Crown of One Hundred Kings (Nine Kingdoms Trilogy #1) - Rachel Higginson Page 0,35

colors out of loyalty to our mission, to the kingdoms we’re trying to save from an incompetent king and the Ring of Shadows.”

“Oh.” His answer made sense. And royal colors weren’t uncommon knowledge. But that flicker of instinct flared again. There was more to Arrick than he wanted me to know. His questions were carefully crafted, meant to put me at ease. And yet I felt him digging deep, searching for answers I intended to stay hidden.

Two could play at that game.

He persisted, “So, Stranger, if you’re from Elysia, why do you wear Soravale’s colors?”

I bit down on my lip, sharpening my fictitious history. Would a common Elysian family ever have dealt closely with one from Soravale? Maybe merchants. But how about their nine-year-old daughter?

“You stole it,” he assumed. “You’re a fugitive after all.”

“I am not a fugitive,” I huffed. “And I didn’t steal it. I had a friend when I was younger. He gave it to me.”

“He?”

“Yes, he.”

I cleared my throat and turned my palm over, holding out my hand. “May I have that back now, please? Or are you planning to hold it hostage all the way to the Marble Wall?”

The cool metal dropped into my hand.

“I wasn’t holding it hostage.”

“Oh really?”

“I merely wanted to ensure your cooperation.”

I almost smiled. Almost. “And you have it. There is no need to kidnap my possessions again.”

His blue eyes flashed with fire. “I hope you understand what we’re sacrificing for you. We’ve placed your journey above all our other priorities. And we’re in the middle of a war.”

“A war?”

“A rebellion,” he clarified. “Battles aren’t being fought on a field, but our work is important. Even you, the recluse that you are, can believe that.”

“Do not presume to know what I believe, Commander. Nor should you assume the work you’re doing is important. So far, I have seen nothing but happy villages and peaceful life. I’m afraid this war you are stirring is nothing but whispered rumors in a realm that has no need for battle or rebellion.”

He leaned toward me, the leather of his saddle creaking beneath his muscled thighs. “You are sheltered. Sheltered, stubborn, and spoiled. You might not appreciate my help, Stranger. But you need it.” His heels clicked against his steed’s belly and he moved forward with a jolt of power.

I watched him work his way through the battalion, his head held high the entire time. He didn’t stop until he was seated at the front of his rebel army. And never once did he look back.

“That was brilliant, Tessana,” Oliver muttered at me in a harsh whisper so those riding around us couldn’t hear.

“I told you not to call me that.”

“Fine. That was brilliant, Tess.”

“What?” I took a deep breath and tried to ignore the seedlings of guilt that sprung up in my chest. “He started it.”

“He started it?” He let out an elongated sigh, “He is young,” Oliver noted. “But when compared to you his maturity is staggering.”

“Dragon’s blood, Oliver, what would you have me do? He is not our friend. And he is most certainly not our ally. He has an agenda and until I know what it is, I cannot—”

Oliver whispered. “Cannot be polite? Or at least silent until we arrive at our destination?”

“He intentionally picks fights with me! And he pries too much.”

“You’re right,” Oliver conceded. “But you cannot afford to lose him. We were naïve to believe we could take this journey alone, Tess. I’ve heard the rebels speak of the royal armies and how they patrol these roads. And the whispers of the Ring of Shadows are worse. We are fortunate to have a guard. The Light is shining on us. But you are determined to ruin this, and I don’t know why. You’re a fool if you still believe we can do it on our own.”

I bit my tongue to keep from hissing something foul. And to keep from admitting he was right. But I couldn’t quell the need to push Arrick, to press and press and press until he finally gave way and revealed that hidden thing I knew was there. “Fine, Oliver. If you are so concerned with our safety, I shall hold my tongue in the future. Even if Arrick is determined to infuriate me. I shall be more silent than you have ever been.”

I thought he would react to the subtle dig at his abandoned vows, instead he lifted his brows and smiled. “Arrick?”

“That is his name.”

“Of course, it is.”

“Oliver, it is.”

“I know that’s his name,”

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