Chapter 60
White lace peeked from under the hem of my long black skirt, my matching jacket buttoned neatly almost to my neck, white piping following the feminine lapels. Diara pinned my hair, securing my riding hat in place, then helped me lace my boots when I found my corseted waist was so tight I couldn’t bend.
“You don’t have to go with him if you don’t want to, you know,” Diara said, knotting my stays.
I chuckled at my friend’s sense of protection. “He’s harmless.”
Her mouth flattened but she said nothing.
Hadrian waited for me in cream-colored pants and an indigo jacket, his own riding hat tall and shiny. Holding the door for me, he nodded in greeting, eyes shifting to Diara.
“Good morning, Lady Diana.”
She tensed. “Good morning.”
Cringing, I waited as she walked away, my feet settled in my stirrups, and casually said, “It’s Lady Diara.”
Halfway through swinging onto his horse, Hadrian slowed, absorbing my words. I thought I caught a curse muttered under his breath.
He led me down a trail of skinny fir trees and low hills.
Neither of us spoke at first, listening to the sounds of the woods. A furry little animal with a bushy tail scurried across the limbs of the trees, his body a blur until he stopped, tilting his head to stare down at us and then racing off. The woods were full of them.
Ahead, Hadrian cleared his throat and gazed up at a moony face with a hooked beak. An owl—bigger and sharper than the owls in Leihani.
“What is the name of this forest?” I asked, watching the owl as it watched us, its head rotating slowly over its shoulder.
“This is Corram Wood. These trees go deep into the north, all the way to Merriam.” As though realizing I could only see the back of his head, he waited. We rode astride for a while, quietly enjoying the landscape. Behind us, the owl hooted.
“Merriam,” I echoed. “Where your uncle lives.”
“Prince Marcus,” he said, supplying the name.
I nodded softly. “And his wife, Katerina, and their sons Callisto and Gaius.”
Hadrian lifted his eyes to mine, then returned to watching the bare trunks of the trees. The limbs stretched high over our heads, flocked with a thick canopy of green needles. “You’re a bit full of yourself, aren’t you?” he asked.
There was nothing I could do but laugh under my breath. “If you think so, Your Highness, then I must be.”
He snorted. I turned my face away, glaring into the woods, and he chuckled behind my head. “Did they use the cold shoulder in Leihani, or did Thaan train you to use it?”
“Both,” I deadpanned. I’d wondered if this was why he’d invited me to ride alone with him.
He smiled at my tone, somehow amused. “Easily provoked? People will rattle you the rest of your life now that you’ve married into the crown.”
“No wonder it humors you to rattle someone else, then,” I replied, watching the bushy-tailed creatures flit about.
From the corner of my eye, Hadrian stretched, arching his back. He laid one hand over the other on the horn of his saddle. “It’s more that I’m so used to it, I don’t notice it anymore. Especially when I do it.”
“Seems like you notice and enjoy it.” I twisted in my seat, looking squarely at him. “For someone who considers me to be an enemy, you don’t appear concerned about offending me.”
A hint of a smile shadowed his lips. “Perhaps it’s safer to offend. To keep people at arm’s length.”
“That’s stupid,” I said. He blinked back a look of surprise, though his cool exterior remained. “Wouldn’t it be safer to be cordial, allow the suspected enemy to feel they are close to you without giving confidential information away, until you came to know their true nature?”
I was fully aware of the tightrope I walked. I’d been contracted to kill him, and Kye had been right when he’d said I was a terrible liar. All Hadrian had to do was ask outright what my intentions were here in Calder, and he’d discover the truth. It would be written all over my face.
He sniggered and swung his reins to the side, his gelding cutting off my own horse. My mare stamped in irritation, champing her bit like she’d have liked to bite his horse’s flank.
“Who are you to Thaan?” Hadrian demanded. “Why is he suddenly so interested, so invested in mylife?”
Ah. Here we go. Mihauna grant me luck.
I opened my mouth, though I didn’t know what to say. Who was I to Thaan? A tool, more than anything. A means to an end—though I didn’t understand what, other than to someday murder the man before me.
“He”s an old…he”s my father’s…business partner.”
I forced myself to meet his eyes, clamping my mouth shut so I couldn’t cringe at my own sorry attempt to dissemble.
His eyes narrowed on me. “I’d think your cover story would be better than that. He is your sponsor, your chaperone while here in Calder. Usually that would make him distant relation. Is he an uncle? A cousin of your father’s?”
“N-no,” I stammered.
Hadrian’s smile curled. “Do you even know who he is? What he does?”
I couldn’t say I did, and my blank-faced silence spoke for itself.
“He used to run the finances for the kingdom. He was in charge of the banks. The crown’s purse and coffers. Now, he’s head of the war council, the lead emissary, and royal matchmaker.” Hadrian tilted his head. “What claws does he have in my father’s hide? Do you not see how it looks through my eyes, when Thaan’s little islander nobody is shoved toward my family like a glass of wine? When my brother tells me in private he doesn’t trust you, but in public he announces his intentions to marry you? When he then tells me to forget my worries and apprehensions, because all is well, I must simply drink that glass of wine alongside him? Would you not wonder whether there’s poison in the glass? Who is Thaan to you?”
My pulse beat against my temples. I swallowed. “I don’t know him very well—”
“Oh, please.” Hadrian rolled his eyes, sliding off his saddle to throw the reins over a tree branch. Shuffling next to me, he offered a hand to help me dismount. I glanced around, suddenly uneasy, my feet hitting the forest floor.
Clearing his throat, Hadrian turned, climbing over a fallen log as he breached the side of the trail, veering into the dense wood. “Come on.”
What now?
I inhaled through my nose, trying to catch his scent. But I couldn”t detect the heated metal of anger, nor the sour scent of fear. Unlike Kye, Hadrian seemed to temper his emotions so well I couldn”t smell anything but the salty sea past the trees.
Birds quieted as we traipsed through the forest. Twigs and leaves snapped beneath Hadrian’s boots. When he upended a large rock under a bush, something small scurried to escape. My eyes darted to the blur—and without warning, something grabbed me.
I should’ve seen it coming. His heart hammered against his lungs as he pressed my back against a tree, a hand over each of my wrists. I shoved at him, but he had me pinned. The scent of mint lifted in the air as he pressed close, and I realized the eyes in front of mine were golden brown.