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“You seem anxious,” Aire remarked, lifting a chalice to his lips. “Any reason why?”
I caught the divot in his cheek just before he downed the wine. “Jesters don’t get anxious.”
“You’ve been fidgeting with that ribbon bracelet for the last ten minutes.”
“Smug son of a bitch. I liked you better when you were surly.”
Like a prompt, the knight grunted with humor. But because he hadn’t opted for a mask, the crevices in his face deepened suddenly as a female shadow cut between us.
“Sassy,” the girl commented, knocking her head toward the ladies who flocked around Nicu. “My kind of friends.”
With that hood still flooding her features, the girl who called herself Somebody didn’t need a visor. Yet I only made out the grains lacing her skin, a beauty mark studding her upper lip, and a pair of hazel eyes. “Ah,” I mused. “The infamous hatchet vigilante. Fancy seeing you here. No axe tonight?”
“Not one that you can see.”
“My favorite type of answer.”
The girl snorted. Beneath the mirth however, a tinge of loneliness crept across her irises as she peeked once more at the ladies with my son and his familiar.
Occasionally, Somebody came and went. She made unexpected appearances in the lower town and then vanished to wherever she lived with her mother. Because this stripling never volunteered information about her life, seeing right through me every time I tried to wheedle details out of her, I had relented along with Briar. Although we only ever encountered her alone, with the random exception of a small bird sometimes followed her around, the tyke seemed taken care of. Her laundered clothes and the lack of hunger in her eyes confirmed as much.
But whatever reason she’d joined the Masters, and whatever it had to do with her mother, it was the girl’s business to safeguard. And like most skilled players, she kept her secrets well. In the future, it would take a paragon to break down those walls, to see past the veneer and get this feisty, axe-wielding female to open.
Briefly, I mused who that person would be.
Aire squinted at the girl until she noticed him scrutinizing her. Twice, these two had interacted. Once, during the courtyard battle when Aire had blocked a knight from gutting her. Then again during the riot, when Somebody had hurled that axe and pinned Rhys to the pyre.
Since then, the First Knight was never around whenever Somebody showed up. Though from the way she tensed in his presence, I wondered if that was on purpose. Moreover, based on how they regarded one another with familiarity and speculation, these two remembered both incidents in vivid detail.
Pink crept across the places where the Somebody’s flesh was visible. Nonetheless, the loneliness I’d spotted evaporated, replaced by a flash of defensiveness. “What?” she demanded.
Aire frowned, taken aback. “Were you hurt?” When she scrunched her face in confusion, the knight clarified, “During the riot, were you hurt?”
Fair enough, the girl balked as if she’d never been asked that question in her life, much less when it pertained to something that happened twelve months ago. The blush intensified, along with a healthy scoff. “I don’t need to be rescued, asshole.”
Appalled didn’t begin to describe Aire’s reaction, his blue eyes slitting in offense. “That is unsavory language for a—”
“A what?” The girl plopped her grainy hands on her hips and leaned forward in a taunting posture. “A noble?”
Huh. I couldn’t blame the female. After a year, talk about a delayed question. Somebody had sprinted from the riot shortly after tacking the Summer King to the post, but who knew how long she’d been there amongst the mayhem.
Chivalry notwithstanding, had Aire been dwelling on her safety all this time? Even though I’d told him, on more than one occasion, that the girl was fine?
One wouldn’t think so, considering how the pair scowled at one another. Such a shame that my princess wasn’t yet here to see the bulky knight imbued in a face-off against a female who had to be more than a decade younger than him. To that end, I spent a prolonged amount of time observing the phenomenon until finally taking pity on them.
Because they’d never officially met after Nicu caught her passing through camp in The Shadow Orchard, I invited, “Care for an introduction?”
That worked. With effort, Somebody tore her gaze from the knight, glanced at my son, and shrugged. “I can’t stay,” she said by way of apology. “But maybe someday.” Giving me a quick smile, she said, “Glad he’s okay.”
I inclined my head. “Until then, Somebody.”
With another antagonistic look at Aire, the girl swung away. Then she halted and glanced over her shoulder, the folds of her hood ruffling in the breeze. “Aspen,” she said. “You can call me Aspen.”
Ah. That suited her better.
Since I’d once offered to share my real name with this stripling, I moved to answer, but she raised a palm to stop me. “Nope. I like when secrets stay that way.”
This, I understood. Seconds after Aspen strutted into the crowd, Aire made a crusty noise. “Brazen creature.”
