Page 58 of A Court of Masks and Roses
Trace makes a sound of disagreement.
I throw up my hands and turn to him. “It doesn’t matter. It was just a fight, Trace.” I pick up a branch and start stripping it of its leaves. “And just a kiss. I imagine it wasn’t your first—of either. Don’t make an epic battle from a few glancing blows. Would you even bring the bloody thing up again if I were Luca?”
He crosses his arms. “What we did wouldn’t have happened with Luca. Either part.”
No, it wouldn’t have. I rather doubt Luca would have started that fight at all, much less ended it entangled in Trace’s lips. “I’m not going to Everett. If that’s where this conversation is heading, save your breath.”
“I’m just asking that you listen. The decision is yours.”
Fine. I raise my brows expectantly.
“It was five years ago that Viva captured me. When I escaped, I knew that my death would serve my family better than news of my capture and questioning. So I ran.”
I drop the stripped branch back on the pile and put up a hand. “Trace. Drop it. I’m not running away or doing anything stupider than usual. I’m—”
“Shut up and listen. This isn’t about you.” His voice is hard and shadows play along the angle of his jaw. A trick ofthe fire. When I look into his eyes, though, there is no steel there. Just resolve and fear in equal measure. I shut up as he asked and wait for him to break the silence. He draws a breath and stares into the flames. “For the first two years, I ricocheted from one master to another, the harsher the better. Trying to get tougher, stronger, faster. Then I went to the Monastery of Qilar, in part to train, in part to test myself, and in part to pay penance for my weakness.”
I start to nod but halt myself, lest I interfere with his words.
“Meanwhile, Bahir’s power continued to grow. We’d suspected he could manipulate magic for years, but the trail of blind devotion and self-righteous hate that he sowed in his wake took even pessimists by surprise. It was time to return to the duties I was born to fulfill, even if I had to fulfill them from a different role.”
“Wait,” I frown. “Born?”
“Yes,born,” Trace snaps. “I needed to learn where the true threat to my kingdom and my people lay. And how to stop it.”
The implication of Trace’s words brushes my hackles, shifting and turning as it tries to arrange itself in my mind. “So you joined Firehorn’s Royal Guard?” I say.
“So I joined Firehorn’s guard,” Trace echoes in unapologetic agreement. “To keep an eye on the Dansil king and the magic-wielding Bahir, who was ensnaring Delta in an ever-tightening noose.”
My breath catches, as though a draft horse struck my chest. “Princess Raza isn’t your lover, is she?” I’m only half-surprised at my words. Of all the things to ask just now, this is by far the stupidest.
“No,” Trace agrees, and an owl hoots her assent as well. “Raza is my sister.”
Stars.Prince Rune.I knew as much many moments ago, but hearing the confirmation... I stand. Pace. Stop. Sit backdown. Feed more wood to the fire that I’m bloody sharing with Everett’s long-dead crown prince. Except he isn’t dead. He’s a spy. “That night outside the Wandering Dog—I was right when I said your hatred of Wil was personal, wasn’t I?” I say finally.
Trace shrugs. “I know the damage an heir’s recklessness can do firsthand.”
“And the prisoners...” I sort through my memories, examining my conversations with Trace anew. “Since you—your kingdom—has been watching Bahir, did you know he uses Viva Sylthia to collect whisperers? When I said the Holy Guard was expecting prisoners, did that mean something to you?”
“I did not know about Bahir’s connection with Viva Sylthia, no. Did not even suspect it until you mentioned Samuels—and even then, I had little reason to think you were correct.” He stretches, cracking his back. “But yes, I did know that Bahir’s guards round up whisperers for forced labor. I’ve helped several escape to Everett over the years—it was the best I could do.”
My memories of watching Trace disappear into the forest at night take on a new light. I thought he’d been trying to find his lover. But now... Trace is Prince Rune. Of course he’s been doingsomethingat the palace these past years besides protecting the king of Dansil. I idly wonder whether, like me, he was supposed to have not interfered.
Right. I blow out a long breath and brace my forearms on my knees. “All right, Trace. Rune. Why did you just tell me all this?”
“Because we need to stop Bahir before he strangles Dansil and starts in on Everett. Because there is something about you that threatens him. You may be the key to peace.” Trace swallows and I know there is something he’s not saying, thoughwhat he does utter is potent enough. “I’ve tried asking and intimidating and demanding. And now... now I’m begging you. Showing you what I’m willing to risk for your trust and for your consent to go to Everett.”
My chest tightens, but I’m back on familiar footing now. I’m a tool, like I’ve always been. Except now I’m a tool with enough potential for Trace, forPrince Rune,to find it useful. I summon my own stony expression and still my face. “Thank you. That was... helpful. I will think on your request and give you an answer once I report my own—and only my own—findings to my king. You must agree that’s fair, as one spy to another.”
“Kali—”
“Kalianna. My name is Kalianna.” I move away from the fire and curl onto my sleeping pallet of sweet pine.“Let us get some rest while we can.”
The following day,Trace and I finally near the edge of the North Wood, where the forest opens to the palace’s back courtyard.
“Wait.” I hold out a hand to stop Trace’s advance. The familiar smell of sap mixing with the spices of the palace’s latest deliveries tickles my nose in welcome. I close my eyes to draw a deep breath and feel my muscles tighten instead. Something feels wrong. It’s too loud. Not shouting or banging or anything in particular—just an increased volume of the regular, everyday din that I’m used to hearing from this spot.
“I don’t hear anything unusual,” Trace says when I share the observation.
