Page 25 of The Queen's Shadow

“Yep,” was all Arphaxad said. He tried to catch her gaze, and there was something in it, a question, something she didn’t want to see, didn’t want to know. She jerked her gaze away from him. She couldn’t look at him—not now, not when she was sure her feelings were etched plainly on her face.

“I hear she’s quite a beauty too, you lucky man.” Castez grinned.

Cassandra stood up and walked out of the room.

Footsteps sounded behind her as she stepped out into the harsh midday sun. The sun was well above the horizon now, trudging toward noon. Soldiers lingered in the courtyard, a few sparring in one corner with short swords, their uniforms dark with sweat, but none of them spared her much attention.

“Cassandra,” a voice said behind her.

She stopped moving but didn’t turn around.

“Where are you going?” Arphaxad said tightly.

She drew in a deep breath and let it out again. She didn’t want to do this. Not with him. Not right now. “Home,” she said.

“Now?” His voice was tinged with confusion and frustration.

“There’s nothing more for me to do here,” she said shortly.

“You really think that’s true?” His voice was flat, but the simmering disappointment behind it was tangible.

Cassandra’s fingers clenched, and she swallowed hard against the lump rising in her throat. She wanted so badly to tell him no, to turn around and follow him back into that room, to work side by side like they had in the enclave. But no good would come of it. Not for her, and not for Rendra. She had already overstayed her welcome. “Yes,” she said firmly, the broken pieces of her heart scattering to the wind. “I do.”

Silence stretched out behind her, and she wanted to turn around and shake him and scream at him and let him hold her while she sobbed that it was all so unfair.

“You’ll need this,” he said. She heard him fiddle with something, and she turned to see him pull a dagger from his belt and hold it out to her. “Take it.”

She hesitated a moment, and he sighed. “Don’t be stupid, Cass,” he said. Then, “Careful. There’s briar root in the handle.”

A lump formed in her throat, and she took it slowly, careful not to meet his gaze. The hilt was still warm from his hand. She sheathed it silently in one of the open slots on her belt, next to the dagger Karim had given her.

He stepped back, and his face was blank, devoid even of the infuriating arrogance she was so used to seeing there.

“Thank you for your help,” he said blandly, his eyes focused somewhere in the middle distance.

“Thank you too,” she returned, her voice equally stiff. Her heart was shattering into a million tiny pieces. But it was stupid, stupid, stupid. She would get over it. She had to get over it.

Castez had been informed of Amanakar’s treachery. He and Arphaxad were already putting together a plan of action. Medira would know in due time and would deal with the ambassador. She wasn’t needed here anymore. Her duty was to Rendra.

There was a village at the head of the Malathi pass she could make it to before nightfall, a contact she could take refuge with. She was the queen’s shadow. She could disappear into the forest, where not even Arphaxad Ilin Serra could find her.

A dull ache settled in her chest. Before she could think better of it, she turned away from him, crossed the ragged cobblestones of the courtyard, and walked out the gate.

Chapter 9

Cassandra made it back to Rendra in less than a week, her body crumpling with exhaustion. She wrote a comprehensive report as the queen had requested, and when she was finished, she curled up in bed and slept the rest of the day.

She had succeeded in her mission. She had uncovered Amanakar’s plan. Medira would be warned, and Ineti. Rendra and Medira would find common ground for an alliance. Arphaxad would marry the Inetian princess. Peace would reign.

So why did she feel so empty?

She tried not to remember the way Arphaxad had looked at her in the woods above the enclave. She tried not to remember the feel of his body against hers as he’d shielded her from the cave collapse, and the warmth of his breath as she’d huddled in his arms, feeling safer than she ever had before. Those memories could never mean anything at all.

“I know something’s wrong,” the queen said when she came to Cassandra’s room three days later.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Cassandra said gloomily. “I’m just tired.”

The queen watched her, her lips pressed together. Cassandra avoided her gaze. Elena knew her better than anyone.

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