Igniting Darkness (Courting Darkness Duology #2) - Robin LaFevers Page 0,42

in, welcoming its bracing slap. When my lungs no longer feel as if they are bound in iron, I lean against the stone wall next to the window. Of all the locked doors in my heart, this one has the most chains wrapped around it. More than any of the others, it has the power to rob me of what little peace I’ve managed to eke out.

I do not begrudge the queen her growing babe. Indeed, I am happy for her. I only wish her happiness did not feel as if it were ripping my own heart wide open.

I press myself more firmly against the hard stone at my back and pretend it is Beast’s solid presence that holds me until the wave of pain and desolation has passed.

 Chapter 19

Aeva

After our near miss with the search party, the rest of our trip is uneventful. The cities and larger holdings are crawling with soldiers, but we evade them easily. Tonight, there are barely two hours of daylight left when we decide to halt for the day. Once I have seen to our horses, I make my way toward the camp Tola and Tephanie are setting up for the girls. Tola looks up as I approach the campfire. “There you are.” She stands up and brushes off her hands. “It’s your turn to help set up, and I have promised to show one of the queen’s guards the secret of how we shoot a bow so accurately.”

I scowl at her. “You’re going to tell him our sacred secrets?”

She rolls her eyes at me. “No, cranky goose. I’m going to pretend I am, then use the opportunity to teach him how to shoot better.” As she brushes past me, she says in a lower voice, “Besides, I think it is high time you put the girls to bed for a change. I have had my fill of Charlotte for today.”

“Liar,” I mutter. She laughs and disappears toward the other end of camp.

When I look down at the others, the little wasp is watching me, her eyes unreadable in the deepening shadows. Sometimes when a mare throws a foal, even though we begin training it in its earliest days, it will never accept a saddle or rider. I wonder if the wasp is like one of those wilding foals that cannot be tamed no matter what, or if she has just not found the right trainer yet.

I reach out and ruffle her hair. She ducks away in annoyance. “If you’re waiting for us to make your bed, you will be stuck sleeping on the bare ground,” I tell her.

Her head snaps up. “Tephanie and Tola always make our beds for us.”

“For Louise, yes. But you are of an age where you can do things for yourself.”

She thrusts out her pointed chin. “I am a lady, and ladies do not do such things for themselves.”

I laugh outright. “And that is something you are proud of?” I squat down so that I am eye to eye with her. “You have it wrong, waspling. There is no pride in not knowing how to do things, in having to be waited on like a small child.”

“Why should I want to do servants’ work?” The scorn in her voice could peel the bark off a tree.

“Why would you want to be dependent on others? Why would you—who are so filled with pride—not relish doing things for yourself? Being competent. Having skills.”

She scoffs. “There is no skill in making a camp bed.”

“Oho!” I lift a brow. “You think not? Perhaps we should wager on that.”

“There is nothing that you have that I want.” Her mouth twists into an irritated little bow.

“And here I thought you enjoyed our knife lessons.”

At last—a reaction! She gapes at me. “That’s not fair! You’re already doing that.”

“True, but it is something you want from me.”

She considers another minute, then rolls her eyes. “Very well.”

I must work to keep the smile off my face. “We have a deal,” I agree solemnly.

We collect the bedding from the packs and move closer to the fire that one of the men has started. She looks around at the ground. “Where do we place it?”

“Now, see? That is the art of bed making—knowing where to put it. If I were to tell you, you wouldn’t be doing it by yourself.” From across the fire, I can feel the dove’s eyes on me, observing.

The wasp sighs and flounces six arrow lengths away. “Well, I don’t have to sleep beside you, do