Page 103 of Shadows and Roses

“Don’t you dare!” She pointed a finger at him. "Between you and the healer, I’d never leave my room!"

He laughed louder. She sighed in disgust and turned back to the outdoors.

She was relaxed. Seeing her like this was too rare. Oh, there was sorrow in her eyes and worry in the tapping of her claws, but she was rested. Safe. For now.

Had it been poison, he would have ended the poisoner. Had it been a sword, he could have cut off the sword arm. This was no one’s failure. He knew that.

A few minutes later, he spoke again. "Damon is adapting quite well. I still think it was a bad idea." Thakris was keeping an eye on him now.

She made a flippant gesture. "You’re not supposed to be bothering me with court things. We need him, and he isn’t so terrible." A small frown creased her brow as she glanced back. "Unless you’ve discovered anything new?"

"Unfortunately, no. His captains were easier to assess, but any trace of his family has vanished. His sister could be anywhere—here in the court, even."

"Or long dead," she mumbled. "Let me know if you find anything. Otherwise, I don’t want to hear it again."

Fair enough. Damonwasnecessary. But the way he looked at her… Perhaps a few extra darts were called for. Sleep-tipped. Nothing too damaging.

Yet.

—

A week later, Vern approached the Queen’s study, a leather cylinder tapping his palm. Her door was open. He exchanged a brief nod with Jerome.

His eyes ran over her on habit. She was fully healed, had been all week, but he would never stop inspecting her.

When he handed over the cylinder, she glanced up. "Yelena lives. No losses." The assassination failed. He hadn’t agreed with that decision tobegin with, but the outcome could be worse. Their unit was undiscovered. Stirring more chaos in that already chaotic nation could have tipped the scales to outright war.

Anais nodded absently. Perhaps she regretted her hasty choice.

The second bit of news would be of more interest.

"Castien is recovering."

The scrolls slid from his hands, unraveling swiftly as she scanned the smaller one. The tiny hints of her relief were so clear to him—her eyes softening, the slight lift at the corners of her lips, her fingers gently holding the paper as though it were precious. She looked up, the joy in her face unhidden.

"He’s well," she breathed, the words almost a question.

He hated taking any spark of joy from her. "For Octavius’ question—we should insist he stay at the cabin for the summer. It doesn’t sound like he is ready, and the court will not help his condition."

The spark vanished. Were it anyone else, he thought she might have agreed.

She carefully rolled up the small scroll and set it aside. "It is his choice."

"Anais—"

"Steward. I said, it is his choice."

He wasn’t certain the Queen had spoken, but his chin dipped. "Yes, my Queen."

Part 3

Chapter 30

Castien

Castien stretched his legs at the end of his third lap around the cottage, his muscles warm with just the hint of fatigue. A drink and another lap, then back to his garden. Verdant flowers and greenery flourished in the crisp spring air.

He spotted an unfamiliar horse tied to a tree. The palace’s weekly messenger was due. Castien was eager for news, and equally interested in Octavius’ report of his condition.

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