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

Except, perhaps, for one.

The thought burned in her mind as they traveled south, each passing day growing warmer even as it brought them closer to Celendrial. Closer to the moment when Marcus would once again be a legionnaire. To the moment he’d again be the Empire’s tool for conquering the West. To the moment when they’d part ways and she and her freed people would join the armies of the West in the fight against the Cel incursion.

To the moment he’d cease to be the young man she loved and once again be the enemy she needed to defeat.

“The Savio,” Marcus said, rather unnecessarily, as they stopped next to a wide river. “We’ll travel west along it until we reach a village, then we should be able to buy a boat that will take us the rest of the journey.”

Sliding down the bank, Teriana pulled off her coat and stuck her hands in the cold water, relishing the feel of it running over her skin. The weather had improved with each passing day, and it was warm enough for a bath to be possible without risk of freezing to death. Especially given that this far upstream, the Savio was clean enough that she could see the rocks under its swift running surface, though it would grow fouler the closer they got to the ocean.

Closing her eyes, she imagined she could feel the strength of the sea reaching out to her, calling her home. It had been months since she’d stood on a beach. Longer still since she’d stood on the deck of a ship, and though a riverboat was a far cry from the Quincense, she rose and eagerly started downstream.

It didn’t take long to find one of the countless small settlements that made their living off the river. “Circle round and wait downstream,” Marcus said. “We can only assume that Cassius is still capturing any Maarin he can, and now that we are in Celendor itself, we shouldn’t risk anyone getting close enough to see your eyes.”

Grimacing, she nodded. And after giving him a list of supplies, she circled round the town and sat down on the bank to wait.

Perhaps an hour later, Marcus drifted downstream toward her, awkwardly steering a riverboat that had seen many years and looked ready to retire on the bottom of the river.

“Nice boat,” she said, wading out and then pulling herself aboard. “I hope it was free.”

“Was all I could afford after buying your supplies,” he countered, handing her a package. “So don’t complain.”

Taking hold of the rudder, she waited as the current took hold of them before easing toward the center of the Savio.

A temperate wind caught at her hair, sending her ragged braids streaming out behind her as they sped downstream. Only once she’d had her fill at the helm did she say, “Think you can manage this without crashing us for a few hours?”

Turning from his contemplation of the passing landscape, Marcus shrugged, then walked carefully to where she stood, taking the rudder. After giving him a few instructions, she retrieved the package of supplies he’d purchased. Then, sitting with her legs crossed, she went to work on unraveling her hair.

It wasn’t a task she ever did herself. Only her aunt Yedda touched her hair, and that was one of the reasons she’d delayed removing the braids for as long as she had. Because it would be like giving up the last thing she had of her family. Except not only were they grown out and fuzzy and unraveling in several places, it wouldn’t be long until she was reunited with the Quincense and her crew. And she knew that if her aunt saw the current state of Teriana’s hair that she’d never hear the end of it.

It was arduous work, and her back and neck and arms ached by the time she finished unbraiding. Her muscles protested as she set to combing out the handfuls of hair that had come loose, tossing it into the river to float away. She could feel Marcus’s eyes on her as she worked, and as always, she had to fight the desire to go to him. To wrap her arms around his neck and lose herself in the pleasure of his touch, because it was the only time she could forget that they were racing toward the moment they’d part ways forever.

Her eyes burned at the thought, and she rubbed at them furiously before filling a bucket with river water and setting to the task of washing her hair with soap that smelled like lavender, then massaging its length with oil that smelled of the same. Rebraiding it herself wasn’t a remote possibility, so instead, she wrapped it tight to her head with the scarf of indigo cotton that Marcus had selected, hoping it would serve to keep her hair out of her face until her aunt could set her to rights.

“You look like your mother.”

She jumped at Marcus’s voice. They often went a long time without talking, but the silences were easy and comfortable. Made more so by the fact neither of them went long without touching each other, the brush of his hand against hers as they walked never failing to make her heart skip, then race, always, always wanting more.

I don’t want to give you up.

“You’ll see her soon,” he added. “And the rest of your people.”

She’d been separated from them for so long … “If she even wants to see me. Not sure if you recall, but she wasn’t overly pleased at some of the decisions I made.”

“I remember.”

Chewing on the insides of her cheeks, she said, “When you told me I’d lost my chance to see her the morning we left, I wanted to kick you in the balls I hated you so much. But that wasn’t the reason, was it? She told you she didn’t want