14 #2
Never would she have imagined that he would join the Criterion.
They had walked past dozens of rallies, and he had shown as much interest in them as he had in doing her chores for her.
They’d never talked about it, but they rarely talked about anything real.
She had just assumed that he felt the same as her.
Then again, people had to do ugly things to survive the streets of Rojanea. Who was Marisol to judge him? At least he believed he was doing good.
No, he was doing good. The Criterion wanted to overthrow the witches to restore Coventry’s independence, and, in the meantime, they executed attacks like these to redistribute the wealth that the witches were hoarding.
Marisol wanted to overthrow the witches because a Domingan lord had promised her that doing so would help her get revenge on a boy she hadn’t seen since she was seven.
She pressed the backs of her hands against her eyelids until they flashed red. She couldn’t think of Rodrigo now, not if she wanted to maintain her cover. She forced her attention to Noelia instead. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” said Noelia. Her gaze combed over Marisol’s body to catalog every injury. “I’m just glad no one was really hurt.”
Marisol turned her back to Noelia so she could return her daggers to their holsters with some dignity. Then, she straightened. “I’m sure our valuables are gone, though.”
She glanced down at herself as the adrenaline began to wear off and the aches of the fight made themselves known.
Her head hurt from where her hairpiece had been ripped off, and she was sure her curls were now a mess.
Her sleeves were torn, the gold buttons on her cuffs removed.
There were holes in her gown, stained dark by the blood from her shallow but weeping wounds.
Noelia, on the other hand, looked as fresh as she had when she’d left House Muerte. The benefits of doing most of her fighting with distant magic.
She frowned into the carriage and then sighed. “I think they took my bag. Yours, too.”
“That’s all right,” Marisol said, pressing her fingers to one of her cuts and wincing. “I didn’t bring much, considering I thought we would only be having breakfast until—”
Her eyes burned. Her pendant. Her dolphin pendant had been in that bag. Her last tie to Yoselin, to the Seawards, was gone.
Stolen.
“Marisol!”
The footman had returned, and in his wake were Teo and Bas. In the distance, Marisol could see another carriage, the royal carriage, with the door hanging wide open as though Teo had kicked it to get to her. His curls bounced as he ran, and his eyes were wide when he finally reached her.
“You look a mess,” he said, gripping her shoulders. “What happened?”
“My heart flutters,” Marisol replied without thought, her mind on her pendant and the faceless rebel who would sell it without knowing what it meant to her. “Tell me more about how messy I look.”
Behind them, Bas was examining the terrain, from the melted swords scattered across the grass to the blockade in the center of the road.
Noelia and the footman were having a whispered conversation over by the horse, and Teo was still holding her, his fingers tracing her skin as though trying to make sure that she was real.
Her body hurt in multiple places, but his touch was warm. Gentle. She leaned into it with a sigh.
“You’re bleeding.”
His voice was rough with concern, and she was too tired to figure out what game he was playing now.
She was more useful to him alive, so she could at least trust that he cared about her well-being, but he was laying it on a little thick.
Noelia had already seen them together. Bas knew the truth.
Was Teo afraid the footman would gossip if he didn’t seem wildly in love?
Marisol placed her hand over his. “We were robbed by rebels. We fought back.”
“I can see your chemise.”
“You’ll see much more than that once we’re married.”
Teo’s cheeks reddened. He peered up at the sky. “We should get you back to Wildridge. Can you walk?”
Marisol opened her mouth to point out to the panicked prince that she had been standing without his support, but the words balled in her throat when a blanket of warm fabric fell over her shoulders and against her back.
The scent of citrus and familiar musk enveloped her, terrifyingly comforting.
Bas had approached without her noticing, and now he stood in nothing but his olive doublet and beige shirt while his forest-green jerkin covered her.
Though jerkins were meant to be close-fitting jackets, he was taller and wider than her. She swam in it, her chemise covered and her heart pounding. “What are you doing?”
“We should take a look at your wounds as soon as possible,” was all he said to her. “Lady Galvan, will you be all right getting back to House Muerte by yourself?”
If he could feel Marisol’s eyes burning into his back, he didn’t bother to turn around.
Every inhale made her agitated. It felt as if he were on top of her, surrounding her, and she hated how good that felt.
Her hands came up to fasten the jerkin buckle by buckle while she played at indifference, but she was awash with restless energy.
Memories of when Bas had been her safe place threatened to choke her.
They took it , she wanted to tell him, because he was the only one who would understand.
My last dolphin pendant is gone, and it feels like they took a piece of me, too.
Careful.
She couldn’t trust him, and she wouldn’t let him get to her. Not again.
Never again.
“Well.” Teo touched her cheek, and that was part of the act, of course. He kept watching her as if he expected her to collapse at any moment and he wanted to be there to support her if she did. “Are you ready to go?”
Marisol nodded, leaning against him when he wrapped an arm around her to lead her to the carriage. Her voice was soft enough for only him to hear. “I found the courtyard garden in House Muerte, but there were too many witches in there to get the plant.”
“House Vida is hosting the first event,” Teo murmured against her temple. “It will be a while before we can get into House Muerte. Should I ask for a tour?”
“They won’t need the orange blossoms until the closing ceremony, but if they notice one is gone, then the other Houses might increase their security. Let’s gather information about House Vida. The closer the two thefts can happen, the better.”
Teo nodded just in time for them to reach the carriage. Marisol put a small distance between them, raising her voice to continue the show. “Thank you for coming.”
“You had the situation well in hand.”
“It doesn’t matter that I didn’t need you here,” said Marisol. “It matters that you wanted to be.”
Teo’s smile was brighter than the sun beating down on him, a perfect complement to her fond words and soft looks. It was almost enough to make her forget the shadow of a boy lurking behind them, whose jacket was her only armor against the blow her torn dress would be to her reputation.
Almost, but not quite.
As soon as they were all safely in the carriage, Marisol burrowed deeper into the jerkin to avoid further conversation. It had been such a long day.