Page 12 of A Court of Truth and Thorns
“How many women have you kissed?”
He looks sideways at me. “I don’t keep notches, Kal.”
My face heats but I press the point. I need to know what’s normal, what importance people who are not me place on that touch of lips. “A handful? Ten? More?”
“Stars, Kal, couldn’t you have asked me that before I knew you were a girl?” He blows a strand of hair from his face. “Dozens. Maybe more. I’m considered quite talented by most ladies.” He shifts uncomfortably. “You weren’t looking for... er... advice, were you?”
“No!” The heat beneath my cheeks turns to flame. “I mean, I’m sure you’d have good advice but I think I’ll little need it.” I close my eyes. “That sounded wrong. I just mean, thank you—you’ve told me what I needed to know.” Dozens. No doubt, Trace has explored as many lips, women he’s tasted and forgotten.
A kiss is nothing to those who aren’t me.
8
KALI
“Lianna.” Wil lengthens his step to walk beside me. We are on day three of the hike, and if everyone else gets quieter by the step, the prince won’t stop talking. Usually Luca, Calvin, and Alexa bear the brunt of the chatter, but apparently today is my turn.
“The others are calling me Kal,” I say, glancing down at myself to ensure that my breeches and tunic haven’t suddenly morphed into an evening gown. They haven’t.
“Not all others.” Wil sticks his hands into his pockets. “Trace is calling you nothing at all, it seems.”
I grind my teeth. “Is there—”
“Are you my sister?” Wil asks, the question spilling from his lips as if held under pressure. “I thought Lady Lianna was my cousin. If you are her... Was it true, about the relation? Or just something my father made up for the courtiers?”
I rub the back of my head. I hadn’t considered the now-obvious question before, which means I must stumble through an answer on the spot.When all else fails, try the truth.“I am thebastard daughter of the late Lord Firehorn, your father’s younger brother. But any possible claim I might have to the throne has been legally dissolved, if that’s a concern.”
Wil laughs without humor. “It isn’t. In fact,” he waves his hand in the air, “consider it undissolved.”
“I don’t think you can just undissolve it, Wil.”
“I’m the uncrowned king of Dansil,” he says darkly. “I can do whatever I want.”
I snort.
A corner of Wil’s mouth twitches. “So youaremy cousin.”
“Bastard cousin, if you’d like to be technical.”
“I wouldn’t like to be technical,” Wil says. “I’d like to be family.” He gives me a shy sideways look. “If you’ll have a dethroned ruffian for a relation.”
A tickle of unexpected warmth spreads through me and I squeeze Wil’s shoulder, stopping suddenly with my fingers still digging into his flesh. “Wait. If I recall, when you thought Lady Lianna was your cousin, you spent a good deal of time positioning buckets atop her slightly ajar door.”
Wil kicks a stone down the path. “No wonder you never fell for it. Kal was bloody standing right next to me.”
I chuckle, letting go.
“You said you had a sister,” Wil says, his voice quiet now, and I realize that, unlike me, the little bugger gave this conversation a bit of thought beforehand. “The one you wanted to go back for when the coup happened. Can you tell me about her?”
I bite my lip, my chest tightening to suffocation. “Her name is Leaf.” The words hurt as they come out. “And she might be dead now.”
“She might be alive too. Tell me about her?” he says again. “I’d like to imagine I have a big family, even if just for a little while.”
The evening comes quicker than I expected, my voice slightly hoarse from speaking as we settle around a fire, Trace sitting as far away from me as the space allows. Despite the past days, the forsaken kiss still encircles my heart like a thorny collar, threatening to bleed me dry if I make a wrong move. I wonder whether he blames me for his forced return to Everett, since he was about to run when I waylaid him in the woods and unknowingly led Luca right to him. Every time I gather myself to ask, however, I find the moment not quite fitting.
Drawing a breath, I get up to feed the fire and find a place right beside Trace after placing the log in the crackling flames.
Trace rises. “I’m going to gather some poles to make a litter for Jasmine,” he says, looking away from me. “I don’t think she will be able to walk much longer.”
