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‘What the —’
It was the hawk that Wilder had been using for correspondence.Terrence– the ill-fitting name came back to her suddenly. The bird bore a scroll tied to its leg and a tattooed hand was already reaching for it. Thea watched as Wilder retrieved the missive and stepped back, holding the parchment out of her sight.
Her skin prickled. ‘What does it say?’
Wilder didn’t look up from the message, his eyes scanning down the page once, twice, before he crumpled the parchment in his fist. ‘Nothing good.’
She closed the gap between them, her heart rate suddenly spiking. ‘That’s not an answer.’
‘Thea…’
‘We promised,’ she said slowly, searching his face for that openness she’d glimpsed time and time again, only to have it close up before her eyes. ‘We vowed we would be honest with one another. Always.’
‘We did.’
She steeled herself as she met his silver eyes, noting the shadow behind them. ‘I know a lie when I see one. I just didn’t expect one from you, not now.’
The Warsword didn’t deny it. A mask of indifference seemed to slide over his handsome features.
‘Tell me,’ she said quietly. ‘We can face it together.’
He didn’t so much as reach for her. Only his eyes shifted, to where she had absentmindedly started to toy with the fate stone around her neck. A force of habit, seeking comfort in the one thing she knew to be true.
‘That thing does not make you invincible,’ he told her, voice low.
Thea gave a dark laugh, her mood darkening along with it. ‘No shit,’ she said coldly. ‘I’d say it’s the opposite, wouldn’t you?’
‘Thea —’
‘But it gives me an edge,’ she cut in. ‘It allows me to take risks when others shouldn’t.’
‘It allows you no such thing.’
‘Who are you to tell me what a fate stone does and doesn’t allow?’ she countered, anger lacing her words. She hadn’t mentioned to anyone that the number had grown darker over the past few months, as though signalling the time passing, and the little time remaining…
Her fingers sought what she’d kept hidden in her pocket. A patch of leather that she’d painstakingly crafted after studying the designs she’d stolen from the Delmirian armoury. A stupid gift, created by a stupid girl, for a Warsword who’d rather stay surly and silent than share his burdens with her. She’d made it to help ease the discomfort of his shoddy armour, as a means for added protection where she knew he was vulnerable.
Thea glanced at him again, giving him one final chance to come clean, to tell her what his friend from Naarva had disclosed about the affairs of monsters and men.
Wilder’s face was unreadable.
So Thea shoved the piece of leather down to the depths of her pocket and left it there. ‘If you’re so desperate to keep your secrets, keep them.’
She let her anger burn, for it was easier to feel than the ache that lay beneath it. Turning on her heel, she headed for the bow of the ship, where Cal and Kipp were.
‘Trouble in paradise, Highness?’ Kipp said by way of greeting.
‘Don’t start,’ she muttered, taking a place beside him and looking at the golden land ahead.
While Harenth was verdant and lush with sweeping plains and farmlands, the hills and valleys of Tver appeared gilded and wild, even from the ship as it docked at long last in the quiet port.
Thea’s heart seized as she spotted a cloud of dust drifting along the horizon. ‘What’s that?’ she breathed.
Cal nudged her. ‘That might cheer you up, actually…’
Thea gave him a baffled look.
‘Thatis a herd of Tverrian thoroughbreds on the move.’
