Page 121 of Shadows and Roses

Castien blinked, then covered his reaction with a small shrug. They were not together. He cursed himself for a fool but also wanted to laugh. His heart beat faster. "Why not? Though you likely see more of her than I do these days." Because he was an absolute idiot.

"During the day, perhaps, but— ah, I won’t press." He waved a hand. "Will you be joining the council meetings? She seems to rotate all her Escorts through that room."

Castien frowned and ran a hand through his hair. "I don’t think I’d be of any use in there. She hasn’t asked me." And probably never would. She didn’t need the advice of an overreacting moron who couldn’t be bothered to look out of his own ass even once. The blastedConsort’s ringhad sat beside his bed for weeks and he thought it was only out ofpity? Had he truly believed she allowed him to remain an Escort if she didn’t care for him? Or that she wore her court mask around him because she was disgusted by him, not because he’d hurt herwith every day he avoided her? The lightness in his chest felt heavy again.

"Are you alright?" Damon was frowning slightly at him.

Castien scrambled for a response. "Fine. Sorry. Sometimes… I get lost, still." He winced. Using his torture as an excuse was shameful. He diverted, "Have you made much progress?"

Damon gave him a strange look. "Slowly. The nobles are completely useless. It's hilarious listening to them discuss things they have no controlover, though."

"Damon," Jerrl interjected. "We should get to the gates, the new recruits will be arriving."

"Oh, yes." Damon turned to Castien. "Come with us. You can see our progress firsthand—we’re expecting a large batch of recruits today. Anais will be pleased."

It sounded like a useful thing to do, so Castien agreed. More useful than the complete fool he’d made of himself.

They turned a corner, exiting the rebels’ barracks.

And ran into the Queen. Anais.

Damon bowed, greeting her with a jaunty grin. "We’re off to greet the five hundred new soldiers, my lady."

Castien slid back a step with his bow.

She didn't spare him a glance. "Captain, go with them. I’d like you to oversee this."

Jerome frowned. "My Queen. I should stay by your side."

"I’ll be fine, Jerome. Vern and Thakris will both be with me. Go."

"Yes, my Queen."

Their words hardly had meaning to him. He stared at the ground until they were out of sight.

"Something the matter between you and the lady?" Damon asked as they walked.

"No." The word barely escaped his lips.

His friend raised an eyebrow. "That's always meant yes. Does it still?"

Castien stiffened, earning himself a sharper look.

"Are you afraid of her? Has she done something to you?"

"Leave him be, Damon," Jerome said.

"If she's hurt him—"

"She hasn't," Castien said. But he had. The spear through his heart every time he saw her was not getting easier to pull out. The longer he delayed confronting her, the deeper he cut them both.

He cleared his throat and asked, "Who’s leading the recruits today?"

Damon frowned but let it go. "Two captains from the western division, Saren and Darteius. Dar isactuallythe fifth son of a baron. He probably laughed himself to tears when he heard I was given a title."

It didn't take much to distract his friend. He tried to concentrate around his aching heart. "You have nobles in the rebellion now? How’s that going?"

"A few. Most barely have titles—children of knights or less-favored, late-born whelps. The highest ranking is probably the third daughter of a Count, and she was all but banished from her family two years ago. Every one of them has good reasons for their disgruntlement."

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