When she turned in his direction, toward the stable, he fixed his gaze back on Niton. She would read more in his expression than he wanted her to know. He focused on his brush and a stubborn patch of mud. A couple of minutes later, Kyrin appeared again, leading her dappled buckskin, Maera, out of the paddock to tie at the rail near Jace. She smiled brightly as she caught his eyes.
Why did his heart have to do that flip, making his breath hitch in his lungs? It happened too often lately. He cleared his throat to settle it and managed to smile back normally, or so he hoped. She turned to brush her horse, and he let his breath seep out without a sound. What a ridiculous fool he was being.
They were both silent for several minutes, but Jace’s thoughts continued to revolve around Kyrin as they had been almost nonstop since the meeting with Trask last night. If only they had never found out about Daican’s correspondences with Sir Rothas. He tried to bite his tongue, but the words tumbled out anyway. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Kyrin straightened and met his eyes. She looked so calm in spite of the impending danger. For once, he couldn’t help but wish she wasn’t so brave.
“I want to help Samara. I don’t think we have much of a choice.”
“You don’t have to do it.” He should be thinking of the greater good like everyone else, but the last time an Altair had attempted a dangerous mission, he had been caught and executed. Jace couldn’t abide the thought of losing Kyrin the same way. Yet, as much as he wanted to stop her, he couldn’t. She would have to decide for herself.
“I know,” she responded quietly.
And he knew her mind was made up. He couldn’t combat her courage and compassion. All he could do was go along to protect her or die trying. Resigning himself, he bent to finish grooming Niton.
An hour later, neither one of them had said much. Kyrin certainly knew of his feelings about the mission. Finished with the horses and full of dust and horsehair, they returned the animals to their paddocks and walked back to the cabins.
“I better get cleaned up and start packing.” Kyrin’s voice was light, as if she were trying to dispel the heavy mood and cheer him up.
Jace only nodded and they parted ways, but then he stopped. If she wasn’t going to change her mind, then he had something to do before they left in the morning. “Kyrin, before you go in, I want to show you something.”
She turned to him curiously, and he glanced down at his dirtied hands, his tongue suddenly becoming clumsy. “I never had the chance to give you your birthday present.”
Her face lit up, and he led her toward the supply shed.
“I was going to get it when . . .” Jace cleared his throat. “I met Hagen.”
At the shed, he told her to wait outside and stepped in to retrieve a long, burlap-wrapped item from the back corner. His heart beat a little faster as he brought it out to her. Would she like it? It wasn’t a typical gift for a girl. Some would probably think it a very odd gift, but Kyrin was different.
Her expression once again lifted in curiosity. She took it from him, glancing once at his face while she untied the twine that secured the cloth. Jace held his breath, his uncertainty rearing up again. Maybe he should have gone to Trask or Lenae for ideas for something else, something more befitting a young woman . . .
The wrapping fell away, and Kyrin’s eyes grew huge at the oak staff it revealed—stained and polished, with flowers carved into the top and vines winding down toward the middle.
“Oh, Jace!” She ran her fingers along the intricate carvings.
Jace shifted, unable to shake his awkwardness. “I know it’s not like your other gifts, but I hoped you would like it.”
“It’s beautiful. Where did you get it?”
He cleared his throat. The last thing he wanted was to make this about him. If only he didn’t have to answer. “I made it.”
Her wondrous eyes rose to his. “You made it? When did you learn how to do that?”
“Aldor taught me.” He shrugged. “We used to work on pieces together. It’s been a while since I practiced.”
She shook her head. “It’s incredible.”
“You probably can’t take it with you,” Jace said, shifting the attention away from himself, “but I wanted you to have it before we left.” A stirring of satisfaction did settle inside him at the smile that grew on her lips.
“Thank you.” She stepped forward to give him a hug.
Jace returned her embrace, and his pulse quickened again. She fit so perfectly and comfortably in his arms… as if she were meant to be there. With a jolt of alarm, he reined those thoughts back and pulled away before the embrace could linger too long and cause him to do something altogether crazy… like kiss her.
