The Queen's Assassin (Queen's Secret #1) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,73

all he has left of home, and he had rather grown accustomed to Shadow in her shirt and breeches.

* * *

WHEN THEY RETURN TO the inn, Garbankle is still leaning behind the front desk. He’s tearing up a notice about new Montrician tax codes. “I’ll be sure to let the vizier know distinguished guests are in town,” he says as they pass by. They smile at each other.

In their tiny room, Caledon and Shadow stand around uncomfortably, one of them on each side of a double bed that barely looks big enough for one. Somehow, being under a roof and inside four walls feels quite different from sleeping near each other in the cave. “I’ll take the floor,” Cal says.

“That’s not fair to you,” Shadow says. She clasps her hands in front of her and begins to fidget with her fingers.

“It’s not a problem,” Cal insists, despite the fact that he was secretly thrilled at the idea of not sleeping on a cold, hard floor. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. You’ve just recovered from a rather serious injury, remember?” he adds. “And I’m fine there. I’m used to it.”

But she shakes her head. “We’ve both slept on that frozen ground; you are as tired as I am. We will share the bed,” she says with a finality that brooks no disagreement.

Cal shrugs and points to a screen in the corner. “You can change. I’ll step out of the room if you like.”

Shadow gathers up the bottom of her gown and clomps over to the changing screen. “The seamstress made me quite a matronly night shift, so there is no need.”

While she’s taking off her dress, Cal removes his boots and slides under the covers. He tries to keep his eyes on the wall, but somehow, he can’t help glancing to the corner of the room where Shadow is changing. He can see her silhouette through the screen and looks away, abashed. He remembers seeing her walking out of the spring in all her glorious form. She had not been embarrassed to be seen then, and he’d admired her spirit. It was not all he’d admired, of course, but he was a gentleman.

“So tomorrow,” she says, interrupting his thoughts. “The vizier.” She steps out from behind the screen and the shift is as matronly as promised, but made of linen so fine as to make everything underneath it visible even in the low light.

Cal coughs and averts his eyes once more, trying to find a safe space for them to land. He has been alone for so long, he had forgotten how much he enjoyed female company. But while there had been many girls in Cal’s past, he’s never met one like her. The vizier, right, they were talking about the vizier.

“The vizier is our key to the palace,” Cal says after he has composed himself.

Shadow climbs onto the other side of the bed. He feels her leg brush his as she slips between the covers, and senses the slight pressure from it in every part of his being. He is a fool who should have slept on the floor.

“Can we discuss it in the morning?” she asks, voice groggy as she turns to the wall.

“As you wish.”

She doesn’t move again, so he assumes she drifted off to sleep. After the day they’ve had, she must have been exhausted. Cal is too, but the knowledge that Shadow is so terribly within reach gnaws at him, pushing sleep farther away with each passing moment.

Shadow of Nir, from the Honey Glade, a beekeeper, a maiden of the farm.

He remembers how she nestled up to him in the dark cavern, and how she didn’t move away when she awoke to find them so entwined. He wishes they were back there a moment, huddling for warmth, instead of in a cozy room with so much air between them.

At last, after a very long while, he falls asleep.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Shadow

LINDEN GARBANKLE KEEPS HIS WORD. The following afternoon Cal—or should I say Lord Callum—and I are summoned to tea at the vizier’s grand town house in the city.

We don our new finery and borrow the innkeeper’s carriage to take