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“Do I have a reason to be paranoid?” he asks evenly.
“Do you?”
“What game is this we’re playing now?” He frowns curiously. “Do you know something I don’t?”
I hesitate. Was Zander wrong? Did Princess Romeria and his brother not have an affair on the trek from the rift to Cirilea? I poked at the topic in the library and thought I saw the truth within his eyes, but was I only imagining it? Maybe Atticus is innocent of everything, and I’ve been loading a gun and leading him to the firing wall unfairly.
I’m keeping too many secrets.
A flare of reckless bravery swells inside me. I can’t help myself. I meet his scrutinizing stare and say, “I doubt it’s as fun for you as draughts was.” Whatever that even is.
My taunt has the desired effect. Stark understanding fills Atticus’s expression in a wave of shock.
I use the moment to duck away, abandoning him with a parasol in hand. By the time I reach the gold-and-silver tent, the rain has soaked my gown. The guards wordlessly pull the tent flap back to allow me in.
Zander stands like a statue as a servant fastens a buckle at his side. I assumed he would be wearing a full suit of armor, but he’s dressed like a warrior with layers of studded black leather beneath a few sleek-looking armor plates—at his shoulders and forearms, across his chest, at his knees.
He looks lethal.
“Are you not hungry?” he asks.
“I’ll eat later,” I murmur, collecting the opulent details of the royal tent’s cozy interior as I wander in. The grass floor is hidden beneath layers of carpets with rich colors and patterns. One side is furnished with tufted settees and velvet armchairs, while a long rectangular table sweeps across the other side. A map of Eldred Wood is stretched out next to a cache of polished weapons. It reminds me of Sofie’s bodyguards’ collection. There are blades of varying size and menace, some straight backed, others trailing in curved points. “You’re going to useall of these?”
“Not all, but many.”
I nibble on the tart as I give the arsenal another long look before shifting to the topographic map of the forest. It’s vast, covering an expansive area of west Islor, and detailed, illustrating the many rivers, lakes, rapids, and rocky elevations among the dense wood. “What are all these painted stones?” Markers of some sort.
“Green for the animal carcasses found, black for the mortals.”
I grimace at the cluster. “So, you know where to find this nether thing?”
“The nethertaur?” He smirks. “Yes, the general area. It’s deep within the woods. We’ll draw it out.”
“I heard how.” I give him a pointed look.
“Priestess Clyda will not be harmed. Thank you, Basil.” He offers the servant the briefest smile, but it’s enough to remind me that Zander doesn’t behave as the other nobility do. Fortunately.
“You’re going to be careful, right?” I have no idea what this beast is that they’re hunting, but if it’s anything like a daaknar … Plus, Adley will be on the hunt with them, armed with weapons. Concern pinches my heart for the man I’ve shared a bed with for the past several nights.
“As careful as a pack of fools hunting down an otherworldly beast.” Atticus strolls in as Basil slips out. Boaz and Elisaf trail him. “We should depart soon, to make the most of the daylight.” My stomach tenses as he heads toward the weapons table—toward me—with his typical arrogant stride, his gaze steady and unperturbed, as if I didn’t just drop a bomb on his head. He must realize how I know. Zander is going to be furious with me when he finds out, but at least I have my answer.
“Gully’s Pass or Hollow Falls?” Zander asks, too far away to sense the tension whirling inside me.
“Gully’s Pass is safer for the horses.” Atticus stops on the other side of the table, directly in front of me.
I avert my attention to the map to search those two locations. “Safe is good.”
“Safe is what we all want.” Atticus tests the weight of a bow.
I hesitate but finally look up to find somber eyes on me.
“Regardless of mistakes I have made in the past,” he whispers, “I will always protect my brother. I swear it on my life, and on Islor. You believe me, right?” The sincerity bleeding from a voice that normally dances with wry humor is startling, and I find myself nodding numbly. Whatever Princess Romeria and the prince shared, I can see now it was not loathing for Zander.
“Let us finish our attack plan,” Boaz pushes, drawing a finger across Gully’s Pass. “We will enter here and …”
Attention thankfully drifts to the map, allowing me the chance to sneak away. Several karambits gleam on the table. I only know what they are because one of Korsakov’s guys carried that knife and the idiot sliced his own radial artery open. They had to rush him to the emergency room before he bled out.
I pluck the closest to me from the table. Tucking it into the folds of my dress, I innocently shift to the settee with my apple treat and hide the blade beneath the corner of the rug.
