The Heart of Betrayal (The Remnant Chronicles 2) - Page 43

He unlocked his trunk and threw in his belt and scabbard. His knife was placed just under the fur rug where he would sleep—he kept his blade close, even in his own locked room. Was it habit or a requirement of the Rahtan, who always had to be ready? It reminded me that I still had Natiya’s knife in my boot and I’d have to be discreet when I removed it.

“Is something wrong? Was it the way I said the blessing?” I asked as I struggled with the laces at my back.

He took off one boot. “You said it fine.”

“But?”

“Nothing.” He saw me fiddling with the laces. “Here, let me look.”

I turned around. “Aster seems to have knotted them,” I said.

I felt his fingers fumbling with the task, then finally felt the fabric loosen. “There,” he said. I turned to face him. He looked down at me, his eyes warm. “There is something else. When I saw you in that dress, I was—” He shook his head. “I was afraid. I thought— Never mind.”

I’d never seen him wrestle so much with his words. Or admit to being afraid. He stepped away and sat on the bed. “Be careful how much you push, Lia.” He pulled his other boot off.

“Are you worried about me?”

“Of course I’m worried about you!” he snapped.

I stiffened, surprised by his anger. “I’ve been welcomed, Kaden. That’s all. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“That kind of welcome could also bring a death sentence.”

“From the Council, you mean.”

“We have very little here, Lia, but our pride.”

“And a prisoner’s been honored. That’s the problem?”

He nodded. “You only just got here and—”

“But, Kaden, the people who welcomed me are Vendans.”

His eyes drilled into me. “But they’re not the ones who carry lethal weapons.”

There was no denying that the tools of Effiera’s trade were nothing like Malich’s and his cohorts’. I sat down beside Kaden. “What is the clan of Meurasi? Why do they matter so much?”

He explained that the city was filled with people from all the provinces. They tended to settle into neighborhoods of their own clan, and each had unique characteristics. One quarter was quite different from another, but the clan of Meurasi represented all things Vendan. Hearty, enduring, steadfast. They honored many of the ways of old that others had forgotten, but from them came the promise of loyalty above all.

“They’ll clothe their own, even if they have to piece together scraps to do it. Everyone contributes what they can. Their bloodline reaches all the way back to the only child Lady Venda had. The first Komizar remarried after she died and had many children with other wives, but from Venda, there was only one, Meuras. So yes, it’s an honor for anyone to be welcomed to the clan, but a prisoner—” He shook his head as if trying to figure it out then looked at me. “It just isn’t done. Did you say something to Effiera in the tent?”

I remembered her expression when Aster told her my name, and then the soft murmurs when I removed my shirt and they saw the kavah on my shoulder. The ways of old. Did the Meurasi still pass down the babble of a madwoman? A pretty name, Yvet called it. Maybe it was more than that, but given the Council’s reaction to my welcome and Kaden’s apparent disapproval as well, I decided to keep that card close to my chest for now.

“No,” I said. “We only talked about clothes.”

He looked at me warily. “Be careful. Don’t push it, Lia.”

“I heard you say that the first time.”

“I don’t think you did.”

I jumped to my feet. “Why is this my fault?” I shouted. “You’re the one who took me to the jehendra even when I said I didn’t need clothes! I bought one thing, and they brought me anot

her. If I had insulted them by refusing the clothes, I’m sure I’d be reprimanded for that too! And tonight did I ask to say the acknowledgment of sacrifice? No! Calantha shoved the platter of bones in my face. What was I to do? Is there anything I can do that’s right in your eyes?”

He sighed and pushed against his knees to stand. “You’re right. I’m sorry. You didn’t ask for any of this. I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”

My anger cooled. Maybe it was just part of his training as an assassin not to show it, but Kaden was never tired. He was always alert and ready, but his fatigue was evident now.

Tags: Mary E. Pearson The Remnant Chronicles Fantasy
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