Gaia's Secret (16 page)

I peered up at Alex.

“I thought you might want this since you
didn’t eat earlier.”

I wish he’d stop acting like a gentleman
because it only made me angrier. But I was so hungry I shoved the
roll into my mouth. As I ate, he turned sideways in his chair and
stared at the fire. The angles in his face were sharp in
concentration, his eyes fixed in thought. There was a quiet
strength to him, like there was nothing in this world he feared.
And it was that confidence that made him even more threatening.
Which reminded me…

“Um, Alex, I was wondering…”

He seemed apprehensive, but his eyes
flickered to me.

“How is it that everyone knows who you
are?”

He looked back at the fire. “I’m an Aegis.
The Aegis are usually known throughout the realm.”

It sounded like his answer was recited. “But
people don’t react the same way to your parents.”

Alex took a sip of his water and then thumbed
his glass on the table. I started wondering if the answer to that
question had something to do with this apparent reputation of
people around the king. And in Alex’s case, he was…better looking
than the average male. At least that’s what every other woman in
this world thought because they all gawked at him like they’d never
seen a man before.

Maybe I didn’t want to know what he was
famous for.

“For some reason,” he started, his choice in
words careful, “I have—”

“That’s all right.” I didn’t want to hear it.
“I don’t need to hear about your female conquests.”

He choked on his laughter and looked at me
with a gleam in his eyes. “You think
that
is why I’m
famous?”

I eyed him, unsmiling.

He shook his head. “Please, I know you like
to forget we grew up with each other, but I hope you know me better
than that.” His eyes bore into mine, the firelight reflecting in
them. For some reason, I felt self-conscious.

“I don’t know what I think about you
anymore.” I looked away. “Everything I knew about you wasn’t
true.”

“You’re right.” His humor was gone.
“Everything you knew about my circumstances wasn’t true. But I’m
still the same person, and I still find that behavior detestable,
like I always have.”

Even though I wanted to argue with his claim
about being the same person, I knew he wasn’t lying. Not this time.
I could feel his sincerity, but I wanted to believe he was lying.
It was easier to be angry if I found fault with him.

“I…have a reputation with my blade. Sword
fighting is natural for me. I don’t realize the impact it’s had
until I’m recognized by strangers. I thought my skill was
average.”

From what I knew of Alex, he was anything but
average.

“Oh.”

Silence.

“So did you just let me win?” I asked.

There was a spark in his eyes. “Not
always.”

Silence again.

“Nice throw by the way,” Alex said.

Well, I felt ridiculous. As if Alex needed me
throwing a mug at some person’s head to “help” him. “By the way, I
wasn’t trying to give us away.”

“Daria, I’m sorry.” He stared at his glass.
“I was angry but I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. It’s
just…since we are Aegis, people naturally assume that a person with
us is valuable—especially if we’re away from the castle. And no one
can know you’re here.”

His last statement made me think of the
conversation we were having with Otis before three madmen showed
up.

“What was that man Otis talking about…some
secret army?”

Alex took a deep, thoughtful breath, staring
past me. “There’s been growing unrest in Gaia for years. Drought
and famine. Many blame the king and his lords, accusing them of
hoarding all the profits.”

“Profits?”

Alex looked back at me. “Gaians are artisans.
Each region is known for different trades. Take Alioth, for
example. It’s primarily agricultural because they have the most
cultivable land. Lord Commodus’ territory, Orindor, is known for
mining…”

I saw where this was going. “The goods are
redistributed throughout the realm?”

Alex nodded. “And lately, with all the famine
and drought, people are blaming the king, saying he and isn’t
fairly distributing produce. The people also believe that their
financial compensation is well below what it should be—that the
king is abusing his power.”

“Is it true?” I asked.

Alex sighed. “Yes and no. There isn’t as much
produce the past few years so the distribution is even less. Still,
I don’t believe the king is to blame for it, but he’s not exactly
helping. The people are hungry and angry, and he does nothing. We,
meaning at least my family and your dad, believe something greater
is happening. Greater than we even realize. And after listening to
Otis, it sounds like there is someone recruiting people—like those
men—for an army. Where they are, we’ve no way of knowing. We’ll
have to inform Alaric, and hope he’s heard of something from Lord
Commodus.”

