Page 63 of Kingdom of Feathers

Lady Anneliese was going to marry my oldest brother, Caleb, before…

She left the sentence unfinished, but Basil understood perfectly. His own mirth dropping away, he laid a hand over hers. She stilled at his touch, her expressive eyes finding his immediately. Basil was aware of her guards behind the bench, shifting disapprovingly at the contact, but he ignored them.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “The whole thing must be very painful for you.”

Wren hesitated again, then extricated her hand to write another message.

For her, more than me.

Basil was silent. He knew better than anyone that tact wasn’t his strength, and he thought it better not to say anything than to fill the space with awkward words.

“What’s Sir Gelding like?” he asked eventually.

Wren shrugged.

“You don’t know much about him?” Basil guessed.

She nodded, then rubbed her slate clean. Basil waited patiently while she scratched out a longer message this time. His sisters would be amazed at how patient he’d become, he reflected. But he never found it frustrating to wait for Wren to write out her thoughts. She was always so absorbed in what she was doing, it gave him frequent opportunities to study her without being caught at it.

Today, he noticed that she was wearing a gown unlike her usual style, with long sleeves and quite a high neckline. She looked well, with no sign of illness or injury from her accident the day before. Her hair was pulled back from her face in many intricate braids, and the style was very becoming on her. He supposed her maids had time to do such an elaborate hairstyle when she spent a whole day hiding away in her rooms, he thought, still a touch resentful about his anxious night. But he couldn’t really feel annoyed, not when she was so clearly blooming with health.

She held out her slate at last, and he took it, glancing down at the words. The whole slate was covered, the letters small and tight.

All I really know is that Sir Gelding voted against attempting an invasion back when the war started. I found a record of that council meeting recently. He lives far south, but he and a number of others traveled to Myst for the council, and he was against full scale war.

“Interesting,” Basil mused. He laid the slate down. “Not my primary concern right now, though.” He pinned her with a hard look. “What’s this I hear about you falling into the pond yesterday?”

Wren grimaced, shrugging one shoulder, but making no move to pick her slate back up.

“Seriously, what happened?” Basil pressed. “I was frantic when I heard—the maid made it sound like you’d fallen to your death.”

With a sigh, Wren picked up her slate at last.

I’m fine. Not a big deal.

“Then why have you been hiding away in your room since it happened?” Basil demanded, aggrieved.

Pressing down on the slate with unnecessary force, Wren added to her previous words.

Because everyone in my life is overly protective.

For some reason, she cast an exasperated look from the swan still huddled at her side to those on the surface of the lake as she said it. But Basil wasn’t interested in her swans at that moment.

“You could at least have let me know you were all right. I was picturing all kinds of disasters.”

Wren shot him a surprised look, her hand hovering as if unsure what to write in response to that. Basil met her gaze steadily, not at all embarrassed to have her know he’d been worried about her.

It was Wren who dropped her gaze first, fidgeting with her skirt for a moment. Then, with a furtive look behind her, she angled her body so that it was between the slate and her guards, and scratched something in letters so tiny Basil had to lean right over her to read them.

It wasn’t an accident. Magic was involved. I would have drowned if my swans didn’t save me.

“What?” Basil demanded, and Wren sent him a glare as she scrubbed the words away hastily.

Remembering the presence of the guards, he dropped his voice. But he couldn’t keep the intensity out of his words—all the previous day’s alarm had returned with twenty times the potency. Someone had tried to kill Wren when his back was turned? He should never have left her side!

“Why did you say it’s no big deal?” he demanded. “Why pretend?”

With a grimace, Wren wrote another minuscule message, which she erased the moment he’d read it.

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