Spy's Honor

His grin widened. “That wouldn’t have been as much fun.” He lowered his hand so the animal could run down it and jump off, and swept her into his arms.

She’d been thinking about this kiss since the night before, imagining it, even wondering if she should protest, though she knew deep down she wouldn’t. She’d never kissed a man before, yet some rebellious side of her had been wanting to kiss Janto almost since the day she’d met him. It was unseemly for a princess to get involved with a slave. But Janto wasn’t a slave—not really. And gods, did she want her first kiss to come from Augustan? Janto’s lips were warm and soft, and his mouth fit hers perfectly. She wondered about that—were mouths supposed to fit? Did that always happen?

Nervous and bewildered, she tried to figure out what was expected of her. What was she supposed to do with her lips, her tongue? But when Janto tilted her head just so, as if to savor her, she grasped that all she had to do was give herself up and surrender to his kiss. He held her, one arm around her waist and the other stroking her hair, her throat, coaxing her to yield. Something fluttered deep inside her. Her legs trembled, and she relaxed into his grip. He led, and she followed, and her mouth knew exactly what to do.

“Gods, Rhianne,” he whispered against her lips.

“How long did you wait for me?”

“All my life.” He grinned. “Oh, you mean just now. A while, but you were worth it.”

She twisted out of his arms in sudden fear. “We could be seen. You’re visible now.”

“No, I’m not,” said Janto, taking her by the hand and drawing her gently back. “And neither are you. When I become visible to you, one of two things just happened. Either I dropped my shroud, or I extended it to include you. If I extended it, and that’s what I did, we’re both invisible to the outside world but visible to each other.”

“Oh.” She looked around, taking in the bridge and the forest. “We’re both invisible?”

“Yes. No one saw you kissing a filthy, animal-loving Mosari.”

She pressed herself against him, shivering with pleasure as his arms snaked around her. “And no one saw you with a cruel, thieving Kjallan. Was that your familiar I saw?”

“My ferret, Sashi,” said Janto. “He’s gone hunting. He doesn’t like to be around for this sort of thing.”

Rhianne laughed softly and enjoyed the sight of his warm smile. But then her expression grew dark again. “You have to leave the country, you know.”

“You’re making it difficult.”

“I mean it.” Sobering, she pulled away and unfolded the paper from the prison archivist. “I found your spy.”

He snatched the paper from her hand, and his eyes moved rapidly over its contents. When he came to the key passages, his expression changed. He swallowed, blinked, and sat heavily on a nearby rock. “The prison archives. Of course. Your people record everything.”

“Is that the man you were looking for?”

He scrubbed his face with his hands. “I believe so. I should have found this myself. I was in that prison.”

“You wouldn’t have found it in there,” said Rhianne. “It was older and in storage.”

He shook his head and stared at a spot off in the trees, looking pale and sick. “You’d know where to look. His name was Ral-Vaddis. Doesn’t matter if you know now.”

Rhianne bit her lip. He looked desolate, parched of his usual spirit. Surely he must have known the spy would be dead. But if he’d come here to search for the man, he must have harbored some hope that the man lived, and she’d smothered that hope. He’d greeted her with a kiss, and all she had to offer him was crushing disappointment. She wished she could kiss him again, but clearly his mind was on other things. “I’m afraid the rest of what I have to say isn’t much cheerier. I couldn’t get anywhere on stopping Micah. I tried, but . . . well, it didn’t work.”

“What did you try?” asked Janto.

“I asked the emperor to intervene, and he refused.”

“Surely that’s not the only way to solve this problem.”

Rhianne hesitated. She hadn’t planned to pursue this further once Florian had turned her down. But Janto was so upset about the dead spy, and he was going to lose his entire country soon. She hated to disappoint him again, and he was right. There had to be another way. “I know someone who’s a great tactical thinker. He might have an idea.”

Janto turned to her, his face lighting with a shred of hope.

“We can talk to him together, maybe come up with a plan. If it’s not something I can carry out, it might be something you could, with your shroud, or . . . who knows. If I arrange to have the door opened for you, can you sneak into my rooms?”

“How are your rooms warded?” asked Janto.

“There’s an enemy ward across my door, attuned to me. You should be able to pass that. I would hope you could.”

“I can pass it. What about wards in the halls? And how do I find your rooms?”

She drew him a quick map in the dirt. “There are no wards in the halls. Only across doorways.” She eyed him significantly. “But there will be invisibility wards in the hallways if anyone suspects there’s a shroud mage operating in the palace. That’s how your Ral-Vaddis got caught, and you’ll get caught too if you don’t leave. I’m giving you two more days before I raise the alarm.”

He gave her a wry smile. “Then we’ll work quickly. You’d better get back so you can open the door for me.”

13

Janto believed he had found the entrance to Rhianne’s rooms. Before the arched doorway stood her bodyguard, Tamienne, and another orange-garbed Legaciattus. Two huge, black ironwood doors stood sentinel as well, barred shut through heavy silver rings as thick as Janto’s wrist. One might think Rhianne was a prisoner in her own chambers.

Janto waited in silence until a tapping of footsteps down the hall indicated the arrival of a uniformed servant, who bore a jug of wine on a tray. The guards removed the bar and, grasping the silver rings, dragged the doors open to let the servant through. Janto trailed after him.

Inside was a receiving room, lavishly furnished with couches, chairs, and carved tables. Rhianne lounged on one of the chairs, reading a novel. With a flick of her wrist, she indicated an end table, and the servant placed the wine upon it.

Janto, unable to reveal himself until the servant left, wandered in farther and placed Sashi on the floor to give the place a sniff. An arched entryway led from the receiving room to a sitting room with a well-stocked bookcase and seating for ten people or more.

I smell brindlecat, said Sashi.

Janto remembered the brindlecat Rhianne’s fiance had given her. Now he scanned the room with alert eyes, searching for the predator. A ferret was no match for a brindlecat kitten. He saw no signs of it, but such creatures loved to hide and spring on their prey unawares. Ride on my shoulder, just in case. Janto lowered his arm, and Sashi scampered back up.

The door shut behind the departing servant. Rhianne rose to her feet, looking around eagerly, and Janto released his shroud. “Alligator,” he said.

She turned, and a smile lit her face. He started to speak, but she pressed a finger to her lips, beckoned, and moved through the archway into the sitting room.

Janto followed her as she passed under a second archway into an enormous bedroom. He swallowed and stared at the bed, a cream and gold monstrosity piled high with goose down pillows.

“Don’t get any ideas,” said Rhianne. “This is the farthest room from the door guards and the place we’re least likely to be overheard.”

Janto hoped his embarrassment didn’t show. “I would not dream of debauching an imperial princess of Kjall. Unless, of course, she wanted me to.”