Braeton.”
I turn down the covers and tell myself to go to sleep.
20
“What are you doing?” Tryndon asks when I step into our shared room.
“What do you mean?” I throw my pack onto a chair. “I’m going to sleep.”
My brother glances at the wall that separates us from the princess—from my wife.
“Don’t,” I warn.
Ignoring me, Tryndon asks, “Did you fight?”
“No.”
“Are you afraid the men will catch you?”
“No.”
“Then why are you in here with me?”
Lowering my voice so Amalia won’t overhear, I say, “At least for now, our marriage is one on paper only. It’s security against Father forcing Edwin to marry Amalia if, heaven forbid, he gets his hands on her.”
“Paper only?” Tryndon cringes as if repulsed. “You’re telling me you’ve taken on all the responsibility but none of the perks?”
In one swift movement, I snatch the pillow from the bed and swat him across the head.
Tryndon laughs, yanking the pillow from my hand. “It’s true.”
“Go to sleep.”
“Yes, captain.”
For half a second, I think about joining the rest of the men in the barn. Then I realize that’s ridiculous.
“Tryndon,” I say, “go to the barn.”
As if my brother finds that amusing, he grins. “You’re kicking me out?”
I jerk my head toward the door. “Go.”
“You’re serious?” Muttering under his breath, he clutches the pillow under his arm. “Fine, but I’m taking this.” He then tugs a blanket from the bed. “And this.”
Once Tryndon’s gone, I kick off my boots and pull my shirt over my head. I blow out the candle and slide into the bed without bothering to remove my trousers, imagining Amalia on the other side of the wall. Unable to help myself, I press my hand to the wood paneling, splaying my fingers against the knots.
Then I roll over and force myself to go to sleep.
21
Cassia studies the game board between us, unconsciously nibbling her bottom lip.
“No matter how long you stare at them, the pieces are going to stay in the same position,” I say.
Cassia smiles to herself. “I’m thinking.”
“You’ve been thinking for the last fifteen minutes.”
“I want to win this time.”
I laugh, sitting back in my chair and crossing my arms.
Since the curiper’s attack, the princess has visited me every night. And every night, I’ve beaten her at Echelon.
“Do you want help?” I ask, as always.
“No.” Which is her usual reply. “I think I’m getting it.”
I wait, my eyes lingering on the piece she should move, keeping my opinions to myself.
“What do pears taste like?” she asks rather suddenly, her eyes still on the board.
“What?”
She looks up, meeting my eyes. “Pears. The fruit.”
“I’ve never thought about it.” I grin at the strange turn of the conversation. “Well, let me think. They’re very sweet. Softer than an apple. And a bit more floral, maybe?”
Cassia wrinkles her nose. “Floral? That sounds awful.”
I shake my head. “That’s the wrong word. They’re good.”
After finally making a move, she sits back, waiting for me to take my turn.
Immediately, I move my piece, capturing hers—earning a satisfying hiss that makes me smirk.
“You’ve never eaten one?” I ask.
“Our pear orchards were all infected early, easily succumbing to the crop blight. I’ve read about them, and I’ve seen them in paintings. But, no, I’ve never had one.”
The girl has never eaten a pear, never even seen one. The very idea is baffling.
“What fruit do you have?” I ask.
“Apples,” Cassia answers. “Berries grow well in the cities. Apricots. We have plums as well, but those trees are vicious and mostly wild now. The fruit has turned poisonous.”
I stare at her. “Vicious…plums?”
She laughs. “Not the plums themselves. The Chasm spirits that inhabit the orchards. They taint the fruit.”
Before I can think of an answer, she stands, stretching her back. “It’s getting late. I should go.”
“We haven’t finished the game.” I glance at the board. “And I’m winning now.”
Cassia meets my eyes, smiling in a way that makes my insides knot in the pleasantest of ways. “I’ll win tomorrow,” she promises.
I lean forward and clasp my hands, resting my elbows on the table. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”
“Will you walk with Edwin in the garden again in the morning?” she asks as she pauses before the passage.
“I believe so.”
“I feel I might enjoy a stroll tomorrow as well.” She flashes me a mischievous smile. “Perhaps I’ll see you.”
Then she’s gone, disappearing behind the tapestry, and I’m left wishing she were still here.
Besides Amalia, I’ve never had a friend who is a girl—and I’m not sure Amalia counts, considering she’s my sister. But Cassia is quickly becoming a