Page 213 of The Nightmare Bride
He surveyed me, a long, lazy look that ended with a smile. “I’ve surprised you.”
“You’ve shocked me. I mean...what was that evenlike? Living in the forest?”
“Uncomfortable,” he said. “And wet, and surprisingly demanding. We couldn’t drink the water, so we had to harvest the rainfall. Not to mention hack apart the forest for firewood. But food was the biggest challenge. Things were easier when there was still traffic along the road to waylay, but now the situation’s getting dire. If the liberators don’t find a new food source soon, they’ll have to go elsewhere.”
“Oh. But...why not just move to town, then?”
He gave me a knowing look. “Because. Their leader prefers anonymity.”
I thought back to Kyven’s pocketing of the Wanted poster last night. At the time, I’d written that off, mainly because he’dactedlike it didn’t matter. But I should’ve realized. “You know him, then? This...bandit chief?”
“He and I have met,” he said, and I had the distinct impression that he was enjoying this.
“What’s he like?”
“Oh, very mysterious. Very...bandity. And very committed to playing the hero. I can’t tell you much more, because I wouldn’t be any sort of friend to him, if so.”
I pondered that. “Canheresist the nightmares, too?”
Kyven held my eyes for a heartbeat, then another. “As far as I know, only I can do that.”
Bits of the puzzle he posed locked together with a click, backed by the soft thrum of rain. “Sothat’swhere the rumor comes from, then, about the brigands not needing chains. From you. Of all people. But...Vick. You said you’ve known him less than a year, which means you must’ve met him in the forest, right? Isthatwhy he and Lunk don’t wear the royal livery? Because they’re not actually from Hightower? Because they’re nothing more than common thieves?”
His answering smile nearly blinded me. I’d pleased him, I could tell.
“Wow.” I trotted the revelations around in my mind. No wonder Vick’s accent didn’t match Kyven’s. It sounded stiff because it was fake, because Vick hailed from my own back yard. At least Lunk’s lisp papered over any clues to his origins. At leasthehadn’t lied.
“Don’t tell them I told you,” Kyven said. “Lunk in particular would be sorely disappointed to know you no longer think of him as overtrained and equally overpaid.”
A strangled laugh worked free. “Okay. But...you’d been back. To Hightower. Right?” He must have. Eliana had met him in the capital just months ago. In Burdock Street, whatever that was.
“I spent time there, yes. Off and on.” Kyven studied me from beneath his lashes. I couldn’t tell if he was playing coy or dissembling. Or both. “When it suited me.”
Gods among us. This story almost disproved Eliana’s letter in and of itself—she’d made it sound like the crimes in the capital had been continuous. I almost blurted as much outright, then yanked it back.
There was something in the way Kyven was looking at me. A challenge, almost. An expectation. One puzzle piece I was still failing to grasp.
I strained toward it, but it felt like trying to do long division in my head. The solution promised to fall into place, only I couldn’t juggle the moving pieces long enough to get there.
But while I was many, many things, I wasn’t stupid. That I knew. If I demanded answers, Kyven would only evade, like when I’d asked about Vick, or the Wanted poster. But if I waited, combing through every unguarded word he said, I would piece it together, whether he wanted me to or not.
“This explains so much,” I said, leaving him to his secrets. I’d have the rest out of him, and soon. “But...what does this mean, exactly? For us? How does it affect the next month?”
One bronze brow arched. “Are you asking what I want from the rest of our marriage?”
“I... Yes. I think so.”
He chuckled and made a fruitless attempt to straighten his hair. “Something very different than you do, I’m sure.”
“Which is?”
He heaved a breath, as if squaring for battle. “I want...everything. To experience all life has to offer. Which means that for as long as I’m your husband, I’d like to actuallybeyour husband. In every sense. I want to live it. Breathe it. Map it from the inside until I can draw it in the dark. I want to sink into it. I want to bury myself inside you.”
At my startled look, he laughed. “Not likethat, lioness. Well, no, that’s absolutely a lie. I do want to bury myself inside you.Like that. But that’s not precisely what I mean, in this case. It’s more like...”
“Authenticity?” I offered, in a feeble attempt to recover. “Is that what you’re saying?”
His mouth snicked up. “Just so.”
