The Traitor's Kiss

by Erin Beaty

  She saw Ash’s fists clench at the guard’s taunt, but rather than swing at him, to Sage’s relief he reached down to snatch up the hair cover she’d dropped. Her outer dress shifted with her steps, and she grabbed at the bodice to keep it from opening farther as she stumbled to the door and leaned against it. Panic seized her throat as the soldier grabbed Ash’s arm and leaned to his ear.

  “You tell your captain if any of you boys is caught like this again, he’ll hear about it from Captain Geddes.” The man shoved Ash at her. “Now run, boy.”

  Ash’s hand was on her back, propelling her out, as the sound of laughter echoed out the door. She tripped on a clump of dirt and barely managed to stay upright. “In here,” Ash whispered, guiding her to the tiny chapel at the base of the tower he’d sat against earlier.

  Sage collapsed on the bench inside as Ash closed the door and pressed an eye to a crack in the boards. She hardly dared to breathe as he watched the courtyard for several seconds. At last he leaned back. “I think we’re good. No one’s out there.”

  With shaking hands, Sage hiked her stockings back over her knees, then stood and smoothed her skirt. Ash was barely a foot away, retucking his shirt. Her heart pounded so loudly she felt he must be able to hear it. “We have to tell Captain Quinn right away,” she said in a hushed and hurried voice.

  “I’ll go as soon as…” Ash fumbled with his belt in the light coming through the dirty stained-glass window. When he’d finally found the catch he was looking for, he straightened and smoothed his rumpled hair. Sage suddenly found herself wanting to feel it in her own fingers. Cheeks flaming, she ducked her head to focus on straightening and retying her bodice.

  Ash tugged her left sleeve back over her shoulder, startling her enough that she looked up into his shadowed face. “I have to go,” he said softly. “But you should take a few minutes to fix your hair; it’s a real mess. And your face is all flushed.”

  “Maybe I’m just not practiced in these sorts of things.” She jerked away from the hand that lingered on her shoulder. In the last two days, she’d allowed herself to wonder what it would be like to be kissed—and by him—but had it all been for show back there? Had she been too eager to play the part in what was only an act for him? Her eyes burned with what she was afraid would become tears.

  For a long moment, Ash said nothing. Then he whispered, “Neither am I.”

  He took a half step forward. With the bench pressing her knees from behind, Sage couldn’t back away without falling. His vest brushed against her now-motionless hands, and she stared at them in confusion. What were they supposed to be doing? Ash was so close she could feel him breathing. She wanted to see his face but couldn’t force her eyes higher than his collarbone. Instead she concentrated on the faint pulse visible at the base of his throat. His neck muscles flexed as he swallowed.

  His next words were forced out like a confession. “If I was any good at it, it was only because I’ve imagined it so often.”

  Sage suddenly had to remind herself to breathe.

  With the determination of having made a difficult decision, Ash reached up and tilted her chin higher. In the same movement, he slipped his left arm around her waist, drawing her to him. Their eyes met for a split second; she barely had time to realize what was happening as his face bent down to her own.

  At first Sage trembled so badly she couldn’t react. His lips pressed against hers, and she tried to yield, tried to respond in a way that would tell him what she wanted, but she didn’t know how. Ash’s confidence wavered against her lukewarm response, and he drew back. Sage nearly panicked. It couldn’t end like that. She leaned into him, sliding her hands up to grasp the open collar of his shirt. Don’t stop.

  Their lips met again, and this time he was startled, but only for a moment. Then he pulled her closer, raising her onto her tiptoes. She closed her eyes as his fingers drifted up her jawline to bury themselves in her hair.

  A sound—more a squeak than a sigh—escaped her, and his lips tightened against hers in a half smile. What was awkward only seconds ago became natural, and she didn’t even have to think about surrendering to the gentle pressure of his mouth. Her second sigh was softer and on purpose, and he echoed it. They both smiled a little before coming back for more.

