Five Dark Fates (Three Dark Crowns #4) - Kendare Blake Page 0,82
frozen berries or other things to eat. She smiles. The bear may not be her true familiar, but they are still quite alike.
“Trusting yourself around an ax again, eh?” Arsinoe asks. She means it as a joke, but Jules loses concentration and the blade buries itself only a few inches into the wood.
“Aye,” Jules says, and grunts as she pulls the blade free. When she uses the war gift, Jules’s edges are sharper. Her glances cut, and Camden’s claws are quicker to come out. But the tether is holding, and that is what matters.
“And what about Emilia? With your gifts tied together, is she a full naturalist yet?”
“No.” Jules pauses midswing. “But she has grown very involved with her horse.”
Arsinoe laughs.
“She wants me to be queen so badly. The Legion Queen. But you and I both know I’m not suited for it. With this curse or without. I’m a soldier. A warrior.”
“A guardian,” says Arsinoe, and Jules smiles.
“A guardian.”
“You’re as much of a queen as I am,” Arsinoe says.
Jules looks at her.
“No. I’m not.”
And it is true. After all that has happened, Arsinoe could rule if she had to. Sometimes she even feels the pull to lead the rebellion, which could explain why she and Emilia always butt heads.
Camden grunts and hops on top of the log pile, sniffing the air. A few moments later, Emilia and Mathilde ride into the clearing. Mathilde with Pietyr Renard on the back of her saddle.
“And what do we do with Master Renard?” Arsinoe asks, exaggerating his name.
Jules shrugs, eyes narrowed as she watches them approach. “Emilia says the spies will report back to Katharine that he’s awake. My bet is that she’ll decide for us.”
“I hope they tell her that I woke him up when she couldn’t.” Arsinoe smirks. “That ought to stick in her craw.”
Jules sinks the ax deep into a chunk of wood and wipes her hands. The horses stop at a respectful distance, and Mathilde lets Pietyr slide to the ground.
“What’s this?” Jules asks. “Afternoon exercise?”
Emilia nods to Pietyr.
“The prisoner has asked to see the queen.”
“Not that queen,” Pietyr says, looking at Jules with a curled lip.
Emilia dismounts and shoves him hard. “She is the only queen we have. So speak if you will.”
“You brought him all the way out here?” Arsinoe asks.
“We have eyes on the roads. Birds in the sky. The forest is secure.”
Jules looks at Arsinoe and sighs, then crosses her arms. With Camden seated beside her, the cougar’s head nearly reaching her waist, she gestures for Pietyr to come closer.
“What do you want, Master Renard?”
He frowns, like his name on her lips hurts his ears. “To thank you, I suppose. For making me well again.”
“You’re welcome. Though it’s not me you should be thanking but Arsinoe. It was her low magic that did it.”
“I know.” He frowns again. “I can feel it like mold growing across my skin.”
Arsinoe snorts. “That’s some thank-you.”
“I . . . apologize. I should not complain. Since it was low magic that got me into this mess in the first place.”
“You?” Emilia asks. “An Arron was practicing low magic? For what purpose?”
Pietyr glances between Jules and Arsinoe. “Should we not have this conversation someplace more private?”
“Say what you would say.” Jules lifts her chin. “Emilia and Mathilde are leaders in this cause. We have no secrets.”
“Very well.” His hands have begun to tremble, and he stuffs them into his pockets. They have put him in a thick gray coat, but he wears no scarf, and the skin of his neck and chest are exposed at the open collar. The healer in Arsinoe resists the urge to wrap him in a cloak. He is still weak and should be in front of a cozy fire with a hot bowl of soup.
“How is it that I have come to be here?” he asks. “I gather that I was stolen from the capital.”
Emilia shoves him again. “You are here to give information, not get it.”
“Emilia.” Jules shakes her head, then returns her attention to Pietyr. “You were stolen from your sickbed in Greavesdrake Manor. From what we have heard, you had been there for a long time.”
“You don’t remember anything?” asks Arsinoe.
“Have you ever been unconscious, Queen Arsinoe?”
“Yes.”
“Then you should know that is a stupid question.”
She frowns. In her mind, she takes away his bowl of soup.
“I was performing low magic in order to help the queen,” Pietyr says, looking back at Jules. “Needless to say, it did not work.”