The Traitor's Kiss (Traitor's Trilogy #1)

“I’ll have my cook prepare a gift for you to take back to your men.” D’Amiran smiled benevolently. “For your strength and patience.”


Huzar nodded once. “We will need both.”





41

MEN WONDERED WHY women loved embroidering, but Quinn suspected it gave them an excuse to focus away from a conversation, to avoid direct looks, as the matchmaker did now. He clasped his hands behind his back and waited for her to begin.

“Things are going well for Ash Carter,” she said from her seat by the fire. “Though I didn’t appreciate it when he disappeared with her for over two hours, attending page or not.”

Quinn shrugged in what he hoped was an indifferent manner. “She was never in any danger. We needed to cement her trust after keeping so much from her.”

“And that’s the real reason?” she asked, pursing her lips.

“I’m not sure what you’re implying. I felt obligated to let her see something important. That she follows Ash’s lead is critical.”

Mistress Rodelle continued speaking to her work. “I need you to promise me something.”

His shoulders tensed with the urge to cross his arms. “I can’t make blind promises.”

“This is a simple request for Sage’s safety.” The matchmaker’s evasiveness dropped as she looked up. “If she’s to be under your command, you must assure me that as with any other soldier, she’s able to defend herself.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You want me to arm her and teach her to fight?”

The wooden hoop lowered several inches. This was important to her. “I don’t want her helpless. It’s unfair to make her risk her life without some knowledge in how to defend it.”

Quinn closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s not a pleasant thought, teaching someone like her to kill.”

“The alternative is worse, Captain,” she reminded him.

“She’ll have to trust Ash more than she currently does.”

The matchmaker looked down at her work again. “I think you know exactly how to do that.”





42

SAGE’S THOUGHTS SWIRLED and tumbled like the leaves whipped about by wind from the coming rain. Every time she thought they’d settled, she caught sight of Ash, and her stomach fluttered. Until last night, she hadn’t realized how rarely Ash touched her. When the horse knocked her into his arms, she’d felt the briefest … something.

But he hadn’t even looked at her. And that something had vanished like smoke.

Ash had greeted her with his usual “Good morning, friend,” and shortly after setting out, he’d left her alone with Charlie. Sage didn’t blame him for being too busy to ride with her, but even with Charlie by her side she felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness. She told herself it was because Darnessa had said she had to ride in the wagon tomorrow since they would be arriving at Tegann and she had work to do. Even if doing so would be helpful to Ash and the soldiers, she didn’t look forward to it.

The train of wagons drew to a halt, and Sage looked around. Ahead she could see a haze sweeping toward them over the hills. The soldiers began lashing down the wagon covers and pulling out rain cloaks. Ash brought his brown mare up on her right. “The rain will start soon,” he said. “Captain wants you and Charlie to ride in the cart for the rest of the day. There’s no reason for either of you to get soaked.” He dismounted and raised his hands to her.

“I can get down myself,” she said, irritated. Nobody ever offered to help Charlie on and off his horse, and he was only nine.

“I know you can,” Ash replied. “But you’re in pain, I can see it. You’re not used to riding this much.” He continued holding his arms out.

Three days of riding had caught up to her. Sage tried not to flush at the idea of him noticing which of her parts were sore. With a resigned sigh, she gingerly swung her left leg over the pommel to dismount facing him. She reached for his hands, but they slipped past her arms to grab her waist. He lowered her to the ground between the two horses, making no move to release his hold. Sage became acutely aware no one could see them.

Ash looked down on her. “Better?” he asked softly. She nodded and reached for the bridle, but his hands tightened, and she looked back up, startled. He leaned closer. “You have to play the lady again tomorrow, don’t you?” he whispered.

The searching look in his dark eyes terrified her, and she tried to cover with a flippant response. “I’m afraid so. With a dress and everything.”

He ignored her tone. “I’ll miss our talks.”

Heat seeped into her cheeks. “Maybe when we leave Tegann, I can ride again.”

“I was hoping we could spend some time together in Tennegol. I could introduce you to my father. Maybe find you a teaching position there.”

“I don’t—I didn’t…” She took a deep breath to steady herself. He was so close, he filled all her senses. The scent of his leather jacket mingled with the evergreen shaving lather he used. “I don’t want special favors from you.”

“I know. You’re one of the very few who doesn’t. You have no idea how that feels.”

Her eyes drifted to his mouth. He hadn’t missed a spot this morning. She licked her lips nervously. “Actually, I do. No one pays attention to me unless they want something.”

“Which is why you prefer the company of children.”

Sage blinked. “Generally, yes.”

“And my company?” The gentle pressure of his fingers pulled her closer.

Panic welled in her throat, and Sage gripped his sleeves to keep herself upright, realizing only then that her arms rested over his. She locked her knees in place and forced herself to toss her head and lift her hands away. “Has been pleasant.”

“Pleasant.” Ash dropped his hands and stepped back, his mouth pulling into a thin line. He shook his head and made a quiet noise of disgust. “I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything more.”

He snatched the reins of the two horses and stormed away without a backward glance.

*

Sage rode in the equipment wagon, trying to make out the shapes of the riders behind them. The rain pelting the canvas cover was too loud for any conversation with Charlie, who stretched out beside her and dozed against his saddle, and she felt grateful to be alone with her thoughts.

Ash had been right when he said she preferred to be around children. Their motives were simple and pure. They trusted completely, loved and wept without restraint, hated without guilt—things she hadn’t done in the years since Father died.

Darnessa used her. Uncle William used her. Aunt Braelaura tried to make her into something she could never be. Clare needed her strength and guidance.

But Ash wanted things for her.

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