Page 59 of The Warrior Priest
“So you thought you’d become an assassin’s apprentice? If you wanted more money for spying?—”
“It’s not about money, Rhys! I had to leave Tilting to…to discover who I am without—” I almost added ‘you’ but it wasn’t fair to blame him for my immaturity. That was my fault for allowing myself to be consumed by him. “Ineededto grow up,” I said again. “I was too naïve.”
“You didn’t just grow up, Jac. You changed, and not just in appearance.” His gaze slowly moved down my length, leaving behind a trail of heat in its wake. It was fortunate he wouldn’t be able to see my fierce blush in the night. He cleared his throat. “You never would have argued with me before. Not like this.”
I quieted my voice to match his. “That’s the problem, Rhys. Ishouldhave argued with you more. But being around you affected me to the point where I wasn’t sure whether the opinions coming out of my mouth were mine or yours.”
“Of course they were yours,” he scoffed. “You disagreed with me on faith, about the god and goddess, about belonging to the order.”
“I never disagreed with you about the order. We had different ideas on religion, that’s true, but I never said you should or should not belong to Merdu’s Guards. If you think I did, then you’re not remembering correctly.”
“Oh, right,you’rethe one with the faultless memory, so of course you’re always right.”
His bitter tone raked over me like nails across skin.
He swore again and dragged his hand down his face. When the hand dropped away, it was as if it removed a mask, revealing a man looking much older than his twenty-eight years. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t come here intending to shout at you. I am sorry, Jac.”
Tears stung my eyes. His tender apology hurt more than his angry words ever could. I didn’t trust myself to speak yet, so merely acknowledged his apology with a lift of my chin.
“Have you killed anyone for her?” he asked.
“Not yet.”
“But you plan to.”
“That’s what she trained me for.”
“Then I was right. You have changed. You’re not the girl I knew.”
“I’m not a girl. I’m a woman.”
“You think I haven’t noticed?” he rasped.
My throat tightened. I dipped my head so he couldn’t see the tears shining in my eyes. His disappointment was like a weight on my chest, pressing down.
“If you’re here to assassinate your uncle?—”
“We’re not. We’re not here for work. Giselle wanted to see an ill friend.”
“I know you were watching his house earlier. The others told me where they saw you and it’s just around the corner from where he lives. Stay away, Jac. Please. He’s been looking for you, presumably because the pendant talisman didn’t work as he thought it would.”
“I’ll be fine, Rhys. He wants me alive. He won’t hurt me.”
“If you think that, then Giselle has taught you the wrong lessons. Be careful. Losing you once was hard enough.” His voice cracked. I thought he’d finally give in and hug me, but he must have held on tightly to the last vestiges of his anger because he simply turned and walked away. He did not look back.
I turned away, too, and released a shuddery breath. That was over, thank Hailia. Now that we’d met, we wouldn’t speak again. There was no need for our paths to cross, and I wouldn’t be in Tilting for long. Our friendship was in tatters and that was how it would remain. It was for the best.
Knowing that didn’t make it any easier.
I cried myself to sleep.
It felt somewhatlazy to use the same method to get into the governor’s office as last time, but it really was the easiest and best way. With my hair tied up and tucked under a boy’s cap, and my face smeared with soot, I wasn’t questioned as I traipsed alongside the cleaners just before dawn. This time I knew which office belonged to my uncle.
I waited for the other cleaners to leave, then opened the same locked casket on the desk where I’d found the document with King Alain’s seal. This time it held only money. I doubted Uncle Roderic would have hidden the pendant anywhere else in the office, but I continued to search. It wasn’t in the desk drawers, however, including under the false bottom in the lowest one. There were no locked boxes hidden in wall cavities behind the hanging pictures, and nothing up the chimney. I scanned the bookshelves, checking for any sign that one or more of the books were moved more frequently than the others, but the shelves were entirely devoid of dust all the way along. If there was a hiding spot behind them, the only way of knowing would be to remove each one, and my fingers were covered in soot now. They’d leave marks.
One book caught my eye, however. The title on the spine was familiar. I pulled it off the shelf to see the front cover. It was red leather with gold lettering and a sun and moon motif in the center. I’d seen the symbol before on a book in Giselle’s collection in Upway.
The gold on the cover glinted in the weak dawn light coming through the window. The city was about to wake. It was time to leave. Time to ask Giselle why she kept me from reading the book each time I showed an interest in it.
