Page 14 of The Queen's Shadow

He grinned. It was the first real smile she’d ever seen from him. “I fully believe you know more about me than you’re willing to admit.”

Now it was her turn to smile. “It is my business to know these things, after all.”

“And what is it that you know about me, Cass?”

She paused for a moment, studying him in the fading twilight. Tendrils of blue and amber filtered through the trees, casting shadows across his face. She remembered the way he had looked that night in Medira, dressed in black then too, an elegant fox mask over his eyes and nose. But here she could see his whole face, his eyes gleaming in the orange rays of the sun, the sharpness of his cheekbones, the line of dark stubble along his jaw. She could see the tiredness in his face, the flash of challenge and something else she couldn’t bring herself to name when his gaze met hers.

“I know you’re unhappy with your king.”

Arphaxad’s jaw tightened. “And what makes you say that?

“The Mediran king isn’t exactly known for his...tact.” She had to choose her words carefully. This thing that lay between them was too tenuous, too fragile. It could break apart at any moment. Arphaxad crossed his arms, waiting.

“You do a lot of cleaning up after him. I’ve seen several letters that have been...edited.”

He snorted. “Of course you have.”

She grinned, then leaned forward, surprised at the sudden earnestness in her voice. “I’ve also seen how you help people, Arphaxad. How you influence the king’s directives toward the good of the people of Medira. From what I’ve seen, a lot of Medira’s resources would end up in the palace rather than with the people who needed it if it weren’t for you.”

He shook his head. “And how do you know I’m not using my influence to benefit Medira? To benefit myself? Happy people don’t tend to turn against their ruler.” He paused. “Even if he is a bad one.”

Now it was Cassandra’s turn to snort. “If that’s what you want me to think.”

A muscle worked in his jaw. “No,” he said, his voice filled with sudden intensity, “that’s not what I want you to think.”

“Good,” she said.

He shook his head. “Working for someone you don’t respect is...”

“It’s admirable,” she said firmly. “You have loyalty to more than just the king. You care about Medira, about its people, its future. That’s more than I can say for most courtiers—most people—in both our kingdoms.”

His mouth opened and closed. “Thank you,” he said finally, and she could hear the sincerity in his voice, see it in his eyes.

Cassandra was the one to break his gaze. She turned and raised her bow again, sending another arrow toward the stump. This one missed entirely.

“Why didn’t you shoot me that day in the palace?” His voice was low and earnest from beside her, devoid of the drawling sarcasm she was used to.

“It wouldn’t have been any fun,” she said as lightly as she could, reaching for another arrow. She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t let him see the truth on her face.

“Cass,” he said. He laid a hand on her bow.

“It wouldn’t have been,” she insisted. “Plus, you saw me before I could get the shot off.”

His hand was still on her bow. “We both know that’s not true.”

“Then why did you deposit me outside the palace after we’d both been taken out by the briar root?” She turned to face him now, her eyes blazing into his. This close, she could see the flecks of gold mixed in with the deep brown of his irises. He had a scar at his temple she’d never noticed before, the skin lighter than the rest. “You could have easily trussed me up and taken me to your king.”

His eyes danced. “That wouldn’t have been any fun.”

“Ha,” she said. “You have no answer either.”

“I suppose not,” he said softly. He took another step toward her. He was close now, so close that she could feel his breath on her face, see the darkness of his pupils, even in the fading light. “You never told your queen how I feel about my king,” he said.

Her heart pounded maddeningly in her throat, but she didn’t break his gaze, daring him to move closer, daring him to cross the wall that had been up between them for so long, too long. A boundary that out here, so far from the bounds of their kingdoms, suddenly seemed to be disintegrating.

“I did not.” She could smell him now—a heady, earthy scent—and for a moment, she let herself wonder how it would feel to have his arms around her, to run her hands through his hair, to feel his warmth against her skin, his mouth on hers.

“Saving to use against me later?” he said softly. He tipped her chin up, his thumb skimming along her jaw.

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