“And what about these things happening to
some of the outlying villages? Something called gargons?”

Alex was silent for a moment with his
thoughts. “That is news to all of us and it’s unsettling if it’s
true. The king needs to be warned, if he hasn’t been already.”

“You’ll have to tell him then, Mr.
Protector.”

Alex glanced up at me, a funny grin on his
face. “Sure thing, princess.”

I grinned back.

See, talking to him didn’t kill you.

Maybe it wasn’t
so
bad being around
him, at least not when there were things to talk about.

But that was the problem. Talking with him
reminded me of how we used to talk about everything. All because
I’d trusted him. That was before time proved his character, as only
time can. And that character proved to be a false one.

Alex stood then, and walked to the armoire in
the room, pulling out a few blankets. He moved to the fire,
spreading them out on the floor beside it.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I,” he said without looking at me, “am tired
and going to bed.”

“On the floor?”

He stopped and glanced up at me. “Well, I’m
not sharing the bed with you, and there isn’t the smallest
possibility I’d let you sleep on the floor. So, yes, I am.”

Once he finished arranging his blankets, he
lay down. He tucked his arms behind his head and stared up at the
ceiling, deep in thought. For some reason I couldn’t pull my eyes
away from him. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I still searched for
the boy I knew, the boy that was hidden in the body of this man.
But there was something about this man version I liked, the
strength in his face, in his arms…

“Why are you staring at me?” Alex was looking
at me.

Shoot. “I just…you don’t look…how you used
to.”

If he felt anything his face didn’t show it;
he just stared right back with the same stoic expression, and I
felt even more uncomfortable. “I’m sure I probably don’t look the
same either.”

Just stop talking.

But a grin brightened his face. “Three years
hasn’t changed you all that much. And I could never mistake anyone
else for you.”

His tone was surprisingly delicate and
sensitive. Personal. For a long silent moment we were still,
studying one another.

A hardness returned to his features and he
looked away and rolled over. “Good night.”

I continued watching him, his chest rising
and falling with each breath.

Why was I watching him sleep?

This was a disaster. I’d fallen right back
into talking with him, almost how we used to. I’d let down my
guard, but it wouldn’t happen again. I couldn’t let him hurt me
again.

I glanced towards the mattress and stuffed
pillows. My muscles ached to rest on the bed and get lost in the
pile of warm blankets. I glanced back at Alex, lying on the hard
floor. No, I couldn’t.

I grabbed my cloak, yanked the quilt off the
bed, and arranged it on the ground, using my cloak for a pillow.
The floor was unforgiving, but I was exhausted. Besides, Alex had
been enough of a gentleman. If I let him do any more, it would be
impossible to keep finding fault with him.

Warmth on my cheek woke me. Once I pushed my
lids open, my eyes rested on a pair of deep green ones hovering
close.

“Time to leave.” Alex’s breath tickled my
nose.

He held my gaze a moment before walking
towards the fireplace and folding the blankets. Blankets we had
slept on. Except, I wasn’t wrapped in those blankets. I was on the
bed, wrapped in covers.

I sat up. “How did I get here?”

Alex didn’t turn around. “I moved you.”

He stacked the blankets into a pile, and
paused, glancing at me sideways. “It’s our last night of relative
comfort for a while. Trust me, you’ll hate yourself later knowing
you wasted a good bed.” He walked over to the armoire and piled the
blankets inside.

“But what about you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t wake up,” I
muttered.

“I can.” Alex turned around to face me. “You
were talking a lot, even for you.”

Fire licked at my neck and I felt horrified.
When Alex and I were younger, we used to fall asleep in their
library all the time. He’d always teased me for talking in my
sleep. Only this time, I was nervous about what my subconscious
might have said. I already knew it wasn’t on my side. “What did I
say?”

