Gilded Serpent Danielle Jensen (i can read with my eyes shut .TXT) 📖

Teradale that I’d been found, which meant my father arriving soon after to lead us back home.”

“Would you be punished?”

A memory, so faded as to be little more than an impression of sound and sentiment, filled his head. Of riding on Pom Pom next to his father’s stallion, the sun beating down on their heads, listening to war stories. “No. He wasn’t much for punishment. Rarely anything worse than being forced to muck stalls or the like. But I was generally so desperate to please him that knowing I’d disappointed him in any capacity was worse than a lashing.”

And the last thing Killian had done was disappoint him.

Shaking his head to clear away the rising grief, he said, “Pom Pom was the only one with me when I was marked.”

“Will you tell me how it happened?” she asked. “None of the girls in the guard seemed to know the whole of it, and if she knew, Bercola wouldn’t say.”

It was hard not to stiffen at the mention of the giantess. He’d heard nothing of her since their conversation at Alder’s Ford, and he couldn’t help but wonder where she was. If she was well. If, maybe, he’d been too harsh in sending her away.

“Very few know the story,” he finally said. “My mother, and I suppose my brothers. I was not yet five years old, and I, along with my entire family, had journeyed north to Mudaire. I was supposed to swear my sword to King Derrek Falorn’s daughter, Kitaryia, the idea being that I’d be raised alongside her so that my loyalty would be assured. At any rate, the day prior to when the ceremony was to take place, my mother stuffed me into fancy clothes to sit for a portrait, none of which suited me. So I saddled Pom Pom and left the city.”

That part was hearsay recollected by his parents, for he didn’t remember the clothes or the portrait or riding alone through Mudaire. But clear as day, he remembered what had happened next. “I went galloping down one of the paths along the coast, waving the new sword my father had given me and pretending I was off to slay a beast or some such nonsense. Pom Pom must have been weary of my shouting, because as we entered a copse of trees, she slid to a stop and sent me flying over her ears and into the dirt.”

“And you loved this animal?”

“Most definitely,” he confirmed. “Anyway, I was sitting in the dirt shouting foul words at her, and someone said, ‘I believe this blade is yours, Killian.’” He swallowed, his throat feeling suddenly thick. “I looked up, and this enormous man in golden armor stood over me, holding out my sword. I tried to take it back, but he kept it just out of reach, and being the entitled little Calorian shit that I was, I said, ‘You give that back or my father will have you lashed, you thieving bastard.’”

“You did not!”

“I did. Fortunately for me, Tremon apparently has a good sense of humor, because he only laughed. I was in a right frenzy because he still had my blade, but at that moment, Pom Pom came up to stand at my shoulder, and she stared at him, trembling. Not like she was afraid, but as though she knew we were standing in the presence of a god. It was her reaction that finally clued me in to who I was talking to.”

He could feel Lydia’s eyes on him, then she said, “You don’t have to tell me what he said, if you don’t want to.”

And he never had told anyone, at least, not word for word. When his father and his men had finally caught up with him, all he’d said was, “Tremon marked me,” and everyone had believed him, despite there being no real tangible proof.

“You told me what Hegeria said to you the night you were marked.” Killian hesitated, then said, “He asked me if I wished to protect the hope of the realm. And I said yes.”

Lydia was quiet, and as they continued down the path, it began to snow. At first only a few drifting flakes, but soon it turned thick and heavy, the north wind biting through his clothes. Then she asked, “Do you remember her? Kitaryia?”

“I never met her.” But he remembered clearly his father teaching him the words of the oath he’d been supposed to swear to her. So clearly that he’d needed no reminders of them when he’d eventually sworn them to Malahi. “That night, one of the corrupted got into the palace and assassinated King Derrek, and Queen Camilla and Kitaryia went missing. My father organized countless searches, but their bodies were never recovered, and it was assumed they’d either been taken or had been cast off the balcony into the sea.”

“Do you think it was Rufina who did it?” she asked while pondering the Falorn queen’s given name, which was common in Celendor but not one she’d encountered here.

“Maybe. But they’re sixteen years dead, so it doesn’t much matter. The truth won’t bring them back.”

His skin prickled, but when he glanced down at Lydia, she was only staring at the snowy ground. Ahead of them, a narrow stream of blight crossed the path, and as she stepped over it, Lydia said, “Do you believe Malahi’s still alive?”

Lifting his gaze to the snowcapped Liratoras that formed the border between Mudamora and Derin, he said, “Yes.”

 71TERIANA

The smell of roasting meat filled her nose, and her mouth watered.

Peeling her eyelids open, Teriana focused on Marcus, who knelt next to the fire holding a green branch covered with little forms over the flames, his expression intent.

“Are those mice?” she croaked.

A slight smile rose to his lips. “Yes. Yes, they are. Want one?”

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but yes.” She shifted, trying to sit, but the motion sent slices of agony through her body, and she cried out.

“You’ve stiffened up,” he said. “It’ll ease. Let