His sloppy grin faded, and he leaned closer. “Not always. Never.”
“What’s the matter? You’re feeling guilty this time and hope the God of Grain will absolve you?”
His brows pulled down. “I don’t feel guilty about anything. I’m a soldier and you’re a … a … you’re one of them. A royal. You’re all the same.”
“And you know so many.”
A snarl crept across his lip. “You and your visions. You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”
I was doing exactly what he would do in my position—trying to survive. Did he expect to drag me across the continent and have me politely follow?
I smiled. “They don’t know what I’m doing. That’s all that matters. And you won’t tell them.”
He brought his face closer to mine. “Don’t be so sure. You’re— I’m one of them. I’m Vendan. Don’t forget that.”
How could I forget? But it seemed useless to argue with him. He could barely speak without stumbling over his words—and his face was getting far too close to mine.
“Kaden, you need to—”
“You’re too smart for your own good, you know that? You knew what I said in there. You know what all of us say—”
“Your barbaric gibberish? How would I know? I don’t even care. Get out, Kaden!” I tried to push him away, but he slumped against me, his face buried in my hair, every muscle of his body pressing close to mine. I couldn’t breathe.
“I heard you,” he whispered in my ear. “That night. I heard you tell Pauline that you found me attractive.”
His hand reached up and touched my hair. He gathered the strands in his hand and squeezed them, and then he whispered into my ear the same words he’d said in the tent—and more. My temples pounded. His breath was hot on my cheek as he spoke, and his lips brushed my neck, lingering.
He leaned back, and I caught my breath. “You’re not—” He swayed, his eyes losing focus. “For your own good too.…” He stumbled to the side, catching the wall. “Now I have to sleep on—lookout,” he said, pushing me aside. “I’m going to sleep right outside your wagon. Because I don’t trust you. Lia. You’re too—” His eyelids drooped. “And now Malich.”
He fell back against the door, his eyes closed, and he slid to the floor, still sitting upright. All I had to do was open the door and he’d tumble out backward, but with my luck, he’d break his neck going down the steps, and I’d be left with Malich to deal with.
I stared at him passed out, his head lolling to the side. Some protection he’d be against Malich, but the whole lot of them were probably just as stupid drunk by now.
I pulled the lace curtain aside and opened the shuttered window. Now might be an opportune time to run if they were all like this, but I saw Malich, Griz, and Finch over near the horses. They still looked sure enough on their feet. Maybe Kaden had been telling the truth and he wasn’t used to so much drink. At the tavern, he had always been careful and composed, never having more than two ciders. I could drink that many without feeling a thing. What had made him drink so much tonight?
I closed the shutter and looked back at Kaden, his mouth hanging open. I smiled, thinking about how his head would feel in the morning. I grabbed a pillow from Reena’s bed and threw it on the floor next to him, then pushed on his shoulder. He fell onto the pillow, never stirring.
It was true. I had told Pauline that I thought he was attractive. He was fit, muscular, and as Gwyneth pointed out more than once, very easy on the eyes. I had also shared that I found his demeanor captivating, grave and calming at the same time. He had intrigued me. But Pauline and I were inside the cottage when we had talked about him. Had he been spying on us? Listening at the window? He’s an assassin, I reminded myself. What else should I expect? I tried to remember the other things Pauline and I had talked about. My gods, what else had he heard?
I sighed. I couldn’t worry about that now.
I crawled onto the thick mattress and pulled one of Reena’s colorful quilts over me. I turned on my side, looking at Kaden, wondering why he hated royals so. But it was clear he didn’t really hate me, just the idea of who I was, just as I hated the idea of who he was: It made me think how different everything might have been if we had both been born in Terravin.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
I watched Dihara for the better part of an hour from the window before I stepped over the still-sleeping Kaden and left the wagon to approach her. She sat on a stool near the fire in the center of camp brushing her long silver hair and weaving it back into braids. Next she rubbed a yellow balm into her elbows and knuckles. Her movements were slow and methodical, as if she had done this every morning for a thousand years. That was almost how old she looked, but her shoulders weren’t hunched, and she was certainly still strong. She had carried a spinning wheel all the way into the meadow yesterday. A short stalk of grass bounced from the corner of her mouth as she chewed it.
One thing I knew from watching her was that there was something different about her. It was that same different I saw in Rafe and Kaden when they first walked into the tavern. That same different I saw when I looked at the Scholar. Something that couldn’t quite be hidden, whether good or bad. Something that swept into you as light as a feather or maybe sat in your gut like a heavy rock, but you knew it was there either way. There was something unusual enough about Dihara that it made me think she might really know more about the gift.
Her eyes lifted to mine as I approached. “Thank you for the book,” I said. “It was useful.”
She pressed her hands to her knees and stood. It seemed she’d been waiting for me. “Let’s go to the meadow. I’ll teach you what I know.”
We stopped in the middle of a patch of clover. She lifted a strand of my hair, dropped it, then circled around me. She sniffed the air and shook her head. “You’re weak in the gift, but then you’ve had much practice in ignoring it.”
“You know that by sniffing?”
For the first time, she smiled, a puff of air escaping her wrinkled lips almost in a laugh. She took my hand. “Let’s walk.” The meadow spread the length of the valley, and we wound through it heading toward no particular destination. “You’re young, child. I sense you’re quite strong in other gifts, perhaps the ones you were meant to nurture, but it doesn’t mean it’s too late for you to learn something of