His heartbeat doubled in panic. He needed an escape. “I should go pack.” Heaven help him, he hoped his voice wasn’t as hoarse as it sounded to him.
Kyrin nodded, a little grin peeking out. “Me too. Thank you so much for this. It’s one of my favorite gifts I’ve ever received.”
Jace ducked his head. “I’m glad you like it.”
With a glowing smile, she turned away. When she had disappeared, Jace sagged back against the shed, hanging his head. What was he doing? What was happening to him? He wasn’t supposed to feel like this. After what had happened with Hagen, he should have pushed these feelings aside for good. Instead, they just kept growing harder to resist. What was he to do with them? He knew nothing of such things. All he knew for sure was that, if he wasn’t careful, it could ruin everything between him and Kyrin, and he didn’t want to risk that any more than he wanted to risk her life.
The first pale glow of dawn was just lighting the horizon when Jace followed the others up to Marlton Hall the next morning. Most of the countryside was still asleep, and they hoped to be off before too many people who might report to Captain Goler noticed their departure. Trask dismounted first and knocked on the back door. Sir John answered it, spilling light into the yard, and invited everyone inside. Anne and Lady Catherine greeted them as they entered the candlelit main room.
“I have the uniforms for each of you.” Sir John closed the door behind them and gestured to the dining table, where seven bundles of dark fabric lay.
While Anne took Kyrin upstairs to change, the men stepped to the table and donned their uniforms—a deep blue and black tabard with a white dove in the center of the chest. Jace pulled his on over his shirt and buckled on his belt. Looking over the others, he found they made a diverse group but, in matching uniforms, no one would ever guess their true identities or intentions. They were simply a security escort for a noblewoman.
He glanced at Trask and Sir John, who stood watching. They may have agreed to this, but neither one looked comfortable with it. If he thought it would make them feel any better, he would have told them that anyone intending harm to either Kyrin or Anne would have to kill him first. The same went for every man in the group. Jace tested his sword in its sheath, making sure it didn’t stick if he did have to use it. He had just put a razor edge on it and his dagger the night before, though he prayed it would be unnecessary.
A few minutes later, Anne returned with Kyrin, who wore a nondescript gray traveling dress and white cap to hide her still-too-short hair. She looked the part of a servant, although it didn’t make her any less attractive. Jace quickly forced this thought away. He would not let his feelings overshadow his reason and common sense as they nearly had yesterday. Especially not when he needed all his wits about him to make sure she stayed safe.
“We’re ready,” Anne announced. “We’d best get started. I would hate to have this be the one morning Goler decides to visit. That’s just the sort of thing he would do whether he realized it or not.”
Trask and John picked up her belongings, and they all gathered out by the horses again. Here, Anne said goodbye to her parents before coming to Trask.
His hands on her shoulders, he looked down into her eyes, his tone uncharacteristically somber. “Be careful.”
She gave him an understanding smile. “I will.”
“If you get any sense at all that Rothas is suspicious, get out. You have to promise me.”
“I promise.”
Jace could hear Trask’s long exhale. It must be killing him to have to remain here. Jace didn’t know how he did it. He watched Trask place a soft kiss on Anne’s forehead. Anne, in response, rose up on her toes and gave him a quick kiss on the lips instead. Trask’s grin finally emerged, and Jace looked down at Niton’s reins to resist the tugging urge to glance at Kyrin. Fighting these feelings was going to drive him mad yet. Why couldn’t he just feel the same as he had last year when she’d simply been his closest friend? Why the unwelcome complications now?
With their goodbyes said, Trask guided Anne to her horse and helped her mount, while giving a few final instructions. “We decided on Kyrin going by the name Corinne, and Kaden will be Caleb. They’re close enough to their real names to be easy and familiar, but won’t raise suspicion.”
Anne nodded.
