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Beside her, Gil gave one of his rare, but genuine grins. “It would seem so.”
Reluctantly, the prince nodded.
The party was now three.
CHAPTERTWENTY
At the crack of dawn,Ina arrived at Thea's door, bearing a tray of porridge, sliced fruit, and steaming tea.
Thea ate while the maid laid her clean travel garments across the foot of the bed. The two halves of her dress were there, too, but she'd already decided to leave those behind. Speed was necessary for the coming trip. Anything she could do to lessen Gil's burden would help.
Her thoughts rolled around that man like waves tumbled about the rocks at the shore. Reconciling that he was Gaius, the king, with her knowledge of Gil the assassin and his charming ways seemed an insurmountable task. But it had only been one night, and merging the two identities in her head would take time.
“You knew, didn't you?” she asked as she sipped her tea.
Ina lifted her head. “Knew what, milady?”
“Who he was. Gaius.”
The maid offered a coy smile. “Oh, we get so many guests. I couldn't possibly keep them all straight, milady. Even if I have been working for the royal family since I was thirteen.”
Thea snorted and cradled her tea close. “You're as bad as he is, bending the truth like that.” She should have been mad at him for it, too. In the heat of the moment, realizing all he'd hidden, she'd been angry. But the feeling had been fast to fade, and she wasn't sure if it was because his reasons made sense, or because he'd kissed the sense right out of her.
Ina chuckled softly to herself and finished tidying the room. All that was left for Thea to do was get dressed and take the things she couldn't leave behind. Anything she left would be set aside for later, just in case they stopped by Danesse on a return journey, which made it easier to decide.
Of course, that assumed there wouldbea return journey. Every time she thought of the risks, she grew convinced that accompanying him would slow him down and increase the likelihood of Gil coming to harm. Yet he'd been pleased when she asked to go with him; relieved, even. He'd said he could not ask her to go, but he'd been fast to grant permission when she asked.
Risky or otherwise, he wanted her there, and that would have to be good enough.
By the time Thea dressed and descended the stairs, the men were outside. Rilion had gotten a third horse from somewhere, and all three were saddled and ready for the trip. Each horse bore a bedroll on the back of the saddle and bags of provisions to either side. Thea had left most of her things in her room, packed into the sewing basket so they would be easy to store until she came back. If she came back. In a strange way, that offered comfort. If she didn't survive, it wasn't as if she'd miss the books she'd brought along and hadn't gotten to read.
“Have you any riding experience?” Gil asked as she approached. It would be hard to think of him as anything but Gil today; he wore his illusory clothes, giving him the face she'd crafted to go with the name. That face would likely always be Gil in her head, no matter what she knew of his identity.
“I'm afraid not.” Thea liked the idea of horses, but her family had always resided in Samara. There was no room for anyone within the city to keep them. The king had his own pastures just beyond the city's walls, space for the animals to graze. Not the king, she corrected herself. Him. Gil. Gaius. Except he was the king. By the Light, she was going to have a headache in no time.
Rilion hummed thoughtfully under his breath. “We'll give her the bay. She's more sweet-tempered than the others.”
Thea did not know what bay meant, and she looked between the horses in hopes one would be identified.
Gil stepped toward the pretty brown mare with the black mane, tail, and legs. “Bring your bags. I'll show you how to fasten them.”
She only carried one bag now. She slid it from her shoulder and held it in her hands as she approached. “Do they have names?”
“That one's Molasses.” Rilion busied himself with preparing his own horse, a dappled gray gelding with sleepy eyes. “This is Nib, and the red one is, ah, Socks.”
Thea observed the white markings at the reddish horse's hooves. “Yes, I see.”
“People who name horses tend not to be creative,” Gil said.
“No worse than what people name cats. Or dogs.” Thea's family had never owned dogs. Just the old gray cat, whose flat face made him appear perpetually grumpy. He'd been sweet. “My mother's cat was named Toddles, but we mostly called him Tod, for short.”
“Toddles?” Rilion repeated with a small laugh.
“His legs were shorter than the rest of his litter. He wobbled when he walked.” She grinned, an expression the prince returned. He seemed warmer this morning, despite his claims the night before that he wouldn't accompany them on the journey.
Gil's fingers were deft when he tied her bag to the saddle, his speed too hard for her to follow. He undid the knots and showed her again. “People aren't often much better with names. We're both examples of that, aren't we?” He raised his brows at Rilion, who gave a snort.
Thea tried tying the bag on her own. It held. “Because Rilion is a common name?”
