The Beauty of Darkness (The Remnant Chronicles #3) - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,92

rained to the floor. It was torn in several places, and the hem was stained with mud. Brick-red blood smeared the fabric. His blood. That was where he’d gotten the nicks on his hands, ripping it loose from the thorny brambles where I had thrown it. The dress made me wonder about the girl who had worn it. The same dress I had torn so hatefully from my back and tossed away. My knees buckled, and I dropped to the floor. I held the dress to my face, trying to block Rafe out, but all I could see was him tearing it from the brambles, stuffing it in his bag, wondering about me the way I had wondered about him. But I had wondered all the wrong things.

I had imagined him only as a gutless papa’s boy. Not as—

“Lia? Are you all right?”

I looked up. Kaden was standing at the top of the ladder.

I scrambled to my feet and threw the dress behind the manger again. “Yes, I’m fine,” I answered, keeping my back to him.

“I heard something. Were you—”

I wiped my cheeks, then ran my hands down the front of my shirt before I turned to face him. “Coughing. The dust is thick up here.”

He walked over, the floor creaking beneath his steps, and he looked down at me. He swiped his thumb along my wet lashes.

“It’s only the dust,” I said.

He nodded, and his arms slipped around me, holding me close. “Sure. Dust.” I let myself lean against him. He stroked my hair, and I felt the ache in his chest as strongly as I felt it in my own.

* * *

It was late. Natiya was already tucked into bed in the cottage, and Enzo was asleep in Berdi’s room. Kaden and I sat in the kitchen while I grilled him on any other details he might know of the Komizar’s plans, but I sensed he was occupied with other thoughts. I was grateful he hadn’t brought it up again, but I knew our moment in the barn weighed on him. It had been only a passing tired minute that caught me off guard. That was all. After a bowl of fish stew that was surprisingly almost as good as Berdi’s, I felt fortified, ready to move forward.

Now Kaden patiently endured questions I had already asked. His answers were the same. He knew only of the Chancellor. Maybe he and the Royal Scholar were the only traitors in the cabinet. Was that possible?

My relationships with all of the cabinet members were rocky at best, except perhaps for the Viceregent and the Huntmaster. Those two had usually offered a smile and kind word when I entered a room instead of a dismissive scowl, but the cabinet post of Huntmaster was mostly ceremonial, a vestige from an earlier time when filling the larder was foremost among cabinet duties. Most of the time, he didn’t even sit in on cabinet meetings. The royal First Daughter was granted a ceremonial seat as well, but my mother had rarely been invited to the cabinet table.

My thoughts jumped back to the Viceregent. “Pauline will go to him first,” I told Kaden. “Of all the cabinet, he’s always had the most sympathetic ear.” I chewed on my knuckle. Frequent travel was part of the Viceregent’s job, visiting other kingdoms, and I worried that he might very well be gone. If so, Pauline would go straight to my father instead, not quite comprehending his temper.

Kaden wasn’t responding to anything I said, instead staring blankly across the room. Suddenly he stood and went to the pantry, rifling through supplies. “I have to go. It’s not far from here. Only an hour west of Luiseveque in County Düerr. We won’t lose time.” He named a rendezvous point where he would meet Natiya and me north of here tomorrow and told me to take a woodland trail. “No one will see you. You’ll be safe.”

“Leaving now?” I stood, and pulled a sack of jerky from his hands. “You can’t ride at night.”

“Enzo’s asleep. It’s the best time to trust him.”

“You need to rest too, Kaden. What—”

“I’ll rest when I get there.” He took the jerky from me and began rearranging his bag.

My heart sped up. This was not like Kaden. “What’s so urgent in County Düerr?”

“I need to take care of something, once and for all.” The muscles in his neck were like tight cords, and he kept his gaze averted from mine. And then I knew.

“Your father,” I