So I Married a Sorcerer (The Embraced #2)

He did remember, she was sure of it, but for some reason he didn’t want to tell her. She hunched her shoulders, tightening her grip on her cloak. He was definitely the most secretive man she’d ever met.

She eyed the fake plaits, her hands itching to jerk the silly hat off his head. But if she touched him or anything that belonged to him, she might have another vision. Would that be so bad? It might give her more clues to figuring out his secrets.

His gaze returned to her, and the heat in his eyes had cooled to clear amber. “Your song was for your sisters then?”

“Yes.”

His mouth curled into a teasing smile. “For a moment I thought you might be mourning a lost lover.”

She scoffed. “I grew up in a convent. I haven’t seen that many men.”

His eyes flared with heat again. “A man would need only a glimpse of you to know you are a treasure.”

Her heart lurched. “I-I should be going now.” She took a few steps toward the entrance to the cabins. “Enjoy the stars and open sky.”

“And the embraced moons,” he said quietly as she retreated another step. “Today is my birthday.”

She halted. Of course. He was Embraced. The two moons aligned twice a year, once in the spring and once in the fall, always around the same time.

Did he have no one to celebrate with? He looked so alone, standing there gazing at the moons. She opened her mouth to say her birthday would be at the Autumn Embrace, but thought better of it. Being Embraced was still a crime in Tourin, so she should keep it secret. “I hope you had a good day.”

He glanced back at her and smiled. “It has been one I shall always remember.”

Did he mean because of her? Goddesses help her, why did she want to be special to this man? Was it simply her curiosity that drew her to him, or was it more? “So how old are you now?”

“Twenty-six.”

Seven years older than her. “I’m—”

“Nineteen,” he finished for her.

“How did you know?”

He shrugged.

He wasn’t going to tell her. The man was simply too annoying. “You said those Eberoni naval ships wouldn’t know who I was or that I had been captured. So how did you know the Tourinian navy planned to take me? How did you know who I am?”

He shrugged again. “I can’t say.”

She narrowed her eyes. Blast this man and his secrets.

“Let me ask you something.” He stepped closer. “Why do you keep fainting? Are you suffering from some kind of illness?”

She shrugged. “I can’t say.”

His mouth tilted up. “Stalemate. It appears we both have questions we want answered. Perhaps I should warn you. I’m quite good at detecting secrets.”

“Not as good as I.”

He stepped closer. “You intend to compete with me?”

“I intend to win.” Her heart pounded as she reached up and yanked on one of his plaits. A vision of a black horse flashed across her mind, then disappeared, leaving her with an amusing sight. His hat had spun around sideways, leaving plaits to dangle in front of his face. It looked so funny, she laughed.

He grabbed his hat to right it. “What the…?”

“There goes one of your secrets. Fake hair.”

“It’s real,” he insisted.

“Real horsehair, I would say.”

With a muttered curse, he tossed his hat on the deck. “How did you know?”

She grinned, relishing her victory. “Your hair should be under your scarf, not over. And I doubt your hair is actually black. The whiskers along your jaw are a golden brown. Even the hair on your chest—” She stopped with a wince. Good goddesses, she was saying far too much.

He leaned closer to her and lowered his voice. “Have you been studying me?”

Warmth invaded her cheeks. “I’m naturally a very observant person.” She lifted her chin. “But that hardly matters, for I have won the competition, and you have been exposed. You might as well take off the mask, too. Why bother to hide your handsome—” Her face blazed hotter.

His eyes smoldered like molten gold. “You were saying?”

Saying far too much, she was. Whenever his gaze grew heated or he lowered his voice, she became too flustered. She waved a dismissive hand. “I only assumed that you might possibly be handsome. I’m a kind person, so I naturally give people the benefit of the doubt.”

His eyes twinkled with amusement. “That is kind of you. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” She cleared her throat. “The point is your disguise is no longer necessary.”

“I still need to conceal my identity.”

“Why? Everyone knows you’re Rupert.” A sudden thought occurred to her. “Oh, that’s not your real name, is it?”

The muscle in his jaw twitched again.

She grinned. Victory again! Another secret uncovered. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

“You are Gunther’s sister,” he muttered. “I cannot possibly trust you.”

She huffed. “I don’t know him. And I don’t want to know him. I heard he murdered my younger brother.”

“You share his blood. You’re from the House of Grian.”

Her hands curled into fists as she clutched her cloak. “Sister Fallyn told me what my father did. He was a monster. My brother is a monster, too. I want nothing to do with them!”

Rupert gave her a dubious look. “Don’t you want to be a princess?”

“No! I just want to be with my sisters. Why can’t I go where I want to? Why can’t I control my own destiny?”

He stiffened, a look of shock crossing his face.

She took a deep breath. It didn’t help matters to lose her temper. She needed to remain calm. “You control the wind. You control ten ships now and all the people on board. You can whisk away an entire navy. Surely you understand the value of being in control.”

He turned away, his hands clenched into fists.

She’d touched on a nerve, she was sure of it. “Why on Aerthlan would you want to control me?”

He shot her an incredulous look. “Since when can I control you? You were told to stay belowdecks, but you sneaked up here to hide behind those barrels.”

She blinked. “Y-you noticed that?”

“I notice everything about you, Brigitta.”

Her skin prickled as a strange feeling swept over her, a feeling that she was somehow connected to this man. In the past and in the future. But who was he? And why did he say her name as if he knew her?

She had to find out more about him. And there was one sure way to do it.

Steeling her nerves, she planted a hand upon his chest. A wave of images struck her hard, and she reeled back from the intensity. Goddesses help her, it was as if she were there. On a battlefield. Swords slashed, blood sprayed, screams rent the air. Horses shrieked, axes swung, and the smell of blood and mangled limbs nauseated her.

Horror flooded her senses, along with a stab of grief so fierce, her knees buckled. As she collapsed, her heart ached for Rupert. For one thing was certain.

All this horror and grief had been his.





Chapter Nine

“Brigitta!” Rupert grabbed her as she crumpled in front of him. What the hell? He swept her up in his arms.