Page 199 of The Poison Daughter
She shakes her head and blows out a breath. “I knew the handwriting on the letter last night was familiar. I just couldn’t place it. If you hadn’t been such a brute and dropped it in the fire, I could have compared it.”
I stare at her, trying to follow her thinking. “You thinkGavenis Rochelli?”
She frowns and tilts her head to the side. “I don’t, but it’s not out of the question that he could somehow be involved. Gaven has unique access to the comings and goings of my family and is intimately aware of how things function in Lunameade. He has to be. There is no corner of the city he doesn’t know, and he can come into our home, stand outside the doors where we talk about family issues, and attend all high house events as my guard.” She pulls her hair over one shoulder and twists it around a finger. “Honestly, I don’t really see it. He’s loyal to my father first.”
“If that was true, wouldn’t he rat you out for all your sneaking around?” I ask. “What if your father attacked you? If what you’re saying is true, Gaven wouldn’t protect you.”
She stills, her eyes flashing with something unreadable. “How do you think I’m so certain?”
It’s as good as a confession, though I can tell from the look on her face it’s not one she’s happy to part with. It’s as I suspected. The scars on her back are from her father. What I didn’t suspect was that I would feel this disquieting, creeping rage in my chest, or that it would be directed at her bodyguard as much as her father.
“Don’t give me that look.” She holds up a hand. “It’s been a very long time, and I prefer your intense loathing to pity.”
I consider everything she’s said. If Gaven is working with the rebels, then he would have been paying extra close attention before the explosion at our engagement dinner. Maybe that’s how he noticed I heard the shout outside to take cover and reacted just before the explosion. But if that were the case, why was he so suspicious of me? That skepticism was instant and genuine. Harlow wasn’t aware enough to pay attention to the performance.
Harlow presses the heels of her hands to her eyes again and sighs. “How long until noon?”
“A few hours.”
She lies back, sets the note on her bedside table, and tugs the blankets up over her shoulders. “I could probably rest for a bit and then be ready to travel back today.”
“No. It’s a rough journey and we could be set upon by a horde again. We’ll wait until it abates,” I say.
“It might be a while,” she says.
“Then it will be a while,” I say. “Are you always this impatient with yourself?”
She rubs her temples. “I’m always this impatient with the pain.”
I’ve never met an ailment I couldn’t ease in some way. This helplessness is new and frustrating.
She rolls onto her side. “I really can push through if we need to get back. I’m used to ignoring it when it’s not that bad. My mother has always said I bear it better than most.”
I tilt her chin up so she’ll meet my eyes. “Just because you can bear your pain better doesn’t mean you should have to. We will wait until you’re well. It takes as long as it takes.”
She closes her eyes and sighs. I rub her back gently and focus my magic on releasing the tension in the muscles of her neck and shoulders.
After a few minutes, her breathing is soft and even again.
Elvodeen’s healing blessing has granted me one of the most practical magics that exists, but I’ve never really appreciated bringing someone relief until now.
A soft knock on the bedroom door startles me. I take one last look at Harlow’s soft, sleeping face before climbing out of the bed and tugging on my robe.
I open the door and squint into the morning light pouring in through the hall windows.
Gaven has abandoned his post and stationed himself at the end of the hall. Kellan stands in his place.
He smiles brightly. His face is all of the softness absent in Harlow’s. Though his hair is dark like hers, his eyes are lighter, and the skin around them crinkles when he smiles. Everything about his expression reads genuine, whereas Harlow’s expressions are masked unless she’s annoyed.
Obviously it’s by design. The full smile of straight white teeth and the jolly demeanor are meant to open doors and lull people into the sense that Kellan is just a normal guy instead of the head of the city guard with a manipulation blessing from the Divine of Malice.
That type of magic is frightening to even the strongest of men because it’s about strength of mind and how easily you can be influenced.
“Can I help you with something? Harlow is still asleep,” I say.
“She’s feeling better?” Kellan asks.
I wave a hand. “She’s feeling surly and her countenance is biting. So yes, I’d say she’s well on her way back to herself.”
