“There are castle guards all over the city,” Quinn said. “I had to take back streets.”
He laid the princess on the couch, careful not to wake her. Sweat dripped down her temple, her head lolling to one side, but she didn’t move.
“Where was she?” Maya returned with a water skin, handing it to him.
Quinn took several deep gulps and wiped his mouth along the back of his hand before he replied, “Behind Swan Lagoon. Her mare stumbled, and she hit her head. She’ll have a bruise on her temple and a few scratches.”
Jenson stood, moving to pull the blinds halfway across the window as a group of Jade Cloaks rushed by. “Good. It’s not what we planned, but Fallon will still be pleased.”
Quinn nodded, his eyes lingering on the guards as they vanished. “I’m going to cloak the house.” Both Maya and Jenson gave him an inquisitive look. He never used magic unless there was a good reason. “The streets are swarming with palace guards.” Or worse, Aeron spies, he thought. “I don’t want to take any chances.”
“I’ll stay with her.” Jenson jerked his head toward the princess.
Quinn ignored Maya padding up the spiraling stairs behind him. Only when he reached the landing did he turn to face her. “Magic is dangerous. I don’t need you in the way.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be fine.”
Quinn struggled to keep the snarl from his voice, the headache making him cross. “You aren’t coming. I don’t have the time to argue about this.”
“So don’t argue.” Maya stepped toward him, a flash of sensitivity she always fought to hide flickering in her eyes. “Please, Quinn, I worried about you. You always make me worried sick.”
“You worry for nothing. You know I always come back.” Quinn’s voice softened. “So, try not to fret, Yaya.”
Her cheeks reddened at the childhood nickname.
“You know you’re the only one who still calls me that?” She smiled. “I just can’t help but worry, Quinn. If something happened to you...”
Quinn forced himself to make the smile genuine. “You know I’m always careful.”
Without warning, she gripped his tunic and pulled his face down to hers. Quinn had no time to object as her lips touched his cheek. Quinn knew he was glaring at her, but she met his eyes evenly.
“I…go. I’m sorry.” She brushed past him, vanishing into one of the rooms on the left side of the narrow hall.
Quinn shook his head as he opened the door to his study. He cracked his knuckles, glancing around without success for the jar of ginger root. Gods, his head was pounding. Willing the headache to ease, he stepped into the intricate circle etched along the wooden floor.
His body relaxed, filling with a state of blank contemplation. Quinn reached inside himself, searching for the slumbering well of magic power. The pool of blue-green fire grew as he touched it with his mind, seeping through his skin. Slowly, he drew out the flame until it shimmered visibly in his palm, the swirling tattoo covering his left side giving off a faint glow. Quinn swirled the magic around his body, testing it, willing it to grow. His thoughts slipped away, his mind nothing but a void of focused tranquility.
When the fire filled both his fists, he closed his eyes, mentally demanding his power bend to his request. Moments later he opened his eyes; a faint blue-green glow flickered outside the shutters. Quinn whispered his thanks to The Twelve, breaking the bond, and the flames vanished, retreating within him once more. He stepped out of the circle.
Closing the door to his study, he hesitated, glancing sideways at the bathing room across the hall. A long, steamy bath would do wonders to ease the resurfacing headache. But raised voiced echoed from the main room downstairs: Jenson’s calmness counteracting the second, fear-laced tone.
With a sigh, he jogged toward the stairs, pulling at the tie holding thick hair away from his face. Once on the main level he leaned against the wooden railing, gnawing on his lower lip, arms folded across his chest.
The princess sat upright and alert. Her freckled nose wrinkled in anger, large forest-green eyes blazed, and she held a wet rag against the greenish-purple bruise forming on her temple where Kellen struck her.
“You won’t—” she caught sight of Quinn, and stopped mid-sentence.
He strolled over to the armchair where Jenson lounged once more. “You seem distraught. Is something wrong?”
Her voice was no more than a whisper. “You’re spies. Who do you work for?”
“Spy is a filthy word,” Quinn said. “I’m no spy, I merely collect information.”
She ignored him. “I would know your face anywhere. All the young palace spies do is swoon over you, and you’re the talk of all my father’s council meetings. It’s Quinn, correct?” She was shaking, fists clenched in her lap, but her soft voice remained calm.
She hides her fear well, he thought. That’s a good start, I suppose.
“Pleased to meet you,” he said, trying not to let his exhaustion fuel his sarcasm. “Although you misunderstand. We don’t want to harm you. Those are Aeron’s intentions.”
The princess’s face paled. “Aeron?” she whispered. “He doesn’t exist. He’s a nightmare made to scare children who won’t stay in bed at night.”
“Is he?”
She opened her mouth to reply but said nothing.
“We mean only to protect you,” Quinn continued. “Like our organization, Aeron has spies everywhere. Nowhere is safe. He infiltrated the castle years ago. So rather than complaining, you could start with a thank you.”
“A thank you?” Her eyes brimmed with ice. “You have no right to tell me where I am or am not safe. How do I know I can trust you? You have quite the reputation. Seduction and lies are hardly the proper way to get information regardless of who you work for.”
Jenson’s laugh went unnoticed.
Quinn stood, inches from her face in a single stride. He towered over her, but her eyes didn’t falter as they met his. “My dear, that’s just business. Business required of me to avoid any harm befalling you. Besides,” he leaned forward, “I’m an honest man.”
Her throat bobbed, though her stare never faltered. Quinn almost raised an eyebrow as she stood, her expression defiant. “That’s Your Highness to you, and something tells me there’s no such thing as an honest man in your line of work.”
Quinn’s smile was feral as he stepped back, teeth flashing. “Oh, but there is, Your Highness. An honest man takes only what they need. A dishonest man, well, they will take more than they need and stab you in the back while you sleep to keep you from discovering the truth.”
Jenson’s foot bounced against the side of the chair. “That’s the sort of men Aeron collects, the men we mean to keep you away from. Quinn’s never done anything besides attain information we might use to protect you.”
Her pretty voice dripped with sarcasm. “I guess I should thank you.”
“Yes, you should.” All three heads turned toward the stairwell to see Maya perched on the edge of the wide railing. “What these lovely gentlemen are taking forever to say is, we want you here no more than you want to be here. But your safety has been our focus for years. We have no interest in seeing Aeron rise to power.”