The Queen's Assassin (Queen's Secret #1) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,58
pulls away, embarrassed about his outburst. She slides the injured arm out from under her, wincing. “Can you move it?” he asks. She wiggles her arm a bit. There’s a large gash and a lot of blood, but it looks like it will heal if they take care of it. And it doesn’t appear to be broken. She begins picking herself up off the ground.
“Let me help you,” he says. He puts her good arm around his shoulder and pulls her into a sitting position.
She puts her hand against her stomach and takes a few deliberate breaths. “Got the wind knocked out of me is all.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to do that?”
“You didn’t exactly give me a chance, and you were supposed to run.”
“Yeah.” He raises his eyebrows.
Shadow is subdued. “I’m sorry—”
But Cal doesn’t let her finish her sentence. “Let’s get you fixed up,” he says. He leans down and reaches under her knees and arms to pick her up.
“It’s okay. I can walk,” she says. But when she takes a few steps, she’s limping.
“Here,” Cal says. She doesn’t say no this time. He scoops her up and carries her the rest of the way to her horse, her arms grasping his neck tightly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Shadow
WE MAKE OUR WAY UP the high pass, leading the horses carefully over the rocks. Cal asks me if I’m okay, if I’m in too much pain. If I need to stop and rest awhile. I assure him I’m fine, but he still offers for me to ride along with him. Again, I tell him I’m fine. In the span of one day, he’s gone from dismissive to overly attentive. But that’s my fault, at least partially. I guess I might have encouraged it back at the clearing. I really was hurt when I fell, but I could have gotten up sooner than I did—it’s just that his sudden anguish was too enjoyable. Before that I’d have guessed his response to me falling out of a tree would have been a shrug and a “served her right.”
At the same time, I’m irritated that he seems so affected by my fall, although I can’t quite put my finger on why.
“Did you grow up in Serrone?” Cal asks me, breaking the quiet of our silent truce.
“Right outside of it, in Nir,” I tell him. “I live with my aunts on a farm called the Honey Glade. After they ended their active service in the Guild, they began running bee colonies and raising herbs. They make poultices and such that they sell these days.”
“Ah. Sounds nice, actually. Peaceful.” He gets quiet, and for a moment the only sound is the hooves clicking on the trail. Then he asks, “And your parents?”
“My mother is part of the Guild and she serves at the palace, so she isn’t around a lot.” Eventually I’m going to have to tell him the truth—how I’m currently running away from her and the plans she’d made for me—but I’ll worry about that later. Maybe if he finds me worthy he’ll speak on my behalf to the Guild, maybe even help change my mother’s mind. I urge my horse away from the cliffside.
“And your father?”
“My father . . .” I don’t know what to tell him about my father. Partly because I don’t know much myself. “Not much to say; he died when I was young.” I don’t often have to discuss my family with strangers and it’s making me uncomfortable. “How about you—how did you end up working for the queen?” I know most of this background already, but I’m desperate to take the focus off me and curious to learn what version of his story he’ll share.
“Long story,” he says. “Boring. I don’t like to talk about it.”
“Your father was Cordyn Holt, right?” I push him. “King Esban’s assassin.”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” Cal snaps. He adjusts how he’s sitting on the horse.
“Hardly anything to be ashamed about,” I assure him. Why ask me about my family if I can’t ask about his?