The Queen's Line (Inheritance of Hunger #1) - Kathryn Moon Page 0,109

toward an open spot of the carpet, making room between us and Wendell. The tall blond rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly and seeming to melt as tension bled out of him, a small relieved smile spreading over his lips.

And then magic buzzed in the air around him, giving it a shimmery blue glow that was difficult to stare at, as if everything in focus around him was moving at a sudden and rapid rate. I'd seen magic like that before, and my lips parted as the glow spread out and then down, replacing Wendell with a massive and beautiful white tiger.

28

Daniel

The festival carried on, bodies churning in the field, barely noticing as their princess was bundled away, spinning through the grass. I watched Bryony go with Thao toward the tent, before turning and tracking the stranger she'd been dancing with. He was headed in the opposite direction, toward Cresswell, and I pushed off the stall I'd been leaning against, moving to join them.

I didn't recognize the man who'd been running for Bryony, but I had a sneaking suspicion this was related to what Emory and Jonathon had hinted. At the very least, it was something I might blame on Aric Martin as I was asked to do.

I was at the edge of the festival, searching through the dark, when I heard a hiss of whispers beneath the raised voices of the revelers. I moved behind a closed stall and found the three men.

"Was jus' lookin' to dance with a pretty girl, lads," the man groaned as the tall stranger pressed him to the wall of the stall, rifling through pockets and loose clothing.

I'd seen this new man approach Bryony and her Chosen earlier, and the way the princess seemed to bloom under his stare, batting her lashes in a way I'd never really seen from her before. She was certainly a far cry from the ferocious creature who'd held a sword to my throat, all girlish and sweet, giggling as the man had escorted her to the dancing.

He was older, tall, and dressed like a rogue but with an air of authority. I wondered if he was some secret kind of security, perhaps someone from the south meant to protect Bryony in the shadows.

"What are you doing here, Farraque?" Cresswell snapped at me.

The older man gave me a cursory glance before going back to digging in his captive's clothes.

"I came to see what the commotion was about. Could he be telling the truth?" I asked, eyeing the raggedy man they held.

I didn't recognize him either, but Emory had plenty of wastrels hanging about he might call on.

"The charm warned danger," the stranger growled, and then he stiffened, eyes widening. He twisted the wastrel's arm back and up, making the man yowl in complaint, before plucking a long pin pierced through the fabric of the sleeve.

"Doesn't look harmless," Cresswell said, eyeing the sharp tip dubiously. "But…"

But it didn't really look deadly either.

"Maybe he stole it," I said, thinking of my conversation with Emory and Jonathon.

"It's not jewelry though is it?" the stranger muttered, lifting the pin to his nose and frowning. "Smell that."

Cresswell took it from the man's fingers, barely bringing it closer before coughing and shaking his head, making the stranger's eyebrows tick up briefly. "Is it…"

"Lady's Slip."

I stiffened, staring at the pin, moonlight glinting off the edge where I could see an oily coating. "You think he was trying to poison her?"

"One good stab and she'd be close to death if not meeting him directly," the stranger said, ignoring me and staring at Cresswell, who growled but looked unsurprised.

The man they held captive abandoned his jovial persona upon realizing how thoroughly caught out he was, snarling and struggling in the other man's grip.

Poison. Poison is not petty thieving, I thought. This was an entirely different matter than what Em and Jonathon had suggested, but I knew my line.

"He looks familiar," I said, eyeing the scowling man pinned to the wall. "I think I've seen him around the Wing and Roost. Perhaps he is…one of Aric Martin's men?"

Cresswell and the stranger both leveled sudden and attentive stares in my direction.

"Oh, you think so?" the stranger asked in a smooth and dark tone. "Spend much time at the Wing and Rook?"

"I… No. I've only passed by and—"

Cresswell arched an eyebrow at me before looking to the stranger. "Well, Aric? Is he one of yours?”

Fuck. Fuck Emory, specifically. My guts turned to lead as the stranger,