Page 55 of Blade of Secrets (Bladesmith 1)

I force myself to meet Petrik’s eyes. “How do you mean?”

“Just pay attention. You’ll see.”

The weather grows warmer and wetter the farther we go. The trees gradually change from those with needles to those with leaves. The canopy becomes thicker, blocking out more light and the rain, which makes for easier travel. Fewer plants grow aside from the trees because very little light gets down to the ground. Only the road remains open to the alternating sun and clouds.

We risk traveling on it again at Kellyn’s behest. We’re close to our destination, everyone eager to reach it as quickly as possible. We cross paths with a few other travelers. Kellyn and Petrik are friendly, making impressions, while Temra and I are silent, drawing up our hoods.

Petrik’s words have been like a hammer in my mind, beatingagainst my skull, making it impossible for me to think about anything else.

Pay more attention to the mercenary, as if he would—

I happen to glance over at Kellyn, and when I do, my eyes instantly meet his. I look away hastily, before I can see any sort of expression cross his face.

He was watching me. Staring at me?

Yes, because I’m the bladesmith. I possess magic. I’m strange, and it’s natural for him to be curious about me.

But a few minutes later, when I catch him doing it again, I say, “Stop that.”

Temra is up ahead with Petrik, both of them leading Reya along.

“Stop what?” the mercenary asks.

“You’re looking at me.”

“You’re looking at me,” he counters.

“Only because you’re looking at me!”

“If you say so.”

“It’s the truth.”

My whole body feels overheated, as if I’m back in the forge. The secrets the sword shared with me are a burden I didn’t realize I wouldn’t want. I don’t like knowing this man thinks I’m beautiful. But there’s no way to take it back. One can’t unknow a secret.

“It’s the sun,” he says, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“What?”

“All the sunshine. It’s making even more freckles burst across your arms and face.”

“So? You’ve never seen freckles before?”

“They’re even on your lips,” he says, peering closer.

“Stop looking at my lips.” I clap a hand over my mouth to make it impossible for him.

He grins, as if he finds my reaction amusing. But then he steps back to his side of the road and keeps his eyes on the path ahead.

Who even pays attention to lips?

And how does Kellyn not have a single freckle on him? His hair is red, after all. Don’t those two always go together?

Instead, the sun is darkening his skin, making it glow almost.

I huff.

I am not impressed by him. And his lips are stupid. Look at them. All symmetrical, with the lower slightly bigger than the upper. They pull up into a grin, even though he’s not looking at anyone in particular.

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