Page 23 of The Queen's Shadow

She awoke to a knock on her door. She blinked the sleep out of her eyes, and for a moment, couldn’t remember where she was. Sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the threadbare blanket, the dull wooden boards of the walls, and the cabinet barricading the door.

She shot up as everything came back in a rush—Amanakar, the chanters, Arphaxad. A heaviness descended on her chest, and she swung her legs over the side of the bed. At least she’d been left to sleep.

“Who is it?” she called, reaching for her boots, which she had kicked off the night before. Her dagger was still there—the one the Inetians hadn’t found—and Karim’s dagger with its black handle stamped with the Inetian sigil of a golden bird was still in her boot.

“Cass,” a familiar voice said softly. “It’s me.”

Relief swept through her like a tidal wave, and she did her best to school her face into a neutral expression before she dragged back the cabinet with a horrible scraping sound, pulled the deadbolt, and opened the door.

Arphaxad stood on the other side, his left arm secured in a sling. The guard was nowhere to be seen. He wore a fresh uniform in the red and green colors of Medira. There were dark circles under his eyes, and the stubble along his jaw had progressed into a full shadow. His mouth was tipped in that familiar, arrogant smile, which made her heart give a traitorous thump.

“Did you sleep well last night?” he drawled, his gaze flicking to the cabinet she hadn’t pushed all the way back in place.

She glared at him. “I did, thank you very much. No thanks to you, leaving me alone in a Mediran outpost.”

He arched a brow at her. “You alone in a Mediran military installation is exactly what I was worried about.”

She smirked. It wasn’t everyday she was granted free access to a Mediran military installation, even if it were one as remote as this. “Too bad your friend oh so helpfully posted a guard at my door.”

Arphaxad blinked. So, he didn’t know. “Smart man,” he said finally.

“And to think, I was so worried about you.”

“You were worried about me?” His smile broadened. “Cass, I’m flattered.”

“Well, I’m not anymore.” She crossed her arms, warmth rising to her cheeks. Her eyes traveled to his sling. “No longer at death’s door, I take it?”

He shrugged, then winced as if he had forgotten about his shoulder. “No, thank the Archer. Encar is good at what he does. He had a healing tincture he’d traded for with an Alliance caravan. Seems to be working, at least for the pain.”

“Better than nothing,” she said.

They were quiet for a moment, each waiting for the other to say something.

“We’ll need to give a report to Ramon,” Arphaxad said finally, his eyes skittering away from her. “He’s in charge of the outpost here and of dealings with the enclave. Our first line of defense.”

Cassandra nodded. They had to tell someone. Figure out what kind of force they could gather to stop the idiocy of the Inetians. They’d already wasted enough time.

And then Arphaxad would go back to the Mediran palace, and Cassandra would go back to her queen. That was all that was left.

Arphaxad shifted uncomfortably. “We’ll need to get the information to the king. Do something about the Inetian ambassador. It’s going to be . . . tricky.”

That was an understatement. “Rendra will need to know, too,” she said.

“Of course,” he said quickly. “I would hope this leads to some sort of . . . of alliance.”

She stared at him. An alliance between Rendra and Medira. It had been unthinkable for so long. Something more than a tenuous peace would be . . . incredible. Her mind started to turn, as if it were just waking up. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Maybe, just maybe, they finally had the pieces to stitch the broken bonds between the two countries together. A greater cause to unite them. A tiny flame of hope lit in Cassandra’s chest.

“I’ll do my best to encourage the king to send an envoy to Rendra as soon as possible,” Arphaxad said.

“Medira would stoop so low?” she teased.

His mouth tipped. “You can be insufferable, you know.”

“I don’t think I’m alone in that,” she said.

A group of soldiers clomped down the hall from the direction of the barracks, slapping and cajoling each other as they went. Cassandra tensed as they passed. A few of the men blinked when they saw her, clearly not expecting a woman in their midst.

Arphaxad glanced over his shoulder as the men piled out the door and into the cobblestone courtyard. When they were gone, he turned back to her, meeting her gaze with a sudden intensity. “You have my protection here, Cass,” he said. “I hope you know that.”