Page 55 of To Kill a King
Zadé glowered. “Not voluntarily.”
Oh. She fought the urge to look away. “I’m sorry. But surely they didn’t blame you for that? It’s hardly your fault.”
“Why not? They blamed me for wakin’ up stupid, too.” She stared at her flask again and sighed. “I need a drink. A real one.”
“If you’re not drunk, why act like you are?”
“Better ta be underestimated than over.” She glared at Aliya, shaking her finger. “Don’t be tellin’ anyone. Iz none o’ their business.”
With a nod, Aliya reached for the wineskin, which the other woman handed over. “As far as I’m concerned, your background is your own to share.” She took a few swallows. “This tastes good. Thanks.” She returned the waterskin. “And thank you for helping us escape the Red Cloaks.”
“Sure thing, Princess.” Zadé perked up. “Oh, hey! I suppose I shouldn’a be callin’ yeh Princess, huh? Elsan says yeh‘re queen?”
Aliya frowned as her stomach hardened. How many of her secrets had he blabbed? “I’m not going to rule. Not if Malkov has anything to say about it.”
“Why not? All kings need a queen, what fer heirs ‘n all.”
Ugh. Kids? With him? Aliya shuddered. “Not this one. His last three wives died gruesomely, under questionable circumstances. The servants said he killed them, and if I married him, I’d be next.”
“Sounds like a real jerk. Most men are,” Zadé said, taking another drink.
“Elessan’s not.” The words left her mouth before she could censor them.
Zadé gave her a knowing smile and saluted with the flask. “No, Princess. Yer boyfriend seems ta be one o’ th’ decent ones.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Aliya countered with a little more heat than necessary, closing her eyes and leaning back against the rock again. Even if she wanted him to be, she wasn’t ever going to admit to being such an idiot as to fall for the first kind person she met after her escape.
“Sure, he’s not.” Zadé sat up suddenly. “Hey, Elsan says you can impersonate an elf?”
Aliya blinked as a flash of panic flooded her body. The water turned ice-cold. His lips were much looser than she expected.
Taking her silence as an affirmative, Zadé asked, “Can ya fool another elf?”
“I think so?” She swallowed. “I don’t think I can do Elessan’s accent, though.”
Zadé waved her hand like she could brush Aliya’s cares away. “Yer accent’s fine. Iz yer looks I’m worried a‘bout.”
“My appearance is the last thing anyone needs to concern themselves with,” she mumbled, half to herself. “Wait, why are you asking?”
Aliya marched back into the camp, her hair dripping, dressed only in a white shift. Elessan gaped as his mouth went dry. The nearly transparent fabric clung to her hips and breasts. He averted his gaze, afraid of being caught staring, and busied himself poking at the logs in the fire.
“Elessan.” She came up to him and squatted so they were face-to-face. Her skin was flushed, either from anger or the heat of the springs. “What’s this about sending me to Filathas?”
He sighed, glancing at her face then back to the flames before his eyes wandered. “Zadé’s aunt is the perfect person to teach you to control your magic. Learning from her is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Plus, being in the elven lands will put you out of your husband’s realm for a while. Possibly long enough for this traitor sentiment to blow over.” As an added bonus, it would get her out of reach of the sun elves, who would no doubt use her as a political prisoner.
“But I can’t pretend to be an elf! Not for any amount of time, anyway.” She paused. “Zadé also says you won’t be allowed into Filathas.”
“A human wouldn’t be, either. Elves are fairly exclusive about who they allow to come and go from their lands.” His stomach was a gaping pit at the thought of handing Aliya off and moving on with his life, probably never to see her again. He’d just have to cross his fingers that whatever story he came up with for Tsara, it would be good enough for her to stick her neck out for him.
“Princess!” Zadé came running into camp, carrying fabric rolled up in her hands. “Yeh fergot yer clothes!” Coming to a stop at the edge of the firelight, she noticed Elessan. A slow smile crept over her face. He stifled a groan.
Aliya’s face paled. She looked down at herself and gulped before standing to accept the bundle. “Thanks,” she mumbled. Looking anywhere except at him, she pulled the dress over her shift.
Zadé’s eyes glinted as she smiled at him, exposing her fangs.
He sighed. Zadé would never drop the ‘girlfriend’ nonsense now.
Clearing his throat, he steered the conversation back to a safer topic. “If no one stands up to the king, he will continue to murder innocent people, no?”