“Here.” He held the canteen to her lips. “Just sip for now, even though you want more.” She obeyed, swallowing tentatively. Even her throat muscles hurt. The short man eyed her. “The first is always the hardest. Better him than you, though.”
Sage recalled waking up with the weight of a dead man on top of her. It was a miracle she hadn’t suffocated. After shoving him off of her, she’d vomited all over his body. Belatedly, she remembered leaving the knife behind as she stumbled away, drenched in his blood. “Did you throw up after your first kill?” she gasped between sips.
“I don’t know anyone who didn’t.”
That made her feel better. “Even Captain Quinn?”
“Alex? For days.” He sat back on his heels. “You were so worn out last night, we weren’t properly introduced.” He offered his hand. “I’m Sergeant Ash Carter.”
Sage sighed. “Of course you are.”
74
SAGE OUTLINED ALEX’S plan to Ash as he prepared a meal over a small fire. The smell of the blood in her clothes and hair killed her appetite, but she forced herself to eat. She had to put food in her mouth carefully, as her lips were split in two places. Chewing was also difficult, with her left cheek so bruised and scraped. At least her teeth and jaw felt intact.
Ash watched her eat a piece of camp bread—basically fried porridge—with her dirty fingers. “Are you a maid, then?”
She resisted the urge to shake her head. “No, I work for the matchmaker. I’ve been blending in with the ladies and helping Captain Quinn gather information. It’s a long story.”
“I look forward to hearing it.” He offered her a piece of squirrel meat. The way he looked at her made her slightly uncomfortable.
She cleared her throat as she took the piece from his hand. “When I first met Alex, he told me his name was Ash Carter. Are you the real Ash Carter, or is that just a name spies prefer?”
He smiled ironically. “I’m the real Ash. Normally it’s my job to gather information, but he wanted to give it a try and have me do some scouting. My story was already known and in place, so I suggested he use it rather than make up a whole new person.”
Sage considered the idea as she chewed. “You have to create an entire identity to be effective.” Ash nodded. “So you know Alex well? You were raised together?” Again he affirmed. “Are you really Prince Robert’s half brother?” He nodded. “Are you a sergeant rather than an officer so you won’t ever outrank him?”
He winced. “It seems you already know a lot about me.”
“Just those details. It might take a while to sort some things out in my head; your history is mixed up with his personality.”
Ash snickered. “Yeah, it’s kind of hard to keep that under wraps.” He studied her for several seconds. “Does he return your affections?”
Sage’s head jerked up. “My what?”
Ash looked surprised by her reaction. “Your affections,” he repeated slowly. “You care for him a great deal.”
“I don’t—”
“Oh, you don’t? My mistake, then.…” Ash popped a piece of meat into his mouth. “But it’s nothing to be ashamed of if you were—half the ladies I know would choose him over Robert. You should see the fuss whenever he shows up at court.”
Sage made a study of brushing crumbs from her jacket. It was still damp and most of them just smeared. “Which explains his expertise in the deception of women.”
“Not at all.” Ash sat back. “Alex is a bit … private with his inner thoughts, but those of us who know him well can usually tell what he’s got brewing in there.” He tapped his temple. “Once he’s decided on something, though, it usually comes out.”
“Yes,” Sage agreed. “And what ‘usually comes out’ is a lie. For starters, he said he was you.”
Ash smiled without humor. “I bet that hurt.”
Sage flinched. “I’m not some silly, sentimental schoolgirl—”
“I meant it hurt him,” Ash said calmly. “Did you ever imagine it from his perspective?” He picked up the spit stick and bowed it back and forth between his brown hands. “I tried to warn him. Playing spy is fun until you realize people don’t like you—they like what you’re pretending to be. And if they ever find out…” Ash shrugged and tossed the stick into the flames. “Well, then they hate you.”
I hate you. They had been nearly the first words out of her mouth. And his response had been—
I love you, Sage Fowler. Of everything I’ve said and done, that is truth.
Sage had been staring into space, but she brought her eyes back to focus on Ash, who wore an encouraging smile. “If he told you he cares for you, I suggest you believe it. Your feelings were obvious the first time you said his name.”
Sage squeezed her eyes shut against the threat of tears. It had all hurt so badly because she thought he had lied, but she understood now he hadn’t—not in any way that mattered. He had shown her the real Alex, the man beneath the rank. The Alex buried so deep even he had begun to forget existed. And then that Alex had laid his heart at her feet, knowing full well how she would react. An ache pulled at her chest from the inside as she remembered their parting and how she’d refused to even let him speak, and how he’d accepted her hate as something he deserved.
But she didn’t hate him; anger was a cloak she wore out of habit, even though it never brought lasting warmth. In truth, what she hated was how he’d drawn her out and made her care after years spent wrapped up in herself. She hated that he’d crippled her pride and exposed her flaws and loved her in spite, if not because, of them. She hated that she couldn’t bear the thought of a world without him.
She loved him.
She loved him, and she had to tell him before it was too late.
She opened her eyes to find Ash was grinning openly. “My only regret now is not taking that spy job as we’d originally planned—I would’ve met you first.” He shrugged in resignation. “Don’t worry, though, I know better than to get in his way.”
Stephen and Dell arrived back in the cave just then. Ash had Dell collect a bucket of rainwater, and with it he set about cleaning the rest of her cuts and scrapes. She hadn’t even noticed half of them, including a long gash on her forehead at her hairline. The remainder of the water she used to rinse her hair out, but she didn’t bother with her clothes. Sage wrung cold water from her hair as the three soldiers readied their weapons and developed a plan to take out the fortress’s patrols.
“How many will there be?” she asked.
“We’ve seen as many as twenty walking sentries,” Ash said. “But in the last couple days it’s been more like eight or ten.”
She nodded. “The sickness.”
“Remind me to tell Alex that was brilliant. His father will be proud.”
Sage concentrated on braiding her hair, unwilling to brag about her part in it. “So how can I help now?”
“Would you consider staying here? It’s safer.” At that she looked up, and he snorted in laughter.
She narrowed her eyes. “What’s so funny?”