He stared at her, possibly reconsidering his oath. He let out a breath and tucked a thumb into his knife belt. “What, exactly, Bean…” He let the word linger, a reminder of who Miri was and who hiding had made her become. “Do you intend to do?”
In the close darkness, Miri waited, letting him see the tilt to the corner of her mouth and the seriousness in her eyes. “I intend to kill the bastard king.”
Cass’s mouth went slack, but she needed him to understand it was not just the single treachery she would repay. Her mother’s rule had been stolen by more than that king. The Queen’s Realm had been split into kingdoms to be ruled by seven men. It had been treason—and murder.
All of it would be repaid. Miri didn’t mention what they had done to her older sister or how she would try to break the true heir free. Some wounds had still not healed, after all those years, and as long as an Alexander, particularly her captive sister, the heir apparent, remained hostage, the cut would feel fresh.
Miri took a steadying breath before she climbed back onto her horse. “Not just the king of Stormskeep. Every one of the treasonous curs will die by my hand.”
Chapter 4
Miri had been right. Her word was law. Cass had not been in a position to argue her demands, though he’d certainly managed to make it known his opinion was counter to hers. He attested that a better course of action awaited and what she was suggesting seemed rash, but in the end, he’d done as she’d asked. He’d abandoned his strategy in favor of hers.
But nothing about Miri’s plans were rash. She’d been plotting since she was no more than a girl.
So, she had not dressed as a man and dropped over a cliff into a dangerous sea to be hauled away from those threats in a raggedy ship by men who feared her. Her long hair was, in fact, still intact, though she’d twisted it into a quick plait as her guard pointedly took his time resaddling his horse. She’d had her hair chopped in the past, when she escaped as a child and gone to live with Thom and Nan in the bustling town of Smithsport. It had been a traumatic and grueling journey, and she did not relish the idea of ever again being hidden in a damp, dark box on a boat, blood streaming from her busted nose, and having the sense that she couldn’t breathe. Her chest had been so tight and her heart so torn that she was convinced she might never draw a full breath again.
But that fear was not why she chose not to go on Cass’s ship. She was nearly sure of it.
Miri would, she decided, be agreeable to swapping her mess of skirts for the slim pants that would be inside her pack. She had been taught to sew, among many other things, but she’d long had a complicated relationship with skirts. She understood their purpose, the reason behind royal dress, and the pomp and the symbolism. It was a sort of power of its own and a separation. But that did not mean it made it easier to jump astride a horse.
The years that had followed her most complicated attire had seen her in threadbare rags, not because Nan would not have wanted her in better clothes but because it had been Nan’s duty to keep Miri from notice.
She had succeeded in that duty, and enough time had passed that it was easier to manage. The attack on the castle had come when Miri was young, before she’d grown into those gangly limbs. Her face had been narrow and thin, to the constant dismay of her nursemaids, and she’d favored her mother’s side of the family in the shape of her eyes. But Miri’s face and figure had filled out, her cheeks taking on the soft curve of her father, a far less recognizable royal. Once time had passed and she’d lost more of her resemblance to the Lion Queen, Nan had begun to let Miri’s hair grow, allow her to come along on occasional trips to the market, and let her work in the back rooms of the Blackwater.
The horse beneath her let out a soft nicker, and his ears pricked, and Miri adjusted his path to regain his attention.
The kings of the realm had thought Miri dead like her mother, and no one paid much mind to a lowly cleaning girl, but that had not stopped Nan from dyeing Miri’s lion’s-mane hair with plants that Thom’s men had brought from a continent away. They’d done everything they could to protect Miri. She would not let them down.
“Bean.” Cass’s word was a bit harsh, and Miri became aware she’d been ignoring him again, unintentional though it was. When she looked back at him, she realized, too, that it was nearly light. They’d ridden through the night.
Cass frowned. “The horses are in need of a rest. Shall you share with me precisely where we’re headed?”
His tone said,Aside from the killing of kings, of course. Miri eased up on her posture, letting the horse slow to a walk. “Pirn first. Then Kirkwall.” She wanted most of all to conquer Stormskeep, her true home, but that would be no easy feat. That left six other kingdoms—six other castles to invade and escape. Smithsport’s king had a castle on a small isle on the sea, but he was a sluggard and a fool. He would be an easy mark and little threat, so Miri would leave him for later. She didn’t want to start a slaughter where she lived. There was no reason to put Thom and Nan at risk if she were to fail in her other attempts.
Though it wasmorerisk, anyway, because the two had already risked their lives, the Blackwater, and everything they held dear.
Cass cleared his throat, bringing her attention back to him. The look he gave her said he’d not meant to launch her into explanation of her assassination plot, but Miri wondered if what else she saw there was surprise that she’d actually planned the thing through.
“Shall I find us an inn?” he asked.
She gave him a look. “There’s no inn for a day’s ride.”
He inclined his head just a bit then turned his horse to follow a trickling stream.
Miri remembered something else she’d learned as a child: just because you held rule over someone did not mean that person could not find a way to dictate your course of action. She clicked her tongue to urge her horse into a walk behind Cass. She had the feeling she would face more than one battle of wits with Cass, and it was not the time to waste her energy.
Silver River ran from the mountains at Blackstone to a small inlet near Smithsport. It was one of only two large rivers that allowed boat travel to the sea, but the land between there and Pirn was riddled with lakes and streams. Their path would be dependent on crossings, weather, and whatever troubles might arise on the road. The forests and trails south of Pirn were not particularly known for bandits, but times were tough in the entire realm. Reaching the seven kingdoms alone would not be easy, killing aside, but Miri had no other option but to get it done.
Her guard surveyed the land, slowing to a stop near a bend in the creek. He glanced at Miri as her horse came to rest beside his. “We’ll break here for the night. I’ll heat some water.”
Miri felt her eyes widen. She did not smell so much like a drunken goat that washing would be his first request, surely.
Cass’s lips tightened, his gaze averting from her face. “Nan sent new dyes,” he said. “For your hair.”
“Of course.” She hoped her cheeks had not colored. New dye was not a terrible idea, in case anyone noticed that Nan’s charge had suddenly gone missing while kingsmen were about scouring for sympathizers.
Miri stepped down from her horse, relishing the stretch of her legs. Her stomach reminded her she’d forgotten to eat, lost in her mind as she’d been, and she wasn’t sure exactly what was in her pack. She patted Wolf on the neck and scratched near his ear as she slid the bridle free. Though she wondered briefly whether horses trained well enough to ground tie would draw suspicion, she doubted very much that they would see many passersby in the spot her guard had chosen. As she moved to grab the saddle, her hand bumped Cass’s on the leather.
