Grayson lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it.
The corner of her mouth rose. “What was that for?”
He kept his lips against her smooth skin. “For everything.”
Mia squeezed his hand. “You don’t need to thank me.”
He’d spend the rest of his life thanking her.
She tugged their hands down and lifted her chin, placing a soft kiss against his jaw. “I love you,” she whispered.
A thrill shot through him. “I love you.” He traced histhumb over hers, tightening his hold around her shoulders. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “My father is sending me on another mission.”
Mia lifted her head, wariness pinching her features as she sensed the gravity in his words. “This is different from the others, isn’t it?”
He nodded.
Worry creased her brow. “Is it dangerous?”
“You don’t need to worry about me.”
She sent him a pointed look.
His mouth twitched ruefully. “You really don’t need to.”
Mia bit her lip. “Where are you going?”
“Mortise. Liam and I are both going. We received a royal invitation from Prince Desfan. We leave in a week.”
Mia stared. Panic, dread, and fear swam in her brown eyes.
Fates. He shouldn’t have said it like that—just announced he was leaving for another kingdom in mere days.
She visibly struggled to find her voice. “H-how long will you be gone?”
“I don’t know. A long time. Months.” He could feel the tension coiling her body and he tightened his hold on her hand. “You’ll be safe, I promise.”
Mia glanced away, her grip on his hand almost painfully tight. “What are you doing in Mortise?”
He wouldn’t upset her with the truth. “My father is sending us as emissaries to open peace talks.”
She actually snorted, her eyes still averted. “Your father doesn’t want peace.” She shook her head. “I hate this. I hate that you have to do everything he says. I wish I could go with you. I wish . . .”
He lowered his eyes. “I wish things were different, too.”
Mia slipped her hand free of his, but only so she could lift her hand to cup his cheek. The ball of her thumb skated across his cheekbone, prompting him to fully meet her gaze. “Promise me you’ll come back.”
Grayson wrapped a hand around her wrist, his eyes intent.“Always,” he reminded her. He didn’t want to kill again, but if a stranger’s death protected Mia, he knew what choice he’d make. It was the same choice he’d made mere hours ago.
Grayson wouldn’t hesitate when the time came, no matter who his target turned out to be.
Chapter 45
Clare
Clare’s fingers twitched at her sides as she stepped into the castle courtyard. The carriage waited for her and soldiers were already on their mounts. The journey to Mortise was about to begin.
Soldiers and servants bowed as Clare passed, none of them knowing the real Serene had already left with a limited guard earlier that morning, taking a different route. For all intents and purposes, Clare was the princess. It felt like her first time playing the decoy all over again. Her stomach roiled and she was grateful she hadn’t forced herself to eat breakfast.
The coming weeks were uncertain. The rebels would have easier access to her, making them a very real threat. She would be Serene almost constantly and the smallest thing might trip her. Grandeur’s ring was heavy in her pocket, a reminder of all the deception surrounding her—the secrets she was a part of. Beside the ring was the dented tin soldier, bringing memories of her family and home. She still hadn’t heard from Eliot and she hated to leave before they could reach a full understanding. But she had Bennick, the soldier who would always protect her. And she had all the skills her teachers had imparted. She prayed it would be enough.
Amil hadn’t left the castle yet, but he would reach Mortise weeks before the ambling tour did. He’d have plenty of time to sway Serjah Desfan’s opinion and jeopardize the alliance. Clarehoped the serjah wouldn’t be easily influenced. As much as she hated to agree with Newlan, peace was in Devendra’s best interest, and she didn’t want Amil to destroy it in his need for revenge.
When Clare reached the carriage, she saw Bennick standing beside Master Lank, who was double-checking the harnesses for the horses. The stable master appeared to have aged a decade overnight and Bennick’s hand on his shoulder seemed to be the only thing steadying him.
Clare joined them, and the stable master looked into her eyes and kept his voice low so it wouldn’t carry to the others. “I’m sorry, Clare.” His thin voice cracked. “He wasn’t in his right mind.”
“You don’t need to apologize.” Clare settled her hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Master Lank’s throat bobbed. “So am I. But those we love don’t always choose the path we wish them to.” He gave a final pat to the nearest horse’s neck before bowing in farewell and walking slowly away.
Venn passed him, heading toward the carriage. He was bandaged and walking carefully, but grinning and chatting with Vera and Ivonne. Wilf followed close behind, scowling. The sight used to flood Clare with unease, but now that she knew he was no longer a threat, the predictability of his gruffness made her smile a little. Cardon and Dirk had gone with Serene, but everyone else herewould stand beside her—a family she’d somehow joined—and with that realization came an inexplicable calm.
“Ready, Your Highness?” Bennick asked, extending a hand.
Clare set her gloved hand in his, the corner of her mouth lifting. “I am.”
Bennick’s blue eyes warmed as he returned her smile, and Clare stepped into the carriage.
The story continues in Royal Spy
Book 2 of the Fate of Eyrinthia series
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
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