Page 18 of Winter's Fate

“We live in the shadow of Silerith, my lady. We are always on our guard.”

She supposed they would need to be. Was that to be Etra’s future as well, then? Always looking over their shoulders and watching for assassins? It wasn’t their way, and the idea sparked a painful wound in Laena’s chest. That was the whole reason for Kat’s mission, the reason Aglye had sent an escort headed by Callum Farrow himself. For if Silerith aimed to commit murder, what other choice did they have?

CHAPTER 7

When Etra’s sloth-footed guards finally made their way to the scene of the attempted crime, they came with their queen tucked between their ranks like a porcelain doll wrapped in padding to protect her from bumps and cracks. She swept into the destroyed sitting room with the guards, the regent right behind, and stared at the disheveled room like it was a badly behaving child.

Usually Callum would have been impressed to have the queen—or queen-to-be, whatever she was—give her own inspection. She strode into the room so fearlessly. A family trait, perhaps.

But when he followed, he found her tapping her index finger on her bottom lip, frowning. “Are you sure Laena did not fabricate this situation, Captain?” she asked.

Hot anger boiled into Callum’s stomach, conspiring with the whiskey to place an impertinent response on his tongue. But when he caught sight of Laena, who was leaning against the wall—she ought to be resting after her ordeal—he forced himself to speak amicably. As Hawk would want him to.

Laena’s brown hair was in disarray, her skin so ghostly pale that it revealed a scatter of freckles along her cheeks he hadn’t noticed before. The paleness worried him. That bump on her head might be serious.

Injured or not, he half expected her to bite out her own response to her sister’s accusation. But shock had glazed her green eyes with a distant expression, and he wondered if she’d even heard what Katrina said.

“Her injuries are plain enough,” Callum said. Angry bruises were already forming on her neck, and that bump on her head was startlingly large. She really ought to see the physician.

To say that he’d been surprised when the woman had come barging into his guest rooms would be an understatement. He’d been in the shallows of a bottle of whiskey and heading for deeper waters when she’d come barreling in, flushed and breathless, as if a demon were on her trail. For a moment, he’d assumed—momentarily—that she was a hallucination. A drink-induced vision. Or that he’d fallen asleep before the fire, prompting what promised to be the world’s greatest dream.

But this was no dream, and Laena was injured and frightened, having fought off an attempted murder. And her sister thought she had fabricated it? Callum wanted to give the queen-to-be a shake.

“The former princess has a reputation for attention seeking, you see.”

Callum had not yet heard the regent speak, but apparently this situation called for his involvement. The man held his head high, and something about his posture suggested that he would dive in front of Katrina at the slightest hint of danger. Callum recognized coiled muscles when they were ready to strike, like a soldier’s. Though this man clearly wasn’t one.

A snake, perhaps.

They couldn’t truly think Laena would have made this up. Could they? He’d known the woman for a bare few minutesaltogether, and unless she was an exceptional actress, her distress was incredibly clear.

He was half inclined to step in front of her himself. Alas, he couldn’t protect her from their words. And he had a feeling she wouldn’t thank him for trying.

“Be that as it may,” Callum said slowly, “I saw the intruder myself. I gave chase. Do I also have a reputation for attention seeking?”

If the words were acidic, so be it. Even Hawk could not object. To speak of Laena—her own sister, disgraced or not—like she wasn’t even in the room, after she’d endured such a trial? In Aglye, it would not be tolerated.

Katrina pressed her lips together, as if she wished she might snap back at him. He almost wished that she would.

Unfortunately, one of the guards chose that precise moment to speak. “The window was broken from the outside,” he said. “Glass on the floor. Someone was in here.”

“By the mages,” Laena said sarcastically, “were theyreally?”

Callum suppressed a snort. So she had been listening after all.

Truly, he ought to have heard the disturbance. His room was directly diagonal to Katrina’s sitting room. The settee had tipped over and she’d shattered a vase.

He’d nearly allowed a woman to perish while he lazed around in a daze of his own making. It felt so much like a repetition of history that his breath caught in his throat, threatening to drown him.

In truth, he’d not done anything to help Laena at all. He’d merely run fruitlessly after the assassin, whose dark clothing gave nothing away about their origins. Not that he needed to guess; they could only have come from Silerith.

“I think we must assume,” the regent said, “that the assassin was after Princess Katrina.”

So they were accepting the assassin theory now. Excellent.

“Because we look so much alike.” Laena raised her hand as if to prevent the regent from uttering a retort. “No, Declan, that was a jest. You’ve heard of them? I’m neither dressed like a queen-in-waiting, nor golden-haired like my sister. I cannot believe the attacker mistook me for her, even from behind. Perhaps they meant to kill whomever they found here.”

She spoke strongly enough, but she still looked like death had passed over her. Before Callum quite realized what he was doing, he said, “Have you eaten since your arrival, my lady?”

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