"Maybe wherever I go, after I leave Woodcourt."
Trina and I were very different, yet somehow the same. If there was anything we both understood, it was the unfairness of being judged by who our fathers were. Maybe for that reason, neither of us would ever be fully accepted in Antora. I'd always looked down on the world through diamond-studded windows. She'd looked up at the world through salt glass. Despite those differences, we were both looking in from the outside.
"Tell you what," I said, letting a mischievous smile tug at my mouth. "If we don't find the Olden Blade, I'll tell Tenger how much I hate you, how many times you threatened me and forced me to act against my will."
Trina's brow wrinkled, trying to figure out whether I was serious. Finally, she burst into a laugh. "You'd do that? Tell Tenger how awful I am?"
"I try to help where I can."
Our giggling stopped when a knock came at our door. When Trina answered it, Simon was on the other side. He entered and all but slammed the door behind him.
"What's wrong?" Trina asked.
He cast a dark eye toward me. "Sir Basil has returned to Woodcourt and requested time with you in the gardens. Your father gave his permission for you to leave your room, on condition a guard accompanies you."
Trina caught my expression and walked over to begin winding my loose hair into something more formal.
"Don't go." Simon stepped deeper into my room, his jaw determinedly set forward. "We know the truth about Basil now."
"And he knows that I've agreed to marry him tomorrow. What happens if I refuse to meet him tonight?"
"Nothing happens because you won't be here tomorrow!"
"She has to go," Trina said. "Simon, you're not thinking straight. She has to
go."
Simon cursed under his breath, keeping his head down. When Trina pinned the last braid into place, I stood and she straightened my skirt.
"You can't let him suspect that you know about Endrick's threat," she warned. "It would lead him to think that you're planning an escape."
"Agreed." Nothing more needed to be said. Trina's advice was obvious. Simon's childishness was useless.
He held out his arm for me and led me from the room without the slightest glance in my direction. The muscles of his arm were so tense I doubted a hammer could loosen them. I snuck a peek at him. The clench of his jaw brought out a small dimple in his cheek. Why did he have to be so handsome? Why did just looking at him cause this flurry of nerves in my stomach?
"If Basil tries anything tonight, I'll be right there," he said. "I can stop him."
I gave him a half smile. "I can stop him too. But he won't harm me tonight. Lord Endrick wants to save that for after our marriage, once I'm in Reddengrad. That way he can declare it as an act of war and rally Antora behind him."
"Then why does Basil want to see you now?" Simon scowled.
"Why do you care?" I asked. "We're leaving tonight, and once we get into that pit, you'll find the Olden Blade. You'll have what you want."
"The Olden Blade? That's all you think I want? Why I'm upset?"
I groaned. "What is it now? Haven't you asked enough of me yet?"
We should have started down the stairs, but the laughter of servants below stopped us both. Simon rolled his eyes, then opened the door to the nearest room.
I followed him inside, then shut the door and leaned against it, arms folded, determined to outlast this tantrum. He was deeper in the room and did a quick survey to be sure we were alone before he turned back to me. For a full five seconds, he didn't so much as blink. Then he opened his mouth and proceeded to say nothing whatsoever.
"Well?" I didn't have time for these games.
He was studying me, endlessly searching for clues to decipher me. It wouldn't work. If I couldn't understand myself anymore, what chance did he have?
It wasn't nearly so hard to understand him. He felt everything with such intensity that his eyes betrayed his emotions every time. Such as why he didn't want me going to see Basil tonight. This wasn't about my physical safety. Simon was protecting my heart.
Or his.