Alex’s gaze dropped and he raked a hand
through his hair.

Oh, no.

“It was gibberish,” he said.

“Was it that bad?” I almost didn’t want to
know.

His eyes met mine as he fought to suppress a
grin. “Your subconscious has a…better opinion of me than you.”

I knew it. My cheeks burned as my eyes
narrowed.

When I didn’t say anything, Alex made his way
to my bed and sat on the edge, careful not to sit too close. His
mouth opened, but I felt his hesitation just as he closed his lips.
“I think I’ll keep it to myself.”

I stared at him, mortified. “You
wouldn’t.”

“I know. It’s not fair.” He glanced away.
“But you don’t need to worry. I know none of it’s true.”

He looked back at me then.

I had been about to say, “Well, now you know
how it feels,” but I couldn’t. Whether it was the way he was
looking at me or something else, I didn’t know. But this morning,
the fight in me was gone.

For now.

A firm rapping sounded on the door.

Alex stood and walked to the door as I
crawled out of the bed.

Cicero peered in. “We don’t have much
time.”

Alex handed me my cloak and pack, and helped
me—despite my resistance— sling it over my shoulders. Sonya was
waiting for us in the dark, empty hall, her smile wide the moment
her eyes found me.

The inn was asleep, the corridors and rooms
devoid of life. We exited through the front entrance into the
sharp, cold morning. Thick banks of fog obscured the landscape,
casting an opaque veil over everything in our path. Remnants of
wood smoke lingered, the damp morning air chilled my bones. I
pulled the cloak tighter, trying to retain my body heat as we
continued around the corner.

Once we reached the stable, Sonya halted
before a dark mass. It was a man about the size of a mountain, and,
from what I could tell, had the power of one. He loomed above me,
solid as a rock, dark skin pulled taut over bulging muscles. There
was a supernatural strength to him—one that might have scared the
life out of me under any other circumstances. A single leather vest
covered his upper body, hanging open, exposing his defined torso.
Leather cuffs were strapped around his bulging arms that were
folded over his chest, and an enormous sheathed sword hung from his
hip—quite possibly as long as I was tall. His black eyes bore down
on me so intently, I thought his gaze could probably burn a whole
in my head.

“A child? I was expecting someone older and
more dignified.” His voice was the lowest bass I’d ever heard. It
was difficult distinguishing his words; they all sort of rumbled
together.

I straightened my posture, feeling a scowl
twist on my face.

“Hmm,” the man growled, examining me without
expression. “A young woman. Impetuous. Inflexible. Insecure.”

That was it. I wasn’t sure why every stranger
we’d met had some grand expectation of who I was supposed to be,
but I was tired of it. Particularly this morning.

“Excuse me.” I stared hard into the eyes of
the giant. “But who do you think you are, going around insulting
people you don’t even know?”

My companions stiffened, but the man
continued to stare, unaffected.

“Master Durus.” He placed a hand over his
flat stomach, giving me a slight bow. “If you find the truth about
your character insulting, I suggest you change your character, my
lady.”

My face burned hot.

“The horses?” Cicero said before I could
embarrass them further.

“Follow me.” Master Durus spun around and
disappeared into one of the stalls.

Sonya and Cicero both glanced sidelong at me
before following him, but Alex didn’t move. He just stood there,
studying me with the hint of a grin.

My eyes narrowed. “What are you smirking
about?”

He grinned wider, and motioned for me to walk
ahead.

I pushed past Alex and marched after the
others, feeling Alex’s amusement behind me. The others were
whispering around a group of four horses and ceased the moment I
entered.

“Please give Stefan our thanks,” Cicero
said

“Certainly,” Master Durus replied. “You have
the journal?”

“Yes, thank you.” Cicero patted his
cloak.

“The roads are clear.” Master Durus nodded at
Cicero. “Sonya, Alexander.” Then his eyes settled on me.

I stared at him, waiting for him to say
something. Instead, he bowed and vanished into the cold morning
air. Cicero didn’t waste another moment.