The rest of the group mounted, and Trask addressed the men. “Be cautious and keep a low profile. Thanks to Falcor, the emperor knows a great deal about us, but we can only pray Rothas doesn’t have the same details. Like I said, if there is any hint that he’s on to you, I want you all to leave.” His gaze shifted back to Anne. “Don’t stay any longer than you must.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll find an excuse to leave.” She gave him a playful smile. “Perhaps his food won’t agree with me.”
Trask’s lips lifted in return, but it was short-lived. “Right then, you should go.”
Anne took up her reins and, with a final goodbye to him and her parents, she turned her horse to take the lead with Rayad. Kyrin and the rest of the men fell in behind them. When they reached the road, they turned north, and a twinge passed through Jace’s stomach. Would the next few days go as smoothly as they hoped?
Around noon, the entire group paused for a rest and lunch after an uneventful morning. So far, they had not passed any other travelers on the road. An hour ago, they had left the forest behind, coming to a landscape of gentle rolling hills, which grew more pronounced the farther they headed north. It appeared to be good farmland, though Jace preferred more trees. There were some pockets of them, but nothing like the seemingly endless wilderness around camp.
Gathering at the side of the road, they each ate from their saddlebags.
“What do you know of this Sir Rothas?” Rayad asked Anne.
Everyone looked at her for her response. Jace wanted to know exactly what sort of man they had to deal with and what Kyrin was walking into. The fact that he was a brilliant strategist was not comforting. What if he saw right through their ruse?
“I’ve only met him once at a banquet held in Landale. We barely more than greeted one another, but he didn’t strike me as a friendly sort.” Anne wrinkled her nose. “But I hear he’s got quite an eye for the ladies.”
The hair along Jace’s arms prickled. Not what he wanted to hear. Hopefully Kyrin wouldn’t spend much time near him.
“He actually grew up in Tarvin Hall,” Anne continued, giving Kyrin and Kaden a look, “and was knighted shortly after his promotion. Daican was apparently quiet impressed. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been a driving force behind the emperor’s plans all these years.”
“Is he married?” Holden asked.
Anne nodded. “His wife is Lady Rachel, the daughter of Henry Ilvaran, Earl of Dunrick.”
“I know your mother did, but isn’t it rather rare for the daughter of an earl to marry a knight, even a prominent one?”
“Well, I don’t know the details, and I’ve never met her, but rumor has it that Lady Rachel had a child out of wedlock and the marriage was a rushed arrangement. I hear Sir Rothas was the only suitor still interested, though, from what I know of him, I suspect it had more to do with the prestige and wealth it bought him than saving her reputation.”
“Poor woman,” Kyrin murmured.
“Yes, despite the rumors and circumstances, I do hear she’s very kind. In any case, I’m sure it will be an interesting meeting.”
Interesting and dangerous. Jace sighed.
With the sun setting behind them, Jace and the others approached Ashwood, Sir Rothas’s grand estate. According to Anne, it was part of Lady Rachel’s dowry. Acres of soon-to-be tilled farmland spread out around them, dotted with cottages and barns. The center point of it all was the magnificent stone manor house with ivy weaving up the three stories to the roof.
Following the rutted path that branched off the main road, they passed through a low rock wall, the horses’ hooves clacking when they hit the stone courtyard. Here, they all reined to a halt. Jace’s gaze traveled up the height of the manor house, its many windows blazing in the red-orange sun. In a way, it reminded him of an estate he had belonged to during his childhood. Rothas sounded very similar to one of his old masters. Once again, a chill crawled along his skin, and he shook away the old memories. This mission was unpleasant enough already.
A door closing drew Jace’s attention back to the manor’s entrance, where a middle-aged man with dark features had just exited and descended the steps to meet them. Dressed in a red security uniform with gold trimming, he carried himself with confidence and authority, no doubt a ranking member of Ashwood’s security. His face was strong and serious, and he eyed each of them in turn.
Rayad, as the head of the group and expected to handle Anne’s affairs, nudged his horse forward. “Lady Anne, daughter of Sir John Wyland to see Sir Rothas Cantan.”
