23. Ask Me Anything #2
God, help me. How did I always get myself into these conversations?
It was one of the reasons I’d enjoyed Bren’s company so much. She seemed to speak quite frankly. Yet, instead of sending every man running, they were all enthralled.
I’d wondered how she did that. And whether I could learn it.
“You don’t have to answer that,” I said finally, when I realized he’d been quiet for several seconds. “I am tired and thoughtless and I just—”
“You aren’t repulsive,” he said quietly. “Not in the slightest.”
My heart leaped in the same moment I frowned. Deeply. I looked at him over my shoulder. “The first time you set eyes on me, you despised me, though we’d never met.”
His eyes were averted. He stared down, gaze unfocused. Then his Adam’s apple bobbed.
“When we met, I had other concerns. Primarily about your influence on Bren. I can be sharp with my words when I am focused.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” I said primly, turning to face front again, though my hands still trembled on the strap.
Voski huffed a half-laugh, but then went silent again. I felt his gaze on the back of my neck. The skin prickled.
“You aren’t repulsive, Grace,” he repeated.
I couldn’t make myself turn around again.
I was simultaneously giddy because his voice was rough, and terrified because there was a tone of warning in it.
“If you require assurance I’m not simply offering words, I believe you’ve seen demonstrable evidence to the contrary.
But, I acknowledge, it’s my fault you believe that. ”
I shrugged and opened my mouth to tell him not to worry, though I yearned for him to tell me more. But he sighed and shifted his seat.
“There were many reasons not to trust you in Fyrehold,” he said quietly. His words were clipped. Uncertain. “But, it’s also true that I struggle to trust others at all. Even those I’ve known for years. That isn’t personal to you.”
I struggled to breathe. “I haven’t lied to you,” I said quietly.
Voski sighed. “Please, do not see this as anger—but frankly, that’s a bullshit statement. You could lie about lying. I wouldn’t know. I don’t know you well enough to be sure. Can we agree that I need to be kinder, and you need to accept that I mean what I say, and leave it at that?”
“I would say yes,” I said carefully. “But I have so many questions. And I fear that only you can answer them. Yet, you see everything as a reason to mistrust me. So, how do I get answers if they aren’t from you?”
“Answers about what?” he asked warily.
“Bren,” I said promptly. “Who she really is. What she’s doing—she’s Chosen, isn’t she?
She was lying about just working with the dragons and Donavyn.
They’re together and she’s a Furyknight like you—or training at least, correct?
But I thought that only happened to men, so why does she exist?
Why do I? And why can’t you rest when we stop? What are you guarding against?”
He stiffened. “Those matters are not for you—”
“If I’m going to prove to you that I’m an ally, that I can be trusted, how do I do that unless I carry something with discretion, to prove that I won’t breach your confidence?”
“I’ve told you,” he said shortly. “You prove your trustworthiness by taking instruction, not complaining, working hard, and applying yourself. The rest will come with time.”
“What are you hiding? What are we walking into? And don’t tell me nothing—I grew up in the court.
Those people aren’t as brainless as they appear.
I know worry, and scheming when I see it.
Bren disappeared, and so did her general.
And you immediately left the castle. You’re planning something.
You all are. Something I almost discovered. Right?”
“That is none—”
“I want to help!”
I’d snapped my head around so he could see my eyes, but he was already glaring at me, his jaw tight. As I stared, he leaned closer to emphasize his words.
“You are not in a position to help. You are someone with secrets. And until you’ve proven yourself loyal, staring with big eyes won’t convince me otherwise,” he said through his teeth.
God, he was so frustrating!
“My secrets are only mine. They’re only to protect myself!” I protested.
“I saw you in the walls, Grace.”
“Because I was looking for Bren!”
“So you say—”
“So it is. Ask me! Anything! All of it. I’ll tell you anything.”
He rolled his eyes, but I had the distinct impression it was because he couldn’t bear to hold my gaze any further. “A liar can lie to your face—”
“The dragons will know, won’t they?”
He went still. “Know what?”
“If I’m lying. Won’t Koa be able to tell?”
His eyes darted to his dragon, then aside to Koa who flew next to us. She lifted her head and called, and Kham answered.
‘Thank you,’ I sent to her.
‘Stay your course, Firebird. He needs challenge.’
I pressed my lips together so I wouldn’t smile, because the image she sent me was of Voski, strutting as if he were arrogant and self-absorbed—and tripping on a tree root.
When I could meet his gaze without laughing, I cleared my throat and looked over my shoulder again. He stared at me intently, his eyes dark. Not with anger, but something far more fragile.
I swallowed. “I mean it,” I said quietly. “Ask me. Anything. I’ll tell you. I am trustworthy. And whatever’s happening to Bren, I want to help.”