Spirit above, he was beautiful.
A pair of tattoos on his left bicep declared his acceptance into the brotherhood of cavalry officers and also his position as a company commander. Those and the scars across the muscles of his arms and torso begged to be touched and explored, while black hair spread across his chest to pour in a narrow stream down to his navel … and lower. She suddenly felt warm all over, imagining her body next to his, with nothing between them.
After a couple of swallows, Alex lowered the waterskin and wiped his face with his shirt. That was when she saw the color inked into his upper right arm—his sword arm—and in a design as large if not larger than those on the other side. He caught her looking and twisted his shoulder so she could see it better. Rather than the black, blue, and red used for the army symbols, this one was soft shades of green and violet. It was a sprig of leaves and flowers.
Sage.
She raised her eyes to find him smiling shyly. He took a couple steps toward her and offered her back the bag. “Thank you. My lady.”
Sage reached for it automatically, and his eyes roved over her, lingering on the curve of her hips accentuated by her breeches. Their fingers brushed, but he didn’t let go. “I’m sorry about last night,” he said. “There were matters that had to be dealt with. I hope you didn’t wait too long.”
He hadn’t even shown up. All her guilt at not going evaporated. “I suppose it doesn’t matter, seeing as we have the next few months.”
Alex’s expression changed so fast it was like a door slamming in her face. “We need to talk about that.”
His tone made it clear he intended to do all the talking. Sage yanked the waterskin out of his hands. “What is there to discuss? I’m going at the request of Her Majesty.”
“Sage, I love you, and I want to be with you as much as possible.” Alex closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “But this is not the way to do it.”
Fury and embarrassment hit her like a blow to the stomach. Her free hand balled into a fist. “You think I’m doing this just to spend time with you?”
Alex moved his hand and looked down at her. “Aren’t you?”
“I am going as the prince’s tutor,” she said slowly, through gritted teeth. “I am also willing to assist you in any other instruction you wish your soldiers to have. That is my purpose.”
At least as far as he was concerned.
Alex’s mouth pulled into a tight line. “I can’t have you there,” he said tersely. “I don’t … want you there. Don’t make me…”
“Don’t make you what?” Sage struggled to keep her voice quiet. “I’m not one of your soldiers, Alex. You can’t order me around.”
He drew his brows down. “Oh, but I can. Did it ever occur to you how I’d have to treat you as your commander? I can’t have anything undermine my authority. Everything would be strictly professional. No affection, no favoritism.”
He still thought she only wanted to be with him. “I’m not some lovesick schoolgirl following you around like a puppy.”
“That’s not what I meant, Sage.”
“Yes, it was.” She crossed her arms. “If you’re my commander, then why don’t you order me to stay?”
“I shouldn’t have to. That I don’t want you along should be enough for you to say no.”
I don’t want you. He’d said that twice now. “You don’t want to look weak,” she spat. “You’re afraid people will think you couldn’t handle being around me. This is about your precious image as a commander.”
Alex flinched; she’d hit a nerve. He shrank back and pressed his palms into his eyes. In that moment he looked so vulnerable she felt a stab of regret. “Please, Sage, just stay here,” he said. “I can’t do my job if I have to look after you, too.”
They were arguing in circles. “It’s a good thing I can take care of myself, then, isn’t it?” She pushed past him, heading back into the palace, but he hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her against him.
“Please, don’t leave like this,” he whispered in her ear. “We have so little time, Sage. I don’t want to spend it fighting.”
She very nearly melted as he pressed his lips to her neck. Water from his hair dripped down her shirt collar. “Me neither,” she breathed.
“I’ll make it up to you, Sage, I promise.”
Her half-closed eyes snapped open, and she twisted around to face him. “You don’t have to make anything up to me, because I’m going.”
She shoved him away, spraying him with water as the skin was squeezed. The surprise hit to his face enabled her to slip from his hold. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Captain, I have preparations to make.”
*
The princesses didn’t even bother showing up for lessons. Instead, Sage and Clare continued working on the list of Casmuni terms and phrases they’d connected to Demoran ones, but the only words Sage heard in her mind were Alex’s.
I can’t do my job if I have to look after you, too.
He saw her as a burden. Was that what she’d been at Tegann? More than once he’d insisted she couldn’t take care of herself.
Did it ever occur to you how I’d have to treat you as your commander?
She didn’t want favoritism. She wanted to help. But keeping Her Majesty informed—spying for the queen, she might as well call it what it was—didn’t feel so much like lying to Alex if she had other reasons to be there. Now it was her only purpose. All that was left was the lie.
“What is wrong with you?” demanded Clare from across the table. “You’re acting like you don’t want to go anymore.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t,” mumbled Sage.
“Why not?”
I don’t want you along.
“A hundred small reasons that add up to this being a ridiculous plan.”
Clare didn’t look convinced. “Name one.”
Sage had been fiddling with the end of her braid. “My hair. It’ll be impossible to keep it clean out there.”
“That’s a pathetic excuse,” said Clare.
“No,” Sage insisted. “It’ll always be in the way. I never kept it this long when I was younger.”
“So cut it.”
Sage blinked at her friend. “What?”
“Solve the problem. Stop dithering and commit.” Clare shook her head. “This isn’t like you.” She stood and marched into the queen’s empty sitting room next door, returning with a large, sharp pair of scissors. Clare set them on the table and folded her arms. “Tell yourself you’re going.”
It was ridiculous to think Sage wouldn’t still be able to back out if she cut her hair, yet somehow she felt it would end the argument within. Or at least silence one side of it.
“You’re right,” Sage said, pulling the leather tie off the end of her braid. “Let’s do this.”
20
THE TAVERN WAS crowded with soldiers, and Huzar recognized the feeling permeating the air. They were leaving tomorrow. It was time for one last hurrah before the work began.
They were all serious, well-built men, and they were silent about their mission, even after a few rounds. One who drank enough to start boasting was immediately removed by his companions. Quinn had chosen his Norsari well. Huzar slipped outside after several minutes’ observation from the corner. There was nothing to be gained from watching them, and he didn’t want to be a face they recognized later.
His man met him in the street and followed Huzar silently to the leather shop several turns away. Inside was another of their countrymen, manning the store for his employer. Huzar waited for a last patron to finish his business and depart before signaling his companion to draw the shades and bolt the door. He settled on a stool and placed one tattooed arm on the counter as the stablehand returned to his side, idly admiring a pair of gloves laid out on the counter.