Page 77 of Pretense

Jalissa studied the costumes without really seeing them. It was easier to face the clothes than Edmund. “I know. And I understand why you would have put such a plan together. But it is hard to think about you contemplating the best ways to kill each of my family members.”

“It was my job.” Edmund sighed, shifting his position on the floor where he sat. “Life as a spy is not glamour and adventure. Spying involves lying to everyone around you, including to your family back home. You can never tell the truth. Ever. You skulk in the shadows, stealing information, always knowing that if war comes, you could be asked to change from spy to assassin. When you live in the shadows, some of that darkness seeps into you.”

His voice held a pain Jalissa had not heard from him before. On the surface, he always appeared to be a carefree prince, facing life with wit and humor.

But he had spent years as a spy in her kingdom. And it had left him far more scarred than even his family realized. It might not be the same kind of scars that Farrendel had, but they were still there.

Jalissa hesitated, then she set her hand on his where it rested on the floor. “I am sorry. It must be hard, keeping so many secrets from your family.”

She knew all about that. She had not told a soul about her secret romance with Elidyr and, when he had died, she had mourned all alone with no answer for her family’s questions about her change in mood.

“The secrets can be a burden…and a regret.” Edmund pulled his hand out from under hers, then clasped her hand. His fingers were warm and strong, large against her slimmer, delicate ones. He picked up her hand and gently pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I hope you still like me when I tell you all of them.”

Jalissa’s breath caught at the brush of his lips against her skin. Her face was heating, the tips of her ears burning, and she might just melt right where she sat. How could something as simple as a kiss on her knuckles turn her so weak around Edmund?

She did not care what other secrets Edmund still had. She would trust him to tell her when he was ready, and she would understand, even when they hurt. His secrets were the past. A darker past where Tarenhiel was torn between war with the trolls and near war with the humans. Things had been desperate, before Elspetha and Farrendel’s marriage saved them all.

And, while Elspetha and Farrendel had been the beginning, perhaps Jalissa and Edmund could be the final link that bound their kingdoms together into an era of peace for both of their peoples.

Feeling bold, Jalissa leaned closer, her hand still clasped in Edmund’s. “There is nothing you can tell me that will make me change my mind.”

His gaze fell away from hers, and he released her hand. “I thought elves didn’t make promises that they might not be able to keep. You don’t know the secrets I have yet to confess.”

“No, but I know what you were and what you did in my kingdom.” Jalissa reached out and grabbed his hand in both of hers before he could pull away farther. “But now I also know that you will use those skills for the good of Escarland and Tarenhiel. You proved that in Kostaria, and you are proving it again now.”

Edmund still did not look at her. Instead, he pulled his hand out of hers and stood. “We only have a couple more hours before the train leaves. We should pack our own costumes, change, and get to the train station.”

Of course. Jalissa stood and brushed off her dress. Romance would have to wait. Right now, they needed to concentrate on tracking down these assassins and saving her family.

* * *

Several hours later, Jalissa boarded the Escarlish passenger train. She wore a sturdy Escarlish dress with her hair pinned up and under a kerchief to hide her ears. She clutched something Edmund had called a carpet bag that was stuffed with more clothes and spy gear.

Before her, the passenger car stretched long and crowded with rows of benches barely big enough to fit two people. Humans claimed several of the benches already, despite the early. More people shoved past Jalissa as she hesitated. Near the back, a mother wrangled a toddler while a baby screamed in her arms. Up front, a man puffed on a pipe, filling the train car with noxious smoke that seared Jalissa’s nose and churned her stomach.

“I think I see a few open benches near the back, dearest.” Edmund rested a hand on her back and gently nudged her forward. He wore generic Escarlish trousers and a worn shirt underneath suspenders and a coat with frayed sleeves that still hid his derringer. His light brown wig changed his appearance so much even Jalissa nearly started in surprise.

Behind him, Sarya wore a black dress, a hat, and a black veil, playing the role of Jalissa’s recently widowed sister.

Jalissa worked her way down the aisle. There were so many people, she kept bumping into shoulders and elbows. Was this what the average Escarlish citizen experienced every day? Jalissa assumed conditions were not quite so noisy, crowded, or dirty on a Tarenhieli passenger train, but she had never personally experienced it so she could not say for sure.

“Let’s sit here.” Edmund gestured to two benches on the right-hand side of the train car.

The worn padding on one of the benches had a large hole while a dubious stain spread across the other. Grit ground beneath Jalissa’s shoes while the pipe smoke was tickling her throat, along with a musty, unclean stench.

Gingerly, Jalissa slid onto the bench, holding the carpet bag on her lap. She did not know what else to do with it.

Edmund took the seat beside her while Sarya perched on the bench behind them. After a moment, a family claimed the seats across the aisle, and one of their girls sat next to Sarya, casting her wary looks.

“You can tuck your bag under the seat.” Edmund leaned over and did exactly that with his carpet bag.

Jalissa wrinkled her nose. “The floor is filthy.”

Edmund shrugged. “The carpet bags are sturdy and patterned so that they don’t show the dirt.”

How many other times had this bag been stuffed under seats like this? Jalissa hurriedly set it on the floor and nudged it under the seat, no longer wanting that bag touching her.

She brushed at her skirt, nearly jumping at the sight of the tiny, silver-colored band around her finger. It was all a part of their act, even if a part of her had shivered when Edmund slid that ring onto her finger. Would he someday do that for real? It was a human marriage custom, after all.

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