Page 154 of Scorched Earth
Rising up on her toes, she kissed Lydia’s cheek. “Please come back to my son, Your Grace. He needs you.”
56KILLIAN
How anyone believed that Dareena was Lydia was beyond Killian, because every time he looked at her, it was screamingly obvious she was not.
And yet they did.
As the Teradale ballroom filled with nobility all intent on meeting the new Falorn queen, it was very clear to Killian, who dutifully stood at Dareena’s elbow the entire time, that everyone was seeing exactly what they wanted to see.
Even Hacken.
His brother fawned over Dareena, who, at his mother’s suggestion, said little. He introduced her to men and women who’d known Dareena her entire life, none of them seeing the decade of age difference behind the heavy war paint that was starting to bleed in the extreme heat.
“Dance with her,” his mother hissed. “You look miserable.”
“I am miserable.” But he dutifully took Dareena onto the dance floor, then pretended to teach her steps that she knew as well as he did, the watching lords and ladies smiling and laughing in delight.
It was with the greatest relief to both of them when he finally delivered her to Lydia’s room, where Gwen and Lena had resumed their duties. His mother, who’d taken on the role of Lydia’s lady in waiting, disappeared inside with his mentor, who started cursing about skirts the moment the door was shut.
Leaning against a wall, Killian drew in a steadying breath. Lydia would already be aboard the ship and heading to Revat, which was a short journey. Sonia was with her, and he knew the Gamdeshians would do everything in their power to protect her. Yet he still hated not being at her side, because it was where he was meant to be.
“Killian?”
He lifted his head to see Finn standing in the corridor, expression full of uncertainty, and he silently cursed himself for forgetting to track his young friend down. “I’m sorry, Finn. I meant to find you earlier, but…”
Finn shrugged. “It’s fine. I had other business.”
The other business was likely theft of some sort, and Killian made a note to have the boy turn out his pockets later. But not now. They’d been too long apart for him to start with criticism. “Sonia took care of you?”
“Sure. Seldrid lets me have the run of his palace. He’s got fewer rules than you.”
“Probably because he doesn’t know the half of the trouble you get into. Come on.” He slung an arm around Finn’s skinny shoulders, heading toward the kitchen. “Let’s get something to eat.”
The kitchens were still warm and scented with food from the banquet, but only a few servants remained cleaning up. Killian knew all of them, and they smiled and pretended not to notice as he piled a plate high with cuts of meat left over from the banquet. He started to pour a glass of milk for Finn, then eyed the boy for a moment and gave him half a glass of ale. “Don’t tell Sonia.”
The corner of Finn’s mouth turned up as he took the glass, and then he followed Killian to the scarred table the cooks used to prepare food and sat down on a stool.
Finn sipped at his ale, then asked, “Where’s Lydia?”
“In her room,” Killian answered, taking a mouthful of ale himself. “She’s tired.”
The boy cast a sideways look at the servants, then leaned his elbows on the table, voice quiet as he said, “That’s Dareena. Those puffed-up nobles might not be able to tell the difference, but I ain’t fooled by a bit of face paint.”
Killian blew out a slow breath of air, not certain whether he was anxious or relieved that Finn had seen through the act. “How can you tell?”
“By the way she looks at me,” Finn replied. “Or, more accurately, doesn’t look at me.”
Killian’s skin prickled ever so slightly, and he flicked a glance at the servants, but they were all on the far side of the room.
“Also because Dareena stomps like she wants to murder the ground beneath her feet, and Lydia—”
“Glides,” they both said at the same time, and Killian gave a soft laugh. “I told Dareena as much.”
He eyed Finn for a long moment, noting that the boy had grown taller in the time they’d been apart, yet somehow skinnier. “You cannot tell. Not anyone.”
Finn snorted. “You think I can’t keep my mouth shut? I’m a collector of information, not a spender of gossip.”
Seldrid had clearly had an influence on him. “Sorry for the offense.”
