Blood of the Guardian (27 page)

“You could find your own food,” Megan suggested, a touch of malice in her voice.

Kael leaned against the tree, a smug grin creeping onto his face. “Your Majesty. I gave him an excuse to get away.”

Her annoyance with him vanished, replaced with shock. Kael Trividar, the arrogant general of the entire Rol’dan army, the same man who made lewd comments and flirted with anything equipped with breasts, had done Maska a favor? She hadn’t even thought he considered anybody besides himself.

His mouth quirked, and he gave a small bow. With a quick turn, he returned to the fire.

Megan watched him swagger away, pretending not to notice how well he did it. She shook her head, remembering her husband—the king, for Brim’s sake—was more handsome, more gentle, more caring than him.

Kat came to her side, catching Megan’s inspection. “Many women get caught up in that piece of work.”

Megan cocked her head. “Many women?”

“Not me. But he’s
tried
many times … and almost succeeded a few of them.”

Megan laughed.

Kat shrugged. “I think it drives the general crazy that someone’s told him no.”

Kael stretched by the fire, his movements deliberate. His eyes flicked to them, and he grinned.

“Is he always like that?” Megan asked.

“Like what?”

“So … so intense.”

She snickered. “He’s being respectful to you since you’re married to the king. If he were truly interested, he’d have you pressed up against one of those trees tracing kisses down your neck while trying to take off your clothes.”

She turned to Kat, eyebrows raised. “And how would you know this?”

She smiled. “Like I said … almost.”

Crickets chirped. An owl hooted. Kat and Megan sat away from the others, just outside the fire’s light. The sounds of night whispered, surrounding them. Megan liked Kat; she was unlike any of the other girls she’d known. She spoke her mind, never resorting to hints and giggles like a lot of her previous friends. With Kat, you always knew where you stood.

“Speaking of such things,” Kat said, her hazel eyes glinting, “how is married life?”

Megan snorted in reply.

Kat’s smile faded. “What’s wrong?”

“Emery doesn’t want to touch me.”

“Have you let him know what you want?”

Megan threw up her arms. “Crows, Kat. He can read emotions.”

She cringed. “Then he knows.”

In muted whispers, Megan shared what had happened that morning, leaving out the more embarrassing details. Kat nodded, her brows furrowing at the appropriate parts. When she finished, Kat didn’t speak; she only sat in contemplative silence. The soldiers by the fire laughed.

“Well,” Kat finally said. “It seems clear to me.”

The whole situation was as clear as drudging mud from the bottom of the Curlew River. “And what would that be?”

“Since he knows what you want,” she said, “you need to
show
him instead, like you did this morning. If he won’t take action, then you need to. Up your game. Do more of the same.”

Megan’s moment of bravery flashed in her head. She swallowed, panic rising. Could she be so bold again?

The branches rustled, and Maska broke into the clearing. Several furry bundles lay tossed over his shoulder, sending trails of blood down his chiseled back. Megan couldn’t tell what they’d once been; the poor creatures’ heads had been beaten into a pulp—probably Maska’s attempt to relieve frustration. At least they hadn’t suffered long.

A cheer rang from the other men. They took his load and skinned and prepared their meal. Maska didn’t speak; he only turned and strode back into the woods.

Megan’s eyes drifted toward Rayen, still at Alec’s side. Her dark hair hung in her face, long enough to brush the ground. Megan wondered if the girl knew what had happened back in Faylinn.

“Does she know?” Kat asked, her mind apparently on the same question.

“Don’t know. But someone should tell her.” Megan wiped her hands on her riding breeches and stood. Considering the Rol’dan had killed her father, it would be best coming from someone else. And considering their entire group was Rol’dan, except for Megan, the task should rest on her.

Kat squeezed her arm. “Good luck.”

Megan nodded, licking her dry lips. She didn’t know if Rayen knew her language well enough to understand. Megan would try anyway.

Chapter Twenty-Five

AFTER THREE DAYS’ TRAVEL, they reached the front gates of Faylinn. They rushed Alec to a bed, which was a whole lot better than the stick litter he’d been dragged on for days. Megan healed him again, smoothing away the bruises and sores from his rough travel. The scowl lines on his face relaxed as he sunk into the soft bed.

“If we only had the stones,” Megan said, stepping into the hall.

Emery rubbed his beard and released a long sigh. “I’ve sent scouts to search for any Talasian activities. They will inform me if they see Nolan. At least he’s hard to miss.”

Megan nodded, forcing back the tension she’d held for days. More than likely, they’d find Nolan spreading his nightforsaken light to some town. He’d run back to Faylinn as soon as he knew Alec was unwell.

Tenderness touched Emery’s eyes. He wore his hair down today, not tied back as he usually did. Wavy black strands rested on his shoulders, with a few white hairs sprinkled in—the only thing revealing his age.

He gently picked up her hand, sending tremors up her arm. “How was your trip?”

“Fine,” she said. “Where’s the princess?”

“In her room.”

Megan nodded, her heart sinking for the girl. When she’d spoken to her a few nights prior, Megan had told her about her father—she hadn’t known. Rayen didn’t understand Megan enough to comprehend the gory details, which was fine. Megan had no desire to inform her that her father had been strung up like a slaughtered deer. She’d leave that information on Alec’s hands.

“Are you okay?” Emery asked.

“Just thinking about that poor girl. Her father is dead and … isn’t she the ruler now?”

“I believe so. So young, angry, and confused. I can feel so much from her. Hopefully, by the time her people return, she’ll be well enough to stop a war.”

Megan rolled her neck, releasing a long sigh.

“You should rest,” Emery suggested. “Take a bath. You did a lot with Alec.”

