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

He wanted to make her happy, tried to include her when he could, offered to arrange something he knew she’d like, but would never ask for. And when he’d learned she wasn’t a bride, he wanted to know if she would still be getting married. Why? He could have anyone he wanted. Until an hour ago, she never would’ve considered he might want her.

But then she’d panicked and ruined it. Ash wasn’t the type to give up easily, though. Would he try again?

Did she want to say the right things if he did? Sage closed her eyes and remembered the way he looked at her, the way it felt when he held her waist and leaned close.

Yes. She did.

*

Sage dozed off next to Charlie and napped through the afternoon until the next stop. She woke to Ash unlatching the rear gate of the wagon, and she struggled to sit up and catch his eye. He focused on Charlie, pulling the sleeping boy to the edge by the crate he lay across while she rubbed her face and prepared to say what she’d rehearsed.

Ash, I should have thanked you for your offer; it just took me by surprise …

He never looked in her direction, though, just hefted the boy into his arms and strode away without speaking. She was left to climb out on her own and follow the ladies to their rooms. At the last second, she remembered how she was dressed and went back to the baggage cart and pulled her heavy trunk onto her back.





43

LORD FASHELL HAD them for only one night, but he went all out, treating his guests to a full banquet. He’d even produced a quartet of musicians, which meant there would be dancing afterward, too. Sage struggled through dinner. She was seated far from Clare and next to the younger sons of the household. Like most men she met, they spent the evening trying to impress her with their accomplishments and connections. Belatedly she remembered she had a job to do, and her mind automatically began tallying what she would write down later, but she still listened with only one ear.

“As the nearest estate to Tegann, we have a great responsibility to Duke D’Amiran,” the one on her right said.

Sage’s head whipped around at the mention of the duke. “Oh really?”

The young man—green eyes, left-handed, sunburned, one inch taller than her, callused hands, well-used dagger at his side … what was his name?… Bartholomew—continued, “Almost everyone going to or from the capital stays here. Right now the pass is still closed to wagons, so there will be a backup of travelers. You ladies have places reserved at Tegann, of course, so you’ll wait there until it’s clear, but soon the fortress will be crowded. Some may turn back to us if the rains take too long to arrive.”

“Father received several letters today, begging his hospitality in advance,” put in the brother on her left (blue eyes, right-handed, missing half his left pinky). “Fortunately, he can afford it.”

She widened her eyes. “You have an advantage over me! I have no idea who’ll be there.”

The brothers rattled off names, many of which she recognized but made little sense. Few had enough property to be considered seriously for a Concordium match, and most had something in common she couldn’t put her thumb on. As she’d never met any of them, however, she encouraged the young men to describe each one, laughing and commenting on how witty their impressions were.

When the last plates were cleared away, both brothers asked her to dance, and she forced them to flip a coin to see who would get the favor first. As Bartholomew led her away, she cast a disappointed pout to the other—what was his name?—to placate him. She was pleased to see Lieutenant Gramwell had taken Clare to a quiet corner, reminding Sage she still needed to speak with Darnessa, and she grimaced. The matchmaker would probably not be happy over what was developing. Sage was surprised she hadn’t already noticed.

“Is something wrong, my lady?” her partner asked.

“Oh, no,” Sage said with false brightness. “I just remembered I tore the hem of my blue dress getting down from that wretched wagon, and I forgot to tell the maid to fix it.” She made a sulky face. “I don’t think it will be repaired in time for the first banquet at Tegann, and it’s my best color.”

“Now I’m disappointed, Lady Sagerra, that I shan’t see it, if it looks even lovelier than this one.”

She blushed. “Don’t tease me; you know I’ll be married in just a few weeks.” Sage tilted her chin down and looked up at him through her long lashes. “I just hope he dances as well as you,” she said a little breathlessly, leaning into him. He beamed and held her tighter.

As her partner spun her around, Sage caught Lieutenant Casseck watching her with an amused smile. Her own expression faltered. What if he told Ash about her flirting? Would Ash think it was a message that his feelings didn’t matter to her? Would he suspect her motives if she tried to reverse what happened this morning?

Why did this have to be so complicated?

*

Sage flipped through her ledger, adding notes from that night’s conversations. A name mentioned caught her eye, and she stopped to read about him. Apparently the lord sounded familiar because he’d proposed to one of the brides last winter. She paused again when she saw another had proposed to Lady Jacqueline. Both were refused, of course. The coincidence struck her, though, and she turned to the pages where she’d summarized the information on the Concordium brides.

She frowned as she studied matches they’d turned down, or rather, their parents had turned down on their behalf. Girls with a chance of making it into the Concordium usually declined or delayed suitors in the year before the conference. Interestingly, not a single proposal had been presented by a matchmaker, but as Darnessa had complained last month, there were quite a few marriages that had gone through, of late.

Sage tore a blank page from the back of the ledger and tallied the recent matches between families from Crescera and Tasmet, finding and writing down fourteen—all arranged by the D’Amirans. Why? And why so many? Such unions weren’t unheard of—they usually brought some advantage the families wanted, but fourteen in two years was well outside normal. She went back through the pages and copied the dowries next to the pairings.

Eight involved troops and arms, ostensibly to help protect from Kimisar raids, totaling over 1,800 men. Two were large sums of gold. Three traded massive amounts of wheat and other grains. The remainder was a combination of weapons, gold, and food. In total, it was enough for a small army.

The D’Amirans were building an army.

Sage drew a line down the middle of her page and listed the women with them on the other side. Next to each name she detailed the assets she knew by heart: money, militias, property, connections. Every lady was a prize. It was why Darnessa had chosen them.

And tomorrow, like flies in a web, they’d be trapped at Tegann and surrounded by spiders.

She had to tell Captain Quinn.

*

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