father’s fancy clothes.
   				I ate breakfast with my family, then Mother asked Dahnath and 					me to do some shopping. The younger girls needed materials to practice their 					sewing, and she thankfully had not heard a whisper of my latest 					misadventure.
   				We left shortly thereafter, each carrying a basket, though I 					doubted we would be buying enough supplies to fill them both. My beautiful, 					slender, auburn-haired sister was wearing a deep red cloak, while I’d swung 					across my shoulders a brown one that served its purpose. I could have dressed in 					the Queen’s finery and still looked homely next to Dahnath.
   				Despite the chilly weather and perpetually gray skies, the 					Market District was quite busy, and Dahnath nodded politely to those she knew. 					But when she pushed her hood back and unpinned her wavy hair, fussing with it 					until it framed her face, I knew who she had seen.
   				It was mere moments before Lord Drael, tall and handsome with 					his dark blond hair and stubble, appeared at my sister’s side, taking her hand 					and giving it a kiss.
   				“My lady, I didn’t expect to find you here,” he said, raising 					the color in her cheeks. “I’m a very lucky man.”
   				I cleared my throat, drawing Drael’s attention, then extended 					my hand. He stared at me for an amusing moment, then chuckled and took it, 					kissing it as he had Dahnath’s.
   				“Good day, Lady Shaselle.”
   				“Good day, my lord.”
   				Dahnath scowled at me, and I took the basket from her hands. 					“I’ll just finish our errand, shall I?”
   				I walked down the cobblestone street, past the bakery, the 					spice-grocers, the apothecary shops, the jewelers and the tailors until I 					reached the dry-goods shop, pushing through the crowd with little difficulty. I 					picked out what I found to be attractive from among the multitude of fabric 					choices, most of which would not have suited Dahnath’s preferences, but she had 					decided it was more important to spend time with her betrothed. Thankfully, 					Mother had entrusted the money to me, and I approached the shop owner, giving 					him enough coins to cover the cost.
   				Not sure what to do next, I stepped back outside, spotting my 					sister up ahead, still flirting with Drael. Would I be expected to behave thus 					when I was betrothed? I hoped not; the thought made me shudder.
   				The baskets, both of which I had filled, were growing heavy. I 					held one in each hand and glanced around for a place I might sit until Dahnath 					was ready to go home. I was about to dodge across the street when my load 					lightened, one of the baskets having been taken away. Thinking a thief, I 					shouted and swung around, arm outstretched, and my nails scratched someone or 					something.
   				“Enough of that!” a man yelped, and the moment my eyes fell on 					him, I groaned.
   				“Saadi, what do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.
   				“Well, I thought I was helping you. 					As it turns out, I’m bleeding.”
   				“No, you’re not!”
   				I stepped closer to inspect the tracks on his cheek where my 					nails had made contact, and gently lay my fingers on the scratches. He winced 					and took my hand, holding it away from his lightly freckled face. Acutely aware 					of his touch, I blushed. He was adorable, as much as I’d fought against 					admitting it. His pale blue eyes examined me for a moment, confused by my 					reaction, then he grinned.
   				“So…sewing?” he asked.
   				“For my sisters.”
   				“Oh. How many?”
   				“Four. And a brother.”
   				“Full house. Rava is my only sibling.”
   				My mood dipped at mention of his sister. He put a hand gently 					on my back, guiding me to the side of a building and out of the way of 					traffic.
   				“We don’t get along, if it helps,” he added, aware of my 					feelings.
   				I laughed. “Do siblings ever get along?”
   				“I think so. At least, most siblings who argue will apologize 					and enjoy each other’s company until the next fight comes along. I don’t 					remember ever enjoying Rava.”
   				“That’s sad,” I murmured.
   				He grinned again. “Well, would you 					enjoy her?”
   				“I don’t know her, other than as an 					enemy. Maybe I’d like her if we’d grown up together. Why don’t you get along 					with her?”
   				His expression sobered. “Rava is who she is. Being older than 					me and of more importance, she was raised differently and never felt the need to 					have much of a relationship with me. That’s not to say she doesn’t care about 					me—she does. I think she’s even proud of me, in her own way.” He touched the 					officer’s insignia tacked to the shoulder of his black, asymmetrically cut 					uniform jacket. “I fought to achieve this rank, not an easy task, for men are 					not generally placed in command positions. We’re too hotheaded, as a group. 					Still, she has no trouble stepping on and over me, which you can probably 					appreciate.”
   				“Perhaps, 
					     					 			” I said, though his words confused me. Certain 					activities were not deemed appropriate for me since I was a woman, but for the 					most part, I did not resent my lot in life. But Saadi was strong, intelligent 					and extremely capable. In Hytanica, he would have been the pride of his family. 					How could he have been overlooked in Cokyri? Had Rava been the pride of his 					family instead?
   				“This place. It’s so different from Cokyri,” he continued, 					content to accept my simple answer.
   				“Not that different,” I replied with a short laugh. “We eat and 					work and sleep.”
   				“That’s not what I mean.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s how people 					look at me. It’s not the same at all.”
   				“People hate you because you’re Cokyrian. Did you expect to 					take pleasure in that?”
   				“That’s not it, either.” He thought for a moment. “It’s 					strange, the level of fear in the eyes of your women. Belligerence I expect, 					from everyone, but the fear primarily radiates from the women.” He shrugged, 					suddenly self-conscious. “But what do I know? Listen, I haven’t even seen half 					of what there is to see in Hytanica. You could show me one day.”
   				“You seem to be everywhere in this 					city,” I scoffed. “There can’t be much left for you to explore. Or have you just 					been following me around?”
   				“Well, you’re the most interesting feature of the city I’ve 					come across.”
   				He smirked, and I gave him a sideways glance. Was he admitting 					to stalking me? Then he chuckled.
   				“As long as I’m assigned to oversee the city, we’re bound to 					run into each other. I would be lying, however, if I denied that I look forward 					to our encounters.”
   				Heat again flooded my face. Saadi was making me uncomfortable. 					I was in danger of liking him too much.
   				“That reminds me,” I said. “I owe you for a lock.”
   				I glanced to see that Dahnath was still talking to Drael. He 					was holding her hands, preparing to depart. Knowing from the general length of 					their goodbyes that it would be at least five minutes more, I removed a coin 					from my pocket.