  Her third sigh was as unplanned as the first, but his reaction was everything she could’ve hoped for. Ash’s kisses became deeper, more insistent. His strong arms tightened around her as he lifted her completely off her feet. Sage’s fingers slackened their grip on his shirt, and every muscle in her body relaxed against him. Without his support at the small of her back, she would’ve slid into a puddle at his feet.

  Nothing in her imagination had ever come close to this.

  Ash pulled back, and her eyes fluttered open. He was still too close to see clearly, his breath mingling with hers. “I … I have to go.”

  Sage nodded, brushing her nose along his. She felt her body sliding down his as he lowered her back to her feet. From the unchanged light in the cramped room, barely two minutes had passed, though she could’ve sworn it had been an hour.

  He bent down and pressed his forehead to hers, and for another minute they remained melted against each other. She rested her hands on his chest, matching her shaky breaths to his. “You need to go,” she managed to say.

  He nodded and pulled his hand around to her jawline to trace his thumb over her bottom lip before leaning lower again. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered against her mouth, finishing with the softest of kisses.

  He gradually loosened his embrace, dragging his fingers across her cheek and waist like he couldn’t bear to let go, stepped back, and tugged his vest straight. Then he was gone.

  52

  THE OFFICERS WERE only just stirring, but within five minutes they were dressed and assembled in the meeting room. A patrol was already scheduled for that morning; now they’d leave as soon as possible without inviting D’Amiran’s guards along, which would likely offend their host. The four men would now include Robert and ride hard for the north gap in the ring of Kimisar, which they prayed was still open. They’d return with one of the picket scouts there and leave the prince to escape on foot with the other. If luck was with them, by the time anyone realized he was missing, he’d be far away.

  There was no time to waste. Supplies had to be gathered and horses readied. Quinn dismissed them, and Rob and Gramwell dashed out of the room, but Casseck remained. When the door was shut, he seated himself across from Quinn and leaned on the table. “Why didn’t Mouse bring Starling into the circle after overhearing this? She knows almost everything.”

  Quinn focused on the map. “It was the right decision to wait. Once she’s in, it can’t be undone.”

  “Alex.” Casseck stared hard at him. “What are you leaving out?”

  Quinn closed his eyes and massaged his temples with the fingers and thumb of his right hand. “He kissed her.”

  “I see.” When Quinn didn’t respond for several seconds, Casseck cleared his throat to cover what sounded suspiciously like laughter. “Well, it’s about time.”

  Quinn looked up sharply. “You think this is funny?”

  “Not at all. It’s a tough thing to be jealous.”

  “You think I’m jealous?” Quinn slammed his hand down on the table.

  Casseck deftly caught the ink pot as it bounced over the edge and set it back on the table. “It’s not you she’s falling in love with,” he said quietly. “She needs to be protected, yes, but that’s not the real reason you haven’t brought her into the circle.”

  Quinn exhaled slowly, choosing not to respond to that point. “It’s too early. We still have to get Rob out, and if we fail, the last thing we want is her involved. If we succeed, everything changes, and Mouse needs to teach her something while she still trusts him. But very soon. I promise.”

  “As soon as possible after that. Tomorrow.”

  Quinn closed his eyes and nodded. “Tomorrow.”

  53


  D’AMIRAN KNEW OVERCONFIDENCE could be deadly, but right now, things were going well. Better than well: he had Robert.

  He smiled as another lord signed his name to the list of committed allies. They’d all readily pledged their resources to his cause once he had all of the women in his possession, though he hadn’t informed any of them of his pact with Kimisara. It was a minor detail, and the fewer aware, the better, especially since most hated the Kimisar after years of fending off raiding parties.

  Lord Fashell approached and bowed low. “Your Grace,” he said. “I’ve brought the latest provisions, some news, and a humble request.” D’Amiran nodded, and the man continued, “Everything you wanted is being carried into your storerooms. My estate has been accommodating travelers bound for Tegann, and we’re proud to provide these services to your cause.”

  “I’ve been pleased to count on them,” the duke said graciously. “Your loyalty is noted and appreciated.”

