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Hawthorn would have liked to have declared he’d not thought of Lucinda since the day she left court, but he’d be lying. He’d thought a lot about how she’d made him feel, and why he hadn’t found that with someone else.
And he thought a lot about why Juliana had reported her, knowing the trouble it would get her in, knowing she wouldn’t be believed.
He wasn’t quite sure he believed her declaration that she simply hated Lucinda more. He liked thinking there was something else to it.
He didn’t like liking it, though.
For safety reasons, several carriages were taken on the journey, some completely empty to confuse any lurking assassins. As a further act of diversion, Queen Maytree and Aspen were in a separate carriage entirely, leaving Hawthorn and Juliana by themselves.
It was a three-day trip.
For the first day, Hawthorn talked nearly the entire time. He challenged Jules to countless card games, recited poetry, educated her on several historical facts and at one point tried to serenade her.
It didn’t end well for him, and he had no idea why he’d even attempted it.
Juliana didn’t seem amused. She was tightly wound the entire time, barely muttering a word. Come to think of it, when was the last time he’d seen her smile?
He kept his eyes on her all evening when they rested at an inn. It was like she was standing on a bee’s nest. She never relaxed, her brow rarely anything but furrowed.
“You don’t smile much,” he remarked that night, as he changed for bed.
Juliana stepped out from behind the screen. “I have nothing to smile at.”
Hawthorn didn’t quite understand that. He had people wanting to kill him all the time, and he still got smiled at.Mostpeople smiled when he was around, come to think of it. And why shouldn’t they? He was hilarious.
He tried not to think about Juliana’s lack of smiles, but it provided a better distraction than thinking about what might await him at the Autumn Court.
The next day, he couldn’tstopthinking. And he couldn’t summon his usual smiles, either.
“Are you nervous about seeing Lucinda again?” Juliana asked mid-afternoon as they trundled through the Autumn forests.
Hawthorn glared. The truth was, hewasnervous. Or at least awkward. He was almost certain now that he was older, she was definitely going to try seducing him again. He was very worried he wouldn’t be able to resist.
“I was twelve years old when I last saw her, a foolish boy,” he said swiftly. “I’ve grown a great deal since then.”Outwardly. Outwardly, I’ve grown. Inside I am afraid I am just the same.
“Doesn’t answer my question.”
“Areyounervous? You and Lucinda never precisely got on.”
Juliana half-smiled, but it was devoid of warmth. “I’m armed,” she said, patting her sword.
“You aren’t allowed to cut down nobles.”
“Correction,” she said, as he sipped from his flask, “you’re not allowed to getcaughtcutting down nobles. No body, no crime.”
Hawthorn snorted wine up his nose. “You aren’t nervous, then?” he asked, whipping out a silk handkerchief to mop up the damage. He ought to be annoyed if his shirt was spoiled, but he found he didn’t care. The laugh was worth it.
“I am never nervous.”
She certainly neverlookednervous, but that wasn’t exactly the same thing.
The carriage jolted to a sudden stop. Juliana’s arm flew out, pinning him to the seat. “Don’t—” she started.
A cry sounded at the head of the procession. A horse brayed. A crash splintered through the air, like the ground was being ripped apart. The carriage rocked, once, twice—
Juliana’s sword was out in an instant. She kicked open the door. Hawthorn kept close behind her, peering out at the rest of the procession.
A massive club came swinging towards them. Juliana grabbed his arm and flung him out of the way, her sword slicing upwards at the fist of an enormous ogre.
