The Queen's Assassin (Queen's Secret #1) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,62
Cal spreads his legs out by the dwindling fire. He tries to close his eyes and sleep some himself, but he can’t. His mind is racing.
He’s worried about what will happen when they get to Montrice. It’s not going to be so easy to get rid of Shadow after all. But they need to get there in one piece first. Then he’ll make his final decision.
He’s about to stand when Shadow’s head falls onto his shoulder. He’s still for a moment, wondering what to do. He should get out of the way, move her so she can lie down. He pulls his arm from where it’s stuck between them and places it around her. This way, he can shift to the side and lower her to the floor slowly. But as he begins to move, he finds he’s drawn to her warmth, and a thought occurs to him, unbidden: When was the last time he let someone so close to him? When was the last time he fell asleep next to someone else? And there’s Shadow’s arm to consider too. Maybe it would be best to leave her be and let her lie on him.
He returns to their original position and adjusts his arm to support her injury. He moves slowly, careful not to startle her. Somehow, he doesn’t want her to move away quite yet.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Shadow
I WAKE CURLED UP ON the cave floor. I sit up slowly, expecting to be stiff and sore, but I don’t actually feel too bad. I slept well, considering the conditions, and Cal’s salve is doing wonders.
I find him outside gathering sticks for our fire. I clear my throat. “Good morning.”
Cal’s shaved his scruff and washed himself in the stream, and looks much healthier than the day before, almost like a new person. “There she is, our lady of perpetual sleep!” he says, smiling broadly.
I bristle at the dig, but recall that I lobbed similar ones at him before. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
“There’s only so much that salve will do. Sleep will heal that arm faster,” Cal says without looking at me. He works on organizing the sticks. “And I was enjoying the peace and quiet.”
My nostrils flare. “Well then, I’ve given you that. Don’t you think we should get moving? We’ve lost a lot of time already and—”
“It will be awfully hard to play the part of a noblewoman with a gaping wound on your arm,” he says, motioning toward my injury.
It does look pretty bad when I take the leaves off. Aside from the gash, which runs the entire length of my arm and is dark blue and angry-looking, there are bruises on both arms and my legs, and probably elsewhere as well. I can feel sore spots all over my body. But he doesn’t know about those. “How so? I can wear long sleeves.”
“There are also scratches on your hands. And a bruise on your cheek. Women of high birth don’t walk around like that. How would you explain yourself? There aren’t many opportunities for that type of injury when you spend your days getting laced into elaborate costumes and sitting for tea. Everyone would want to know how it happened. They’d want a story. It would draw quite a bit of unnecessary attention.”
He’s going to lecture me about the behavior of highborn ladies? “What do you know about how noblewomen behave? Besides, I’ll just say I fell while riding, or something like that.”
“It will draw attention no matter what. Attention we do not need. You want to be my apprentice, that’s your first lesson: Don’t draw attention. Our very existence will cause gossip as it is. If you give them anything else, even the slightest tidbit, they’ll run with it. Make up all kinds of stories. Start asking questions.” He locks his eyes on mine. “And by the way, I know plenty about how noblewomen behave. I was raised at the queen’s court. As I recall, you’re the one who grew up on a farm.”
I blink a few times. He’s right, of course, and I can’t argue otherwise. “And what of it? Are you saying I’m too common to play the part of a noblewoman?”
Cal puts his hands up. “Nobody could ever say you’re