The Traitor's Game (The Traitor's Game 1) - Page 67

Except maybe it was. Gerald had called it a traitor's game. He believed I was capable of winning it. How wrong he was.

"You're right, this isn't a game," Simon said. "Or it isn't supposed to be. The consequences of what we are doing here are far too real."

Without answering, I took his arm as we started to walk again, and then Simon said, "You have secrets, Kes, that's obvious. Can't you trust me with them?"

"Do you trust me?"

His eyes fixed on mine. "Yes, I do trust you."

We were at my door, a welcome barricade between us. I took the handle and twisted it. "I wish you wouldn't. You shouldn't."

Then I left him to enter the room, firmly shutting the door behind me. I leaned heavily against it and closed my eyes, trying to absorb all that had happened over the past hour. Trying to forget how it had felt to be near Simon, his hand caressing my face, my neck, chilling me and warming me in the same touch. Every step he came closer, the bands of energy connecting us had tightened; my heart had pounded, then stopped. If it started again, that was only because I wanted to live another minute in his arms, losing myself in his gaze, flush with the desire to feel his lips on mine. With him, I became alive as I'd never been before. In a different life, or even in another time and place, I would have fallen into his eyes and let myself drown there.

How things might be different now if I had not walked away from him. I wondered if he was still on the opposite side of the door. And what if I opened it and told him my secrets, and that I knew his too, and could we just start there? Or start over? Or go back in that room where he had almost kissed me, because I was sure that if we could return to that moment, I wouldn't walk away.

Or would I open this door and he'd be gone?

"You're back earlier than I'd expected."

When I opened my eyes, past Trina's curious stare, I saw a dozen different dresses laid out on the bed. In the center of them was an elaborate silver dress with red beads and fabric rosettes. It was the finest dress I'd ever seen. A wedding dress, obviously.

"These were all sent up while you were gone." Trina brushed a single finger over the dress nearest to her, as if anything more might ruin it. "A strange dowry, considering your father must know you won't live long enough to wear all of them."

"Don't call him my father." I had no father.

On top of the dress lay a silver necklace with a small ruby dangling from it, one that coordinated perfectly with the gown.

"I was told that used to belong to--"

"My mother." Suddenly, that necklace was the only thing I saw in the room. One of my earliest memories was sitting on her lap, rolling the ruby around in my fingers until she worried I'd break the clasp. Then I'd leaned into her, watching the way the gem caught the light, casting red glimmering shadows wherever it reflected.

I picked up the necklace and held it out for her. "Would you help me?"

Trina smiled and went behind me to tie it on. "I loved my mother too. I wish I had something of hers."

"What was she like?" I asked.

Trina shrugged. "I barely knew her when she was alive. But I know she watches me from the heavens, and I hope to make her proud of me one day."

I smiled back at her as she finished with the necklace. "I'm sure you will."

With that finished, Trina pulled out the trousers and tunic I had worn the previous night. "I assume you'll want to wear these tonight, instead of the wedding dress. I wish you had a set for me."

"You wear them. They'll fit you better anyway."

She held the clothes up against her frame, then her smile quickly soured. "Is this a trap? Why are you being so cooperative?"

"This isn't cooperation. It's desperation. I just want to get out of here."

She didn't believe me. "Once we're in the pit, you're going to try to find the Blade first. Is that it?"

"What difference would that make? Even if I found it, I can't touch it."

"No, but maybe you know a Halderian who could. Do you think Gerald could become the Infidante?"

I laughed, and meant every snort of it. "Gerald? He's no warrior."

"True." Trina tilted her head as though in thought. "But there will be a new Infidante soon!" She began changing, obviously eager to be finished with servants' clothing, her expression brightening. Perhaps she was imagining holding the Olden Blade. "Surely you can feel a little excitement."

Tags: Jennifer A. Nielsen The Traitor's Game Fantasy
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