Page 12 of Winter's Fate

He waved her back, gesturing dismissively toward the street, like she was nothing more than a fly. Laena bristled, not only because of her identity but because a palace guard should not be talking to an Etran citizen this way. He should be kind, at least to someone clearly approaching the gates without an attempt to harm.

But it would have been a lie to say his failure to recognize her didn’t sting. She wouldn’t have expected the people on the street to know who she was; they were busy with their own lives, for starters, and even Kat’s appearance would be a mere asterisk to their days. But a member of the palace guard ought to recognize her face.

She shifted her bag on her shoulder. Her back ached after days of travel, and she was longing for a bath. “I… you don’t know me?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Should I?”

Yes, she thought. But truly, why should he? If he’d joined the guard any time in the past five years, he’d have had no reason to learn her face. She hadn’t returned even once since she’d left the city with Ben. She hadn’t been invited, true, but she might have made an effort.

Laena swallowed, trying to piece together a story without angering the guard—so many were angry at what they saw as her betrayal—and without sounding like she considered herself entitled to an audience. She wasn’t. She’d ceded that right, along with everything else.

Abruptly, she realized that Captain Farrow had broken away from the greetings and was crossing the courtyard to speak to the guard. To ask for assistance or directions, or perhaps to inform him of some crucial Aglyean protocol.

Instead, he leaned one hand on the iron gate—a posture that was distinctlynotcommander-like—and looked directly at her.

If he had seemed tall from a distance at the cliffs, he was absolutely massive as he stood before her. Laena wasn’t a shortwoman, and he still towered over her. She’d memorized etchings of his face, along with so many others—an essential point in her studies so as to avoid embarrassing important dignitaries from other realms—and though they had portrayed him as much younger, his identity was unmistakable. He loomed over the guard yet somehow managed not to seem frightening. Or at least he didn’t appear frightening to Laena.

It was a lie. He ought to be frightening. He ought to be very frightening indeed to a magic user.

“Is there a problem here?” Farrow’s voice was deep, though edged with a ragged timbre that might have been the fatigue of a tiring journey from Vunmore. The guard glanced at Captain Farrow, eyebrows raised, as if he’d never expected a visiting King’s Guard member to address him and wasn’t sure how to interact with an officer from another realm’s military.

“No, sir,” the guard said. “No problem. It’s just that this young woman wants an audience, and I cannot grant it.”

Young woman. Laena nearly snorted. She’d stake her lunch on being older than this man.

Scratch that, actually; she hadn’t eaten since breaking her fast on hearty porridge at the inn this morning. She’d stake her cloak on it, then. It wasn’t overly chilly, after all.

Callum Farrow looked her directly in the eye, and her breath caught in her throat. His portraits showed him with blue eyes, and while that wasn’t altogether inaccurate, it certainly wasn’t sufficient, either. The blue that had seemed so icy from afar was nearly the shade of the sea, not cold but warm, inviting her to stare into them at length to determine their exact shade.

If she were a fool, that was. But as she wasn’t, she averted her gaze back to the guard.

“Do you not recognize this lady, officer?” Captain Farrow asked.

The guard glanced at Laena, then back at the captain. “No,” he said. “No… sir?”

Still clearly uncertain about his place in the chain of command here.

“This is Queen Katrina’s sister. Princess Laena.”

How in all the Vales did he knowthat? She supposed he would have educated himself in the same way she had, to avoid embarrassing situations in other realms. But she would not have expected a foreign soldier, even a high-ranked one, to recognize her with this ratty dress.

His gaze went to her cheek, and he frowned. As if the sight of the cut offended him personally.

“Kat’s still a princess, too,” Laena said, cheeks burning. It was bad enough not to be recognized by her own family’s guard. But to have a representative from another realm speak for her? It was humiliating. “Technically.”

Captain Farrow hitched an eyebrow as if to sayI’m trying to assist you, Princess. He seemed the type to say her title with a hint of disdain, though so far he’d only spoken respectfully. “PrincessKatrina, then,” he said.

And he was trying to help her. She was caught between the desire to thank him and the screaming in her brain that said this man would throw her in prison if he knew her secret. She should be running. Instead, she wanted to step closer. She had the ridiculous urge to reach through the gate and give one of his curls a tug.

The guard swallowed hard. “I… the one who ran off with the…?” He glanced at Laena, then looked back over his shoulder. “I need to find my superior officer.”

“That would be best,” Captain Farrow agreed. “In the meantime, perhaps we might allow Princess Laena into the plaza? She looks as if she’s journeyed a long way.”

Instead of waiting for a response, he unlatched the gate and swung it open, inviting Laena back into her own home.

CHAPTER 5

For a woman who’d just been snubbed by a member of her own guard, Princess Laena was remarkably calm as she passed Callum and entered the palace plaza with her head held high and her satchel clutched in her hands. She wore simple wool skirts, a curve-hugging vest laced over the top of a gray blouse, and tall boots that reached almost to her knees. Green eyes sparked with determination beneath the kerchief she’d tied in her brown curls. A delicious mess of brown curls, highlighted with strands of red and gold from days spent in the sun. The kind of curls a man could plunge his fingers into. The kind of curls a man could get lost in.

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