Page 47 of Thorn Season
“My silence”—I adopted a lilting, weighing tone—“in exchange for what? I don’t desire riches.”
“I can’t imagine you would, Lady of the Most Affluent Province in the Kingdom.” He smiled wryly around the faux title, but I wouldn’t coax the words from his mouth. I would wait until he offered them freely.
After a beat, he ambled forward. “A favor, then. That’s the currency at court, isn’t it?”
“Afavor,” I echoed.
“Any favor that is within my power to grant.” He held out his hand, an offer and request, his muscled forearm bridging the gap between us.
I bit my lip as if considering his suggestion. Let him stew for five glorious seconds. Then I spread my serpent smile wide. “Very well, Ambassador. You’ve convinced me.”
I reached out and his hand swallowed mine, as warm as the cocoon of his specter that night in Vereen.
“I hope you’re better at keeping tothisagreement,” I said, the breeze ruffling my skirts. “You wouldn’t like making an enemy of me.”
I went to pull away when Keil’s grasp shifted, became that of a gentleman. My power tingled to the surface again, spreading soft heat within me, as he lifted my hand and paused just shy of his mouth. “Oh, I think I’d enjoy making an enemy of you, Lady Alissa.” His voice was low and tempting, his breath tickling myskin. “What an interesting dance that would be.”
Then he smiled—slow, satisfied—and held my gaze as he pressed a defiant kiss to my knuckles.
As I journeyed back through the palace, my specter humming and my face strangely hot, I wondered if perhaps we’d both won that round.
14
“Blackmailing an ambassador is the most foolish thing you’ve ever done,” Tari said. Though I hadn’t exactly agreed to her staying, she’d swept in with a pot of drinking chocolate, sprawled beside my luggage case, and refused to get up. I was torn; though I didn’t want her involved in my mission, she presented an invaluable comfort in this harsh, foreign place.
Previously occupied by generations of Paines, my chambers glistened with marble and polished silver, each cushion on the canopy bed perfectly plumped, each curtain pleated in crisp white lines. I’d been so nervous about spilling the drinking chocolate that I’d gulped it still scalding.
Now I transferred my garments into the dresser drawers, throat fuzzy from the burn. “Don’t be absurd. I’ve done far more foolish things. Besides, it’s not blackmail. It’s an agreement.”
“Agreements don’t have threats attached.”
“I have no desire to reveal Keil’s secrets, but it can’t hurt to have him in my debt—especially if he’s after the compass.”
Tari propped up on her elbows. “You really think his sister came here to investigate the increase in Huntings?”
“I don’t think she came for the lemon cakes,” I muttered.
“She could’ve been fleeing her country.”
“A Wielder fleeing from Ansora to Daradon?”
“It’s possible.” A grim smile. “Even Wielder-tolerant nations have their drawbacks.”
Tari would know. Bormia, a small, peaceful nation on the other side of Orren, had mounted little defense when the Orrenish began sending scouts across the border, seeking mercenaries for their war on Wielders. Tari’s father had been a renowned blacksmith, famed for his artistry with eurium, a rare, iridescent metal notoriously difficult to forge—and also the most damaging to specters. Eurium pierced so deep into the spectral muscle that Wielders were left incapacitated as their specters struggled to heal, making the blades invaluable in Wielder warfare.
Knowing his talent would attract Orrenish attention, Tari’s father had painstakingly acquired passage to Daradon, where he and his family may be labeled as sympathizers, but at least wouldn’t be targeted by Orrenish scouts.
I’d been deteriorating from blueneck fever at the time, so delirious that my specter had pulsed freely around me; when Father had heard of a Bormian physician who’d entered Daradon, he’d ridden through a snowstorm to beg her aid.
Having treated Wielders in Bormia, Tari’s mother, Jala Dehrin, hardly acknowledged my specter. And when I woke to the sharp attention of her willowy daughter, Tari had grinned and said,That’s nothing. I once saw a Wielder juggle shoes in his sleep.
“It’s not the same,” I said now, folding away a nightdress. “The seas around Ansora are rife with warfare. Keil’s sister couldn’t have journeyed here without a vessel equipped to withstand conflict. A vessel perhaps issued by the Ansoran empress herself.”
Tari’s mouth bunched to the side. “Isn’t this the empress who imprisoned her predecessor’s grandchildren so they wouldn’t threaten her rule? Would Keil really hand the compass to someone so...cruel?”
“I don’t know anything about Keil,” I said, even as I remembered the feel of his specter around my hand today. The confident, thrumming power contrasted with the gentleness of his pull. “But if the empress really sanctioned the mission to save his sister, I’m guessing his sense of duty toward her outweighs his knowledge of her cruelty.”
Tari was frowning, seemingly unconvinced, just as a knock sounded. Her expression brightened, and she darted to the lounge. “Maybe that’s the princess!”
