The king’s sister was a walking classified docunt with no security clearance and zero regrets about it.
"Lady Thessa. Legitimately one of the most boring human beings alive. Her husband has a mistress." Blair’s voice pitched into sothing bright and sugary. "Good morning, Thessa!"
Thessa nodded stiffly and kept walking.
"You’re terrible."
"I’m an accurate bitch. There’s a difference."
Two noblewon passed them in the opposite direction, arms linked, wearing gowns the color of deep wine. Both of them shot a dirty look and gave Guinevere a once-over.
"Lady Veyra attempted to mount Maddox at the Spring Tithe two years ago. He shut her down so fast her dignity is still on the floor of that ballroom. Three of her friends watched and all told her it was foreplay."
"And the sister?"
"Couldn’t tell you. Has the personality of a wet napkin and backbone of a whiskey dick. Her opinions match whoever she’s speaking to. Next."
Guinevere stared at her for a full second.
Blair shrugged. "Sue . These won have spent the last decade making sure I knew I was too loud and too unmarried. All of them constantly throw themselves at my brother."
Sothing warm and entirely unwelco loosened in Guinevere’s chest. Not at the last part, but she wasn’t ready to examine that yet.
"For what it’s worth, I know exactly what that’s like."
Blair shot her a sideways glance. "I wasn’t going to like you. ’Go sit with the unconscious woman in my bed’ is not how I planned to start my morning."
"And?"
"And it’s too late. I already like you. I had a whole week of bitchery choreographed. Gone. Congratulations, we’re friends now. There’s no exit clause."
Guinevere felt her mouth actually curve. A small one. Real.
They moved down the gallery together, past more stares. It was nothing she wasn’t used to. If anything, the Drakencrest stares felt less sharp than the Lunaris ones. Curiosity instead of contempt.
Blair steered her toward a side corridor that bypassed the main courtyard. "Co on. We’re taking the forest path. The main road down the mountain takes an hour on foot and I am not spending an hour watching you trudge."
"Is it safe?"
"Drakencrest forest?" Blair snorted. "It’s the most heavily warded stretch of old growth on the continent. Yes, it’s safe."
✦✦✦
The forest was quiet. Blair was not. She was completely at ease talking to a virgin about the sex lives of Drakencrest.
"Sterling is the third in command. Madam Elowen asked him to brand her ass with a hot poker while he was fucking her. She gets off on the pain or sothing."
Guinevere’s jaw dropped. "Did he?"
Blair gave her a flat look. "Obviously."
"Sterling didn’t say a word last night. None of them did. I would have never thought."
"Don’t let his smart guy act fool you. That man has a gift when it cos to won. Older won in particular. He had two at the sa ti in the library. Don’t ever sit in the leather armchairs by the fire."
"Noted."
"I’m getting you a new cloak. Before Maddox gets back and wraps you in gold like a present he bought himself. Which, technically, he did buy you. But that’s beside the point."
Guinevere huffed a laugh for the first ti in over a week.
Then she went rigid, her arm snapping out across Blair’s chest to bring them both to a dead stop.
"What—"
"Sothing’s wrong."
A sll that didn’t belong. Copper. Ash. And sothing rotten that made her queasy.
A man’s voice echoed through the trees, barking orders.
"Search and secure! Move!"
She grabbed Blair’s wrist, pulling her down to a crouch in between two pines.
A figure stepped onto the path where they just were. He was robed in black, and his face was hidden under a cowl. The air around him moved wrong, bending the light in thin threads that made Guinevere’s eyes water to look at directly.
Magic like that was rumored to be on this side of the world, but most wolves considered it a myth. She stood corrected.
The mage lifted a hand, and said sothing in a language Guinevere did not recognize. The air grew colder around them in a way that had nothing to do with the morning.
For a terrifying mont, his eyes landed on the trees Guinevere and Blair were hiding behind, but he turned away, vanishing into the woods in the opposite direction.
More soldiers arrived, fanning out to sweep the treeline in a tight grid.
"Two down in the ferns." One said, his voice carrying across the slope. "Co out. Slow. Hands where I can see them."
Guinevere’s wolf snarled low in her chest. She did not let it reach her face.
She stepped out from the pines first, hands raised, putting her body between Blair and the soldier.
"Please, sir. We’re just servants," Guinevere said, voice calm. "We were running an errand for Lady Thessa when we heard the screams. We don’t know anything."
Boring, unfaithful-husband-having Thessa was now the most useful woman alive.
The soldier squinted at them. His gaze moved over Guinevere’s suit, over Blair’s, over the quality of the fabric and the obvious gold in Blair’s eyes.
"Servants," he repeated flatly.
"Yes."
He laughed once. It was not a nice sound.
"Dragon-blooded servants with eyes like hers and skin like yours. Try again."
"She’s telling the truth. We’re nobodies," Blair said quickly. She sold ’nobody’ with the conviction of a woman who had never been one. "Lady Thessa is expecting us in twenty minutes and we’re already running late."
The soldier’s mouth curved as he turned to the man beside him. He jerked his chin towards Guinevere.
"Rough them up. The mage said if we find high-blood won we bring them back. If they’re nobodies, they can handle a little convincing."
The cover story had lasted approximately four seconds.
Guinevere’s wolf lunged up inside her.
He stepped forward, knee rising. She twisted at the last second, taking the hit at an angle that saved her spleen, but his knee still slamd into her at full speed.
She hunched over, falling onto her side in the pine needles gasping for air.
One rib, minimum. Probably two.
Blair shouted her na from what sounded like a very long distance away.
When she looked up, she saw that soldier standing over her with a smile on his face.
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