Page 114 of A Crown of Tears and Treason
Many possibilities, no answers. I couldn’t risk Zandyr dying to tell me.
I had to figure it out. Soon. Before Banu and Valuta managed to actually murder me.Ifthey would try again. The only threat so far that could be connected to them had been the razorback.
That I knew of.
“We need to rehearse and get it right,” Leesa went on. “The entire Capital will be watching you. Every breath, every flutter of your eyelids, every word.”
I tore my gaze away from the guards and grinned at her. “Not daunting at all.”
“Sorry.” She cleared her voice. “All I meant to say was this is important.”
“I know.” I picked up the chalice in the correct position, right palm gripping its bejeweled stem, no fingers touching the cup or the base; a royal hold, for the steady hands meant to lead the Clan. “That’s why I’ve been practicing.”
Leesa sighed in relief. “You will amaze them all.”
I would have settled for not embarrassing myself. I still had trouble in crowds. So many small movements, scents, noises. Unkind whispers and unbelieving stares. They overwhelmed me.
Hours later, I had a headache from reciting the Blood Brotherhood vows thirty-three times and a twitch in my thigh from successfully dodging Adara’s blow. I sipped another cup of Goose’s special resting tea and looked out the veranda.
The guards were still there. Silent and menacing. Goose would have to distract them tomorrow while I and Adara snuck out. While we were gone, Leesa would practice her dancing in my room, close enough to the thick drapes that the guards knew someone was inside.
I downed the tea and walked up the stairs.
The breeze that flowed through the windows soothed my aching muscles. The flimsy nightgown I had on was a thin little piece of white fabric that I no longer had trouble filling out. In fact, it was getting tight around the hips. Goose really was an excellent cook. I wrapped my robe tighter around me, reveling in the way it billowed behind me.
Maybe the Blood Brotherhood wardrobe wasn’t–
I opened the bedroom door and froze. Zandyr sat on my windowsill, one knee bent, his other leg draped over the edge. The moonlight haloed around him, making him look like the shadow from my dreams.
He rose with feline grace and the illusion broke just in time for me to get over my shock.
“What in Xamor’s name are you doing in my room?” I asked.
“Fair’s fair, menace. You came into my bedroom.” The words dripped from his lips like honey.
He was as gorgeous as ever, but there were dark circles underneath his ice eyes, and his cheekbones stood out more.
He looked just as I felt–exhausted.
“Because I needed answers,” I said. Partially true. I’d felt an overwhelming need to see him alive and breathing.
“I need an answer, too.” He strolled through my room, examining each little trinket and wall painting. His gaze didn’t so much as venture my way. “How have your last few days been?”
I crossed my arms in front of my chest. My cheeks shouldn’t have heated up so fast–or at all.
Three days. We kissed and then he vanished for three days. “Busy. Yours?”
“Constant discussions about the skirmish at our borders. Recovering from the ritual. But I expected that. What I hadn’t anticipated–” He clenched his jaw and finally looked at me. “–was not being able to sleep.”
I sighed. “I haven’t been able to either.”
“That is unfortunate.” He stepped closer. “I was hoping it was a painful side effect of finally receiving my magic. Since when?”
“Since…” My muscles seized as I realized the last time I’d felt rested was when we’d slept in the same bed. “Damn.”
His face tightened. “My thoughts exactly.”
Traitorous, unreasonable body. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