She waved her hand dismissively, but it was hard to forget the infection she’d absorbed. “It’s what I do.”

“You are the king’s wife. What you’ll do now is rest. I’ll have the staff prepare a warm bath and lay out clean clothes.”

A bath did sound good. She eyed Emery, remembering her conversation with Kat. She dropped her gaze to her shoes. “You could … join me?”

“Megan—”

Before he could spew his logic, Megan slammed her lips against his. He tried to pull away, but she kept him locked in place by dragging her hands through his soft hair. For a moment he responded, then he stiffened.

She broke away invigorated, until she noticed the scowl on his face. He opened his mouth to say something, then changed his mind. He pushed her by her shoulders, turned, and walked away.

She blinked, stunned. She touched her mouth, the taste of him still on her lips. Rejection hammered her into the ground.
What have I done?

***

The warm water caressed her tired muscles. Healing could take care of aches and pains, but it did little for fatigue. She ran a hand across her abdomen and caressed the bump, the beginning of her secret revealing itself. It wouldn’t be much longer until everyone knew.

Rubbing the sweet, floral soap over her arms, her neck, her hair, she wondered if Emery’s rejection had to do with the baby. Did her body look swollen? Malformed? Ugly? She sank further into the water to rinse off the soap. Her hair splayed around her, floating in the disappearing bubbles—the red tints turned nearly black as they saturated with water. She wiped her eyes, though the tears had long fallen. She was the wife of the king. Why did she feel so alone?

The door creaked opened, and she turned, expecting one of the lady servants to come refresh the water. She’d soaked so long they’d done it three times already. Kat entered, dressed in the male uniform of the Speed Rol’dan, as she always did. She pulled a chair from the side of the room and sat next to the tub, leaning her elbows on her knees.

“My guess is,” Kat said after a prolonged silence, “something happened between you and the king?”

Megan cocked her head toward her friend.

“He’s a foul beast in the throne room. Did you have a fight?”

Megan smiled, the first she’d done since her confrontation with Emery. “Not a fight, really. I just tried to … up my game.”

Kat sat up, smirking. “And?”

“He rejected me.”

“Well, you nudged a sore spot, for certain. The staff is walking on eggshells. He’s telling them to clean things they already cleaned yesterday, and half the Rol’dan are now training in the cold rain.”

A pattering of raindrops on the window emphasized Kat’s comment. At least the weather had held until they had returned home. She set the bar of soap on the side table.

Kat skimmed her fingertips across Megan’s bathwater. “I suspected it might have something to do with you.”

“I only kissed him.”

“Must’ve been quite a kiss.”

She shrugged, her shoulder raising from the water and going back in. “Little good it did. He pushed me away.”

“You got his attention. It’s eating him up enough that he’s taking it out on everyone else.”

Megan flung water at her. Kat laughed and blocked the spray.

“How does that help?” Megan asked. “Besides making the kingdom miserable.”

Kat wiped a sleeve across her face, grinning. “It’s for a good cause.”

“Why am I taking advice from you, anyway? It’s not like you’ve had much luck either.” The words left her mouth before she could stop them. Kat’s smiled faded into a scowl.

Kat leaned back onto her chair, stretching her feet in front of her and crossing her arms over her chest. “He’s your husband.
I
have a crush on a god.”

“Nolan is not a god.”

“Really?”

Megan searched her mind for an argument but came up blank. He
was
almost like a god now. But the core of him held the same quiet boy she’d met when he’d been a scribe. He couldn’t help being all-powerful and built like no other living man.

“I think he likes you,” Megan said quickly. “Remember that night in my room? His hands were all over you.”

An uncharacteristic blush rose to Kat’s cheeks. “It was a good night.”

They met each other’s eyes and laughed. Then Kat’s smile faded. “If he was so interested in me, why did he leave?”

“Don’t know. We’ll ask him when he gets back.” Megan shivered; her water was getting cold. “Give him some time. Or, you could always ‘up your game.’”

“Crows, Meg. Not sure what else I could do. He can read my thoughts, and they aren’t very proper.”

Megan giggled. “Maybe with Nolan, you need to step back. You might be frightening him.”

A knock sounded at the door. Kat stood and opened it a crack. “Yes?”

The voice of a servant sounded from the other side. “King Emery has requested Queen Megan’s presence. He’s received word on The Emissary”

As soon as the door closed, Megan jumped from the tub and threw on clothes. Kat, using her Speed, fetched items she needed, and within a few minutes, they were running down the hall. They entered the throne room, breathless and getting several odd looks from other soldiers and serving staff because of Megan’s soggy hair. A young, female Rol’dan stood before Emery near the throne.

Megan had seen her from time to time but had never spoken to her. When Emery saw Megan, he averted his gaze.

Megan grunted. He was being ridiculous, wasn’t he? She’d only kissed him.

“So where is he?” Megan asked, addressing the soldier.

The girl bowed before speaking. “I scouted near Grell and heard of some strange events in connection with a gypsy circus.”

“What does this have to do with the Emissary?” Megan asked.

“Continue, Lieutenant,” Emery said.

The girl nodded. “Rumors said a band of gypsies was able to wield the Shay powers. So, wanting to find out all I could, I dressed in common clothes and went to their circus of oddities.” She swallowed, glancing from one of them to another. “The Emissary was one of their caged beasts.”

Megan started. “Are you sure?”

“Aye. He is hard to forget. And he didn’t look so well. They kept stabbing him and making him heal. By the time I left that night, he looked near death.

“I would’ve done something, Your Majesty,” the girl continued, looking at Emery’s stony expression, “but there were so many of them, and the rumors of their Shay powers are true!”

“I don’t blame you, Lieutenant. You were right to come here instead.”