Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Quin’s brows rise, his voice soft with mockery. “I most certainly will not face punishment.”
“You’re probably right.” I drag my fingers off his, letting them linger just enough to feel his subtle tension. “How about taking the blame if anyone asks?”
Quin scoffs.
Something slinks past us in the shadows and I almost shriek, barely refraining from jumping onto Quin. A sudden thought has me thrumming with colder shivers. “A water wyvern?”
“No,” Quin says calmly. He leans into the bushes, pulling up a meowing furry beast. “Generalus. The prince’s cat.”
“Prince Nicostratus?”
“Alexios. The king’s son.”
I reach out and pat the soft head. A curiosity pops to mind, and I can’t help myself. “Do you ever bring your son here? Does little Quin love to play with Generalus too?”
“Generalus is my son’s favourite thing about coming here. But he doesn’t come often; it’s safer for him to stay with his mother.”
“Are you in residence long? You must miss him,” I say softly.
Quin’s hand stills mid-pat, his gaze flickering somewhere far away. “He’s safer with his mother.”
The wistfulness in his voice tugs at me, unspoken emotions layered beneath the words. I swallow against the sudden tightness in my throat.
“You keep him safe,” I offer, unsure what else to say.
He doesn’t reply, but for a moment, his guarded expression slips, and I glimpse the weight he carries—along with the pain.
I drag Quin to the fountain, make him sit, and break a pearl heart leaf. Quin barely twitches when I drop to my knees and shimmy his boot down.
“What are you doing?” he demands.
“In case you also get punished.” I chew the juice out of the citrusy leaf and call its essence to my fingertips. I stroke a finger down the sole of his foot and settle it at the acupoint leading to his blocked nerves. “This will protect your leg from any serious harm, and help lessen acute pain.”
“You clearly desire me to take the blame.”
I slip his boot back on. “Maybe we’ll be lucky and get away with it.”
“Wishful thinking.”
“I don’t see any redcloaks around.”
“I have a feeling retribution will come when you least expect it.” He tucks a finger under my chin and lifts it. “Isn’t it also a crime for a green-sashed mage to treat someone of my status?”
I stiffen. He’s right . . . only, we’ve done this before . . . it feels like second nature . . .
He pinches my chin, his voice softening. “You won’t get in trouble for this.”
I blow out a breath. “You almost had me.”
“Almost?”
“We’ve been joking around, taking things lightly, but—” I meet his eye “—I remember how hard you tried to stop me coming here. You don’t mean me harm.”
His fingers slide off my chin and he looks away.
The air feels tight as I breathe it in. I clear my throat and push to my feet. “You’re close to Nicostratus. Have you seen him today? What’s he doing?”
Quin plants his cane down heavily and rises. “Probably dreaming of you.”
“Really?”
He frowns at my smugly grinning face. “He’s stuck in cavalry training from dawn to dusk, so don’t get your hopes up.”
“Hope is the last to go.” I glance towards the house, half warmly lit. “Dusk came and went ages ago—”
“No.”
“I haven’t finished yet.”
“I can read your thoughts.”
“Is it such an imposition for you to get him for me?”
“Yes.”
“Because he’s a prince, and you’re only an underling official?”
“This is where we part ways. Good night.”
“Wait, I can’t row back alone. Could you ask Nicostratus—”
“Head to the canal. I’ll send an aklo with you.”
I sigh. “You think I’ll cause problems.”
Quin stretches his arm out for me to start down the path. “I know you will.”
The morning has not gone well.
I’m on my knees in the east pavilion now, surrounded by gasping aklas as a stern-looking redcloak delivers a message from the king.
I shouldn’t have gloated.
“. . . theft from the king’s garden. You’re to report to his majesty’s liaison for discipline.”
I glance back at the safety of the aklas, only for them to watch me pulled away.
The trudge to the house is grim as I contemplate the prospect of punishment. Knowing what I know about the royal city, I probably won’t be allowed to heal myself either.
Pink-Bow’s brother died from a caning.
Would this be so harsh? For such a small transgression?
I spy Quin a stretch away from a gold-sashed aklo and whisper to him as I pass. “Will the king kill me for this?”
I catch a shadow of a frown.
The gold-sashed aklo barks at me. “Kneel.” I drop to the path, wincing at the smack. “Do you confess?”
I gulp. Trying to deny it might get me in worse trouble.
I nod.
“A second person was seen there. Who were they?”
I feel Quin’s gaze on me. Momentarily, I wish I could name him, maybe avoid too harsh a punishment by sharing it, but . . . This is the king’s quarters. Such behaviour from a person of Quin’s status may not be tolerated, and the infusion I gave him can’t defend against that. Nor would it prevent his demise if . . . I swallow a sick rush up my throat and shake my head.