“The one where you go around digging up everything you aren’t meant to know, hearing what you’re not supposed to hear, forcing everything to the surface that should be hidden.” Ash twisted around to look at her accusingly. “All the while deceiving me about yourself and your purpose.” He spun back and flung the brush into a basket with a clatter, startling the mare from her dinner.
He exhaled heavily. “It was bad enough thinking you were going to be wasted on some rich, pompous old man. But I’ve read your book.” He crossed his arms and turned to glower at her. “You’re not in there. Not as a bride. Not as a Broadmoor. You don’t exist. Yet you stand in front of me now, playing the concerned lady. This morning you were dressed and riding like a man; last week you played at being a teacher. The question is, who will you be tomorrow?”
She lowered her eyes. “I’ll be your friend.”
“I have friends. None of them gives so little and takes so much as you do.” He advanced a couple steps and took the tray from her hands. “You can leave now.”
He’d known for days she was lying—maybe from the beginning. If Quinn had suspected her of spying or being connected to the 130 men around them, Ash must have put a great deal of effort into trying to prove him wrong, finally breaking into her room to clear her name. Yet he still didn’t know who she was.
And she couldn’t tell him.
“Good night, Sagerra Broadmoor,” he said. There was a finality in his voice, an unspoken Good-bye.
He only wanted the truth, and as her friend he deserved it.
“Sage,” she whispered.
“What?”
She squared her shoulders and forced her eyes up to meet his. “My name is Sage.”
His dark eyes held hers for several seconds, waiting, but she couldn’t find her voice.
“And what comes after Sage?” he prompted gently. “Not Broadmoor.”
“Fowler,” she whispered. “My father was a fowler. Lady Broadmoor is my mother’s sister. They took me in when he died.”
“And now?”
She dropped her gaze. “I apprentice with the matchmaker. I’m her assistant.”
“How does she pay you? By getting you a rich husband?”
“No, of course not.” A deep flush crept up her neck to her hairline. “I don’t want to get married.”
“Ever?”
“Ever,” she replied firmly, peeking up again.
Ash’s eyes shifted at a noise behind her, and he lifted the food to show Lieutenant Gramwell. “I’ll be right along, sir,” he said. “I was just thanking Lady Sagerra, as she was so kind to bring this.” He bowed to her over the tray, seeking to meet her eyes one last time.
“I hope you’ll ride with me tomorrow, Sage Fowler,” he whispered.
34
DUKE D’AMIRAN READ the hasty dispatch from Baron Underwood with widening eyes: Prince Robert was in the escort group. The message also confirmed what they’d learned from the courier: General Quinn’s own son was leading the unit. Inwardly the duke kicked himself for not questioning their prisoner about Robert, but he’d assumed the man would know nothing useful on that front. It didn’t matter, however, D’Amiran knew now. Both the king’s son and nephew would be under his roof in a matter of days. He couldn’t have planned it better.
Originally the plan had been to let the Kimisar in the south kidnap Prince Robert and carry him through the Jovan Pass so General Quinn would send a significant part of his force in pursuit. Those Kimisar would’ve headed north and back through Tegann Pass, and then both passes would be sealed, trapping many Demorans on the wrong side of the Catrix Mountains. Divided thus, the western unit of the Demoran army would be easier to defeat with his own forces now gathering. Then the Kimisar were free to ransom the prince back to Tennegol. Or kill him—D’Amiran didn’t care.
The duke called for Geddes and updated the captain on the situation as he wrote a letter to his brother at Jovan, instructing the count to send their Kimisar allies through the pass without the prince. D’Amiran had assumed it was Rewel’s incompetence that made his brother unable to find Robert, but it was because the prince wasn’t, in fact, with General Quinn in the south. For all the thrill of knowing the crown prince was coming straight to Tegann, it was a slight complication. If the Kimisar didn’t have a kidnapped Robert with them as bait, the general would send fewer of his soldiers in pursuit, but D’Amiran was too excited to worry about that.
“The prince is traveling under a false name,” he told Geddes. “So that may mean the escort perceives a threat, which is all the more reason for us not to frighten them. I won’t have them panic—my prizes may be damaged. In any case, I want a look at young Quinn. They say he’s just like his father, though I’d hardly consider that a compliment.” It was morbid curiosity that drove him there.
D’Amiran folded the letter and held the stick of wax to the candle on his desk. “I also wonder why the general assigned his own son to this mission.”
“Do you think it’s to spy on you, Your Grace?” Geddes asked.
Those coded letters—still untranslated—told him General Quinn trusted no one. “Undoubtedly. But he could also be trying to get the prince back to the capital, which may mean they have informants we need to weasel out. At any rate, we can’t tell Captain Huzar about Robert. When you patrol out to the pass next, say only that Robert is on his way. Once we have the prince, perhaps we can force the Kimisar to support us just a little more before we hand him over.” He might need them now, when his army faced Quinn’s.
“I’m not sure we can trust them, Your Grace,” the captain said, running a thumb along the scarred edge of his ear.
D’Amiran chuckled as he sealed the parchment. “I know we can’t. But this famine and blight is in its third year. Kimisara will trade anything for food, and so they will do what I want.”
Geddes brushed his brown hair down over his ravaged ear and held out his hand for the dispatch. “I’m prepared to retrieve your prizes myself.”
The duke shook his head as he handed the letter over. “Relax, Captain; in this position we cannot lose.”
“What of the soldiers escorting the brides?” Geddes asked, tucking the letter into his jacket.
“They’re of no concern. At the moment they keep me from having to bring the women here myself. If things go badly in the south before we can march, there will still be time to turn on the Kimisar here.” He chuckled. “We’ll be heroes for saving and returning Robert. Maybe we’ll even let the escort soldiers help, though perhaps young Quinn will meet with a fatal accident. If nothing else we can stretch them for information. Leave them unmolested for now.”
35
MOUSE LAY ON his cot in the barracks, too full of thoughts of Starling to sleep despite his weariness. What had possessed him to push her like that? He tried to tell himself it was only because she would never be comfortable until she could be herself. In truth, it was the strain of his own deception that made him take foolish chances. He’d almost ruined everything, hadn’t realized how much he’d be losing until the moment he told her to leave.
But she hadn’t left.