  Dashell bowed again in thanks. “As for news, Your Grace, there will be a delay in some arrivals. An illness has been affecting many travelers in the area, and several cannot continue their journey at present.”

  “An illness?” Concern was etched along D’Amiran’s brow. “How long before they can be expected to recover?”

  “Only a day or two, Your Grace,” Fashell rushed to assure him. “You might not have even noticed with all the activity and arrivals, but I felt you’d like to be informed.”

  Somewhat relieved, D’Amiran smiled. “Yes, once more I appreciate your attention to my needs. If that’s your only news, I would hear your request.”

  “A minor item, Your Grace, concerning one of the ladies who arrived here two days ago.” Fashell cleared his throat. “My son Bartholomew was quite captivated by Lady Broadmoor, and it was my impression she wasn’t promised to anyone yet.”

  The duke frowned thoughtfully. “Broadmoor…” He recalled her—a rather plain little thing, freckled and thin with eyes that avoided his but observed everything else. “Yes, of course. I’m not sure what property she brings. Probably not much, as I’d never heard of her before.”

  “Property is not a concern for us, Your Grace, thanks to your generosity. We shan’t object if you find it advantageous to give her to another, but if you had no use for her, I felt there was no harm in asking.”

  “Absolutely no harm, Lord Fashell.” D’Amiran folded his hands. “I will consider your request, factoring in the service you’ve done me.” He would leave it at that; he couldn’t promise her to anyone just yet. If she’d caught the attention of Bartholomew Fashell, he needed to see for himself why.

  Fashell bowed one last time. “That’s all I hoped for, Your Grace.”

  Captain Geddes squeezed past Fashell at the door. “Your Grace,” he said with a breathless bow. “The escort’s patrol hasn’t returned, and we haven’t been able to find”—he glanced around at the others present and scratched his half ear—“them,” he finished, trying to convey meaning with his eyes. “Though I wouldn’t consider them late just yet.”

  “How many departed?” asked D’Amiran.

  “Four, sir. None appeared to be officers, but they left early without telling anyone.”

  “Are all three officers accounted for?”

  “We’ve seen only three today,” said the captain. “It’s been confusing, Your Grace. But I’m sure there are four: Quinn, Casseck, Gramwell, and Bathgate. The last hasn’t been seen since yesterday.”

  The duke’s eyes narrowed. “Then I suggest you find him.”

  54

  SAGE FAILED MISERABLY to keep her focus that day. While she blamed her overheated complexion on the warm spring sunshine, in her mind she relived the events of the morning several dozen times, Ash’s words echoing in her head. No one had ever called her beautiful, but there was no doubt in her mind that he meant it.

  Once, she even allowed herself to picture the episode in the armory without deception or fear of discovery. Or, she thought wryly, without a box of arrows poking her in the rear. That only made her envision softer alternatives and that inflamed her cheeks even more, until she remembered the danger they all faced. Guilt nagged her, too—what kind of a distraction must she be to Ash?

  At dinner she chose a seat where she could watch the officers at their corner table. Robert must be one of them. Ash didn’t want her talking to the officers, especially here at Tegann, implying she would’ve realized who he was. Casseck was so straightforward, he almost seemed incapable of lying, but Gramwell …

  The lieutenant’s gaze wandered to Clare every few minutes. He’d ignored a lot of protocol by courting Clare, but no one objected. Before, Sage assumed he was so besotted, he couldn’t help himself, but it made even more sense that no one had stopped him if he was the prince. Yes, it was entirely possible he was actually the prince in disguise.

  As if the two had read her mind, Clare excused herself and left through the main doors, toward the gardens. Her admirer quietly followed less than a minute later. He would be gone after tonight, and he probably wanted to say good-bye. She smiled. If any of these women deserved the attention of royalty, it was her friend.

  Sage bumped into Charlie on the way back to her room. He held up a bundle of clothing. “My lady, I’m to deliver this to you,” he said.

  It must be her clean breeches and shirt. She was glad to have them back. Sage considered asking Charlie about Robert, but that wouldn’t be fair to the boy, and she’d promised Ash to stop asking questions he would answer later. So she simply said, “Thank you. Good night, Little Soldier.”

