The Kiss of Deception (The Remnant Chronicles #1) - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,41
was free and adjusted my grip on the knife.
“Hello?” I called. I heard the crunching of footsteps, and someone stepped out from behind the wall. I screamed and ran toward him before he could even speak. I hugged him, kissed him, whirled around in his arms, so full of joy all I could say was his name over and over again.
He finally stepped back and cupped my face in his hands. “Had I known you’d be so happy to see me, I’d have been here sooner. Come, let’s go inside.” He led me into the ruin as if he was taking me into a grand manor, then sat me down on a tumbled block of stone. He looked me over, making a show of assessing my health, turning my face first to one side and then the other. He finally nodded, judging me fit, and smiled. “You did well, little sister. The finest royal scouts have been tracking you for weeks.”
“I learned from the best, Walther.”
He laughed. “Without a doubt. I knew when the stable boy said he saw you heading north, that meant you’d be going south.” He raised an amused brow. “But officially I had to lead a party north to keep up your ruse. I didn’t want to direct anyone straight to you, and up north I managed to leave more traces of your presence. When time afforded it, I came south with a few of the best to look for you.”
“You trust them?”
“Gavin, Avro, Cyril. You needn’t ask.”
They were Walther’s closest comrades in his unit. Cyril was a thin, scruffy fellow. It had to have been him that Pauline spotted in the tavern last night.
“So you approve of what I did?” I asked hesitantly.
“Let’s just say I wasn’t overly surprised.”
“And Bryn and Regan?”
He sat beside me and looped his arm over my shoulder, pulling me close. “My dear sweet sister, your brothers all love you as much as we ever did, and none of us blame you for wanting more from a marriage, though we’ve all been worried for your well-being. It’s only a matter of time before someone discovers you.”
I jumped up, shed my cloak, and spun for him. “Really? Look at me. If you didn’t already know who I was, would you have guessed I was Princess Arabella, First Daughter of Morrighan?”
He frowned. “Ragged clothes?” He grabbed my hand and examined it. “Chipped nails? Those aren’t enough to disguise what’s inside. You’ll always be you, Lia. You can’t run from that.”
I pulled my hand away. “Then you don’t approve.”
“I only worry. Back in Civica, you’ve enraged powerful people.”
“Mother and Father?”
He shrugged. “Mother won’t speak of it, and Father dutifully had a bounty posted for your arrest and return.”
“Only dutifully?”
“Don’t get me wrong. He’s humiliated and furious, and that’s only half of it. It’s been almost a month, and he’s still blustering around, but it’s still only a single small notice in the village square, and to my knowledge, no other bills have been sent out. Maybe that was as far as his cabinet could push him. Of course, they’ve had other pressing matters to deal with.”
“Other trouble besides me?”
He nodded. “Marauders have been creating all manner of bedlam. We think it’s only one or two small bands, but they disappear into the night like spirit wolves. They’ve destroyed key bridges in the north where most of our troops are positioned and created some panic in the outer hamlets.”
“Do you think it’s Dalbreck? Has a broken alliance created that much animosity?”
“No one knows for sure. Relations with Dalbreck have certainly eroded since you left, but I suspect this is the handiwork of Vendans taking advantage of our current situation. They’re trying to diminish our ability to mobilize the Guard, which may mean they’re planning a larger advancement of some kind.”
“Into Morrighan?” I couldn’t hide my shock. Any skirmishes with Venda had always taken place in the Cam Lanteux when they tried to establish outposts, never on our own soil.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll keep them out. We always do.”
“Even though they multiply like rabbits?”
He smiled. “Rabbits make good eating, you know?”
He stood and took a few steps, then turned to face me again, brushing back his unruly hair with his fingers. “But the worries and rage of Father are nothing compared with those of the Scholar.” He shook his head and grinned. “Oh, my little sister. What have you done?”
“What?” I asked innocently.
“It seems that something of great value to the Scholar has disappeared. At