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

Killian clenched his teeth against the chill of the water, then dunked his head under before setting to ridding himself of the grime he’d accumulated, the circulating water whisking away the clouds of dirt and sweat and blood. He cast a sideways glance at Finn, ensuring his newly minted squire was doing the same, and the sight of the boy with his curly hair frothed white with soap foam almost made him laugh.

Almost.

“Rotahn is a nice place,” Finn commented, then snarled a string of curses he’d probably learned from Sonia as his soap slipped from his grip, floating to the bottom of the pool. When he emerged with it once again in hand, he added, “How long are we staying?”

“We’ll leave in the morning.” Killian tossed his cloth and soap on the edge of the pool, and a young attendant scurried forward to replace them with a chilled glass of wine, which Killian drained. The attendant swiftly returned with another, which Killian drank as well. He’d need the whole damned bottle to survive the night here.

“Why so soon?” Finn motioned to the attendant. “I’ll have some of that. Where’s it from? I’ve a taste for good vintage.”

“He’ll have water,” Killian corrected. “Or juice.”

“Juice? Why?”

“Because you’re only fourteen years old,” Killian answered, having finally gotten the true number from his young friend on their journey south. “And because you need a level head. And because I said so.”

Finn glowered, accepting the cup of juice from the attendant, who also brought Killian another glass of wine. He drank that one, too, exhaling as it finally started to take effect, a buzzing heat filling his veins. “We’re here to put an end to the Anuk raids, Finn. Not to laze about in luxury.”

“You just don’t appreciate it,” Finn muttered, and Killian faintly picked up his added mutter of, “Entitled fancy-pants lord that you are.”

“Don’t forget to wash behind your ears,” Killian said, then dodged the bar of soap Finn tossed straight at his head.

Turning his back on his friend, Killian rested his forearms on the edge of the pool, staring at a potted plant but not really seeing it. Being here made him think of Malahi. Made him wonder if her body had been found. Whether it ever would be.

“Killian,” Finn whispered, pulling him from his thoughts. “Killian!”

Turning, he said, “What?”

Finn’s eyes were wide. “There’s women around the corner. I can hear them talking.”

The pool was U-shaped, one end for women and one for men, though Killian had heard it was common for both to meet in the middle. “What of it?”

Finn glanced over his shoulder to ensure the attendant wasn’t within earshot, then whispered, “I bet they’re not wearing clothes.”

“It is common practice to remove them while bathing,” he responded, pretending not to see where Finn was going with this. His interest in girls had grown, and he’d subjected Killian to endless speculation and commentary during their travels. Only Sonia threatening to drown him in a pond had silenced him on the issue.

“We could go over there,” Finn whispered. “If we keep low, they won’t notice us.”

Killian lifted one eyebrow. “You do know that Sonia is over there with them.”

“Oh. Right.” Finn made a face. “Probably not a good idea, then. She’s not interested in men.”

“What she’s not interested in is skinny little shits who try to peep at her while she’s bathing.”

“You could go over there. I bet they wouldn’t mind that at all.”

Snorting, Killian shook his head. “Probably. But the reason I can go over there is because they know that I won’t.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Put your head to the task of figuring it out and drink your juice. I’m trying to relax.”

Ignoring Finn’s affronted glower, he sipped at yet another glass of wine. Now that he was paying attention, he could make out the sound of Sonia’s voice, along with several others, including Ria’s.

“I’m bored,” Finn said. “I’m going to go see what that thief did with my clothes.”

“Don’t wander,” Killian muttered, then pushed away from the wall, swimming slowly toward the far end. Once there, he rested his arms on the edge, watching the sunlight and gardens, his mind drifting to Lydia.

I choose this.

Her voice floated through his thoughts, and he closed his eyes, the vision of the last time he’d seen her filling his mind. How the wind had caught at the loose strands of her hair, whipping them around her beautiful face, those upturned green eyes seeming to see into his soul. He’d have done anything she’d asked in that moment, but what she’d asked was for him to let her go.

Why didn’t she choose me? As soon as the thought voiced itself, he shoved it away, annoyed with himself because the answers were clear. Choosing him would’ve meant him fighting his own people to get her away from Quindor. Them running away and abandoning Mudamora. And neither of them would’ve been happy with that life, which would eventually mean neither of them would be happy with each other.

“And keep in mind you didn’t choose her, either,” he muttered to himself. “You chose Mudamora.”

It didn’t make him feel any better.

“Get your head together,” he growled at himself. “Serrick didn’t send you here to fret about girls, he sent you here to deal with the Anuk.”

Except Anuk raiders and Rowenes gold mines seemed distant concerns, his mess of a mind refusing to focus on armies and strategies and instead leaping back to that kiss.

How was it that it wasn’t the pain of having a spear wrenched from his side that he remembered, but the soft press of her lips against his? The feel of her hair falling against his face as she gave up her strength to save his life?

You could get to Mudaire in a week if you switched horses often enough.

It wasn’t the first time that thought had entered his head. That it would be an easy thing for him to go to the city to see her.

And then what?

His imagination was all too