  He bobbed his head and hurried off. Rather than put the bundle in her trunk, Sage pulled it apart, hoping to find a message from Ash. A lump in one of her socks turned out to be a stub of a candle wrapped in a scrap of parchment.

  If you trust me with your life, light this candle. When it burns out, meet me in the lower passage in the west barracks.—A

  With a trembling hand, Sage lit the wick and nestled it in a holder. It would take less than two hours to burn out, so she changed into her clean breeches and curled up on the bed to wait. She’d toss the note in the fire before she left, but until then she held the scrap in her hand, reading the words over and over. If you trust me with your life …

  She did. And tonight she would prove it.

  * * *

  Sage slipped around the corner and found him, leaning against the wall opposite the low-burning torch, arms crossed, silent as a shadow. His gaze followed her until she stopped in front of him. “I almost hoped you wouldn’t come,” he said.

  He didn’t want her involved because it was dangerous, but Quinn needed her, and so she had an unlikely ally in the captain. She wasn’t doing this for Quinn, though. Her eyes traced the contours of the face she’d come to know so well in the last weeks—from the almost-straight black brows over eyes so dark and deep she could fall into them to the stubble she now knew by feel. “I came because I trust you,” she whispered.

  He pressed his lips together as he took her right hand in both of his and inhaled deeply. “Everything changes tomorrow. If you leave now, I will think no less and ask no more of you, and I’ll still do everything I can to protect you from what’s coming.” He turned her hand over and rubbed a thumb along her palm, sending lightning up her arm. “But if you stay, you commit yourself. You become a player we depend on and confide in. There is no middle path or going back. You must decide tonight.”

  “You’re a fool if you think I’m leaving,” she said firmly.

  He winced. “People will die, Sage. At our hands and theirs. The surest way you can be safe is by not getting involved. That is truth.”

  She curled her fingers around his. “I know. I’m not afraid.” But she trembled.

  “Will you promise to follow orders, without question or hesitation?” He eyed her with silent meaning.

  For him? “Yes,” she whispered. “I promise.”

  He sagged slightly and nodded. “Then there’s something I must do first.�
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  Ash raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, then, clasping her fingers tightly, he led her down the dim corridor to the last door. Without knocking, he pushed it open and ushered her into a windowless barracks room used for storage. Candles set in the stone wall illuminated a jumble of wooden chairs, tables, and cots piled on one side, and a stack of straw mattresses lay in the corner. Several pallets had been pulled to the middle of the open space and stacked two high with a large blanket over them. The implication stunned her—it was so unexpected, so unlike what she believed about him—her mind only registered denial.

  She heard Ash bolt the door and remove his leather jacket, felt his hands on her shoulders as he turned her around to face him. He stroked her cheek with one hand while the other reached for his belt. “My sweet, innocent Sage,” he whispered, and still her thoughts could gain no traction.

  There was the snap of a release from his belt, and though she continued to meet his eyes, she saw a sheathed dagger in the hand he raised between them.

  “Tonight I must teach you how to kill a man.”

  55

  SAGE REACHED FOR the knife, and he rotated the handle to make her grip it with her thumb at the end of the hilt. “Hold it like this.”

  She’d wielded a knife before; Father had taught her years ago, but this was different. The way she now held it, with the blade extending from the small side of her hand, was useless for anything but stabbing and slashing. She swallowed. “I’m ready.”

  “Are you?”

  Sage knew his deepest fear was that he was a monster, that he enjoyed killing. Now he had to expose her to the thing he dreaded most. She nodded with the confidence he needed to see, and his expression became fierce, determined.

  Before starting, he showed her the places a man in armor was vulnerable, pressed her hands where the arteries lay closest to the surface, and demonstrated the blade angles that would exploit both. After that, he stepped around to guide her into a defensive position, laying his arms over hers to place them and forcing her into a crouch with his own body. She shivered with sudden cold as he stepped away to stand in front of her again.