If Jace hadn’t known him, he never would have guessed that Rayad had been a simple farmer and horse breeder all his life. But then, he’d always had a commanding air about him when the occasion called for it.
The guard’s attention shifted to Anne. Jace glanced at her. She was already playing her part as well, projecting herself as the opulent daughter of a fellow knight. She had said it would make Rothas less likely to suspect her or them of duplicity. Amazing how something as simple as posture could change her entire appearance. Just the way she perched in her saddle, her chin at a slight angle, exuded superiority.
The guard nodded. “Please, come inside, my lady,” he invited, his deep voice surprisingly soft-spoken.
As they dismounted, he motioned to two young men, who had come from the stables to tend the horses. He then led them all into the manor house. When they stepped inside, Jace’s gaze was drawn to the furnishings, and he compared the manor to Baron Grey’s castle in Landale. The castle had been too dark and stifling for him, but Ashwood clearly had a woman’s touch. Lady Rachel had filled it with warm, rich colors that made it seem homey and welcoming in spite of its intimidating size.
With the tap of footsteps, a distinguished older gentleman met them in the entrance hall.
“Walton, this is Lady Anne of Marlton. Will you please see that she is comfortable?” the guard requested. “I will inform Sir Rothas and her ladyship of her arrival.”
“Of course.” The butler focused on Anne. “Right this way, my lady.”
Off to the right of the hall, he admitted them into a comfortable parlor that overlooked the courtyard.
“Is there anything I can get you, my lady?” Walton asked.
“I think I’ll just sit for now.”
“Of course. Make yourself comfortable.”
He left them to wait, and Anne took a seat on a nearby sofa, while the others stood off to the side. She arranged and smoothed her skirt before trading a wry look with Kyrin, who didn’t quite hide a smile. The act would be amusing if not for the knotting and churning in Jace’s gut. Now that they were here, he just wanted to get things over with as soon as possible. He didn’t feel as confident as he wanted to about being able to keep Kyrin safe here. In a house this size with all the staff and security, there were too many variables.
“So far so good,” Anne whispered.
Only moments later, footsteps echoed in the hall. Jace straightene
d as the door opened. A lordly man and woman stepped inside, and the security guard entered behind them. Anne rose from her seat as the first man greeted her.
“Lady Anne, welcome to Ashwood.”
She nodded to him and his wife. “Sir Rothas, Lady Rachel.”
“We were not expecting company.” Rothas’s voice was smooth as glass and equally cool.
His presence made Jace distinctly uneasy, and he sized the man up. He was tall, fit, and dark. No doubt he could handle himself, being a knight. But that wasn’t what disturbed Jace—it was the look in his iron-like eyes. Jace had known men like him before. He had the look of a predator. Jace barely restrained himself from stepping closer to Kyrin.
“I’m on my way to Mareby to visit Lady Hamilton,” Anne responded. “My father thought some time away from Landale and all that dreadful talk of rebellion would do me good, but I’m afraid my constitution just isn’t built for travel.” Again, she amazed Jace with how well she played her part, even making her voice a bit breathy. “If you would be so kind as to allow me a day or two to refresh myself before I travel on, I would very much appreciate it.”
The man could hardly say no to her persuasive tone. “Of course you may stay, for as long as you wish.”
Rothas’s cool, dark eyes traveled up and down Anne, and Jace gritted his teeth. Trask would be infuriated were he here. Even the security guard gave Sir Rothas an unseen look of disgust.
Working to cool his own emotions, Jace shifted his gaze to Lady Rachel. Though in her mid to late thirties, she had a very youthful beauty—her long hair dark and silky, the perfect complement to a pair of violet blue eyes. Yet, hidden behind them was an underlying hint of sadness. Somehow, Jace just knew she had seen hard times, and his scorn for Sir Rothas grew. How could a man ever have an eye for other women when he already had a lovely wife right at his side? Every sense of decency burned in indignation.
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