Page 32 of The Dead Queen

“Sienna?” Hunter whispers.

In the moonlight, he looks more like my old friend again. The stress on his face melts when he spots me. He walks faster to meet me at the edge of the pond.

“I was afraid I’d never find you out here,” he says. He’s changed out of his copper and bronze armor and into a warm tunic to protect from the autumn chill, back into the casual wardrobe of a common man. The way I prefer him.

His eyes pass over my wardrobe change. A shiver runs down my spine, and I pull my cloak tighter around my body.

“Most people would hardly recognize you,” he says.

“But not you.”

“No, I could never forget your face.” He reaches out to caress my cheek with the tips of his fingers. He treats me like I’m a piece of art, fragile and precious.

For just a moment, I forget everything and everyone else. We are just two souls, learning to love each other all over again. What I wouldn’t give to go back in time, to start anew with him before the world destroyed me. Before Grandmother was murdered. Before he was trained to be my father’s copper-clad pet. Before I fled to the borderlands. Before he betrayed me and broke my heart.

But we can’t go back. Living in a fantasy won’t fix anything.

I clear my throat and turn to face the pond. Hunter drops his hand, a small sigh of disappointment escaping his lips. A muskrat stands in the shallows, watching us.

“I have to ask.” I study his face. “Did you know about Elena?”

His face stills, then falls. “Yes.” He sighs. “Everyone knows. But no one is foolish enough to say anything.”

I nod. “My father has many spies.”

“More like nobles hungry for his approval.”

“How long has she been his mistress?”

Hunter shrugs. “It’s difficult to say. My father is very discreet about organizing their … meetings.” He frowns. “She’s been wearing copper for several months now.”

“I expect I’ll have a little brother or sister soon.”

He doesn’t say anything.

I look at him from the corner of my eye. “She just seems like an odd choice. She was always so quiet when we were children. So reserved.”

“I doubt she had much say in the matter.” Hunter’s voice has an edge to it. He’s never liked his father’s many ploys to gain the king’s approval. This is just one of many. Like our impending marriage. Commander Malen will stop at nothing to ensure his place in my father’s inner circle.

We spend a long time staring out at the still pond. The quiet cemetery offers a welcomed peace. I wish I could stay here and never leave. My eyes drift to my mother’s mausoleum with the beautiful moth carvings along the doorway and I remember that, someday, I never will.

Hunter breaks the silence. “Are you still hungry?” he asks, with a note of confusion. He looks pointedly at the picnic basket.

“Oh, this.” I shake my head and hold it up. “I have a favor to ask you.”

“Another one?”

I scan his face to gauge his reaction, but there’s no malice or judgment there. Just curiosity.

“Hunter, please, you have to go back there. You have to help him.”

As a noble, Hunter has some healing powers, though they’re nothing like mine. Still, he can heal minor scrapes and bruises. He did it for me all the time when we were children. It’s better than nothing, and it might just be enough to save the Wolf from death.

Hunter winces. “I can’t do that, Sienna. Your father will notice.”

“But he’s going to die down there if we don’t do something.”

“Yes, because your father nearly killed him.” His mouth is stern. “All because someone healed him. What do you think your father will do to him this time, if someone fixes him again?” He releases a groan of frustration and runs his hands through his blond hair. “Besides, you know I can’t heal that level of injury.”