The Queen's Assassin (Queen's Secret #1) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,63

common.” He laughs at his own remark.

I feel my jaw clench and decide to change the subject. “Maybe we should head out to the spring to catch some fish for breakfast.”

“I still have biscuits,” Cal says.

“I’ll consider one of those stale biscuits once we’re on the verge of starvation. I don’t even know where those things have been, nor do I want to.” He doesn’t respond to me. He continues picking up sticks, and sets to work rekindling the fire.

I want to say more, but I know I shouldn’t pick a fight. As much as I hate to admit it, I need him until I’m recovered and there may be things I can learn from him. “I’m going to go wash up,” I say, turning to walk down to the spring.

It’s a short distance before I find a semi-secluded spot where the pool cuts behind some trees. I’m glad for the privacy, but before I can dip a toe in, my aunts’ faces appear in my mind, distorted as if they’re watching me through glass.

They’re using the orb to look for me.

I quickly blink them away and the vision of them scatters. Though they saw me, I doubt they can pinpoint where I am. I don’t want them to catch up with me and drag me back home, or worse, to the palace, but I can’t help being pleased that they’re searching for me. As guilty as I feel for the worry I’m sure I’ve caused, it’s nice to remember they care so much.

When I’m certain they’re gone from my mind, I finally strip off my dirty clothes. The shirt is tricky, though, and unfortunately I can’t ask Cal to help me. I slip out my good arm first, carefully peeling the garment over my head, then down the injured arm. It’s still sore, but the wound has become more pink than blue, so it’s healing well. I wrap my arms around myself until I get all the way into the water, just in case Cal is watching.

The water is cold. I shiver but force myself to walk in up to my chest. It’s bracing at first, but soon the clear water feels amazing. I lean my head back and soak my hair. I reach up to touch it, expecting to find long hair spread out around my head. I almost forgot it’s so short. No soap, so I just scrub my scalp as best I can. That alone makes it feel better.

I put my head back in the water and listen to the muffled sounds below, water running gently in my ears, the soft swaying of aquatic plant life and small trout, turtles zipping through mazes of their vines.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spy Cal to my left, sitting on a rock near the shore, fashioning a long, thin stick into a fishing pole. At first he isn’t paying any attention to me—he seems determined to find us a decent meal. But then he glances up and catches my eye. Though we are frozen for a mere moment, the warmth of his gaze washes over me like a wave. He raises an eyebrow, a challenge, and I decide I don’t care. Let him look.

I slowly make my way back behind the trees and drag my clothes into the water and scrub those off too, laying them out on a few large rocks. Hopefully they’ll dry in the sun while I swim for a while longer.

When I put my damp clothes back on, they’re cold, and stick uncomfortably to my thighs and torso. Cal is still fishing; I can hear splashing noises as he wades deeper into the water. I walk back to camp and add wood to the fire so I can crouch close to it to get warm. Cal returns a few minutes later holding up a good catch, several shiny silver fish hooked on his line.

I can’t help but smile.

He roasts them over the fire and we eat them with the biscuits from his bag. “They’re fine. A little crunchy, but fine.” He shrugs.

I hate to admit it, but he’s right. The biscuit is awfully hard, but not too bad if I let it dissolve in