Syla realized her mistake in bringing that up. If she mentioned her aunt, he might send men back to look for her.
“Sergeant Fel studied and practiced engineering in the military before he was recruited to be a bodyguard to protect my siblings and eventually me in the castle,” she said. “I’d hopedhecould draw a schematic.”
“He’s not moon-marked.”
“No. But he has quite an aptitude for mechanical things.” Syla remembered Fel tearing pieces out of her aunt’s magical tractor but kept her expression earnest.
“But he’s lost, you said. Does that mean he’s dead? We didn’t see any bodies along the way.”
“I didn’t see him die. He charged off to confront—to protect me from—Captain Vorik. That’s when I took the reins and got away. He told me to, but it was hard to leave him. Do you think he might have escaped?”
The sergeant’s expression remained skeptical, and she worried he’d stopped long enough at the temple to get more of the story, such as how she’d claimed Vorik wasn’t a prisoner and had spent hours in his room, tending his wounds.
Belatedly, it occurred to her that she had no reason to answer the sergeant’s questions.Shewas the one who had the authority to question him and expect answers.
But she’d never been trained to act orfeellike a leader. After so many years in the temple, where she’d had responsibilities but hadn’t been in charge, not wanting anything to do with the bureaucracy, she saw herself as a normal person with some magical healing ability.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’m quite tired, Sergeant.” Syla leaned against the wall, as if she meant to slump against the cold metal and sleep. “But I’d appreciate if it you’d keep an eye out for my bodyguard. Just in case he survived. And watch out for the rider, too. He’s very dangerous.”
“Oh, we know.”
Tunnok didn’t take the hint and leave. Instead, he presumed to shift toherbench, sitting scant inches from her, and he looked at her chest. No, atallof her, giving her a long perusal.
The thick healer’s robe didn’t reveal much skin, but since it was so damp, itdidhug her curves more than it otherwise would have.
Tunnok didn’t let his gaze linger inappropriately for too long, instead shifting his focus to her face, but unease swept through Syla at this familiarity. She wasn’t such a ravaging beauty that she’d endured many unwelcome advances in her life, but she also wasn’t so plain that she’d been completely ignored. In particular, she’d had a few encounters with men who’d grown overly amorous after she’d healed them. Her station had always insulated her somewhat, but now that everything was in upheaval and the queen was dead… did she have that protection?
What was going through this man’s mind as he gazed at her through slitted eyes? He had to see her as… vulnerable. And was he wrong?
Syla curled her fingers on her leg, wishing for the first time in her life that she’d studied more than healing, that she’d learned how to use her magic in other areas. Such as self-defense. Until the invasion, she’d rarely had to worry about such things.
“Back in Hazel Harbor,” Tunnok said, “after we heard about the dragon attack on Castle Island, there was speculation about what might happen if the entire royal family was slain.”
Why did Syla have a feeling he’d been apartof that speculation?
“Would another government have to be established?” Tunnok mused. “With different leaders? Of course, the power of the Moonmarks, and their ability to control the remaining shielders, suggests they would have to be involved… or at least kept as close allies, but other old families, such as my own Tunnok line, are well-respected and might have the knack for ruling. Most of the males have served in the enforcers or fleet.” He touched his uniformed chest. “Some have even battled dragons and riders at sea. We’re considered good stock.”
Syla stared at him. Somehow, this wasn’t what she’d expected him to bring up.
“Those prepared to step in with the appropriate alliances or perhaps marriages might be able to win favor from the populace and other elites.”
“I’d think worrying about repelling the dragons and stormers would be of greater importance at the moment,” Syla said, “than figuring out who’s going to be the next ruler of the kingdom.”
“That is important, yes, but someone must step forward to lead us to a victory against them, and you…”
“I what?” She scowled at him.
“You may play a role, but a healer as monarch? Who would back that?”
“I am my mother’s heir, whether I’m ahealeror not.” Syla had never wanted to be queen, nor did she feel qualified, but it was insulting to have someone who didn’t know her at all assume she wasn’t capable.
“Of course.” Tunnok presumed to pat her hand. Condescendingly.
Perhaps a testament to her strong emotions, her quarter-moon birthmark flared silver. Usually, it only did that when she was drawing heavily upon her power to heal someone.
Tunnok drew back, as if startled. Or stung. But Syla didn’t think the magic had done anything to him.
Too bad.
