Page 6 of North Queen
He looked at the blade and then back up at her. “Don’t you recognize me? It’s me, Alexander.” His eyes held the glint of a tear. “Norah, it’s me.”
No recollection came as she studied him. She had no memory of his face, his concerned brow, his eyes. No memory of his name. Yet he seemed to know her…
Relief flooded her, but she clutched it back. She wasn’t having the best of luck in meeting trustworthy strangers in the forest. He held his hand up in pause, then slid his sword back into its scabbard without taking his eyes off her. She softened her stance but didn’t lower the blade. A handsome face didn’t make one trustworthy.
“You know who I am?” she asked, still guarded.
“Of course,” he said with a broken breath. “I’d know you anywhere.”
“And who am I, exactly?” If he called her a witch, she’d stab him.
His brows drew together. “You don’t know?”
If she knew, she wouldn’t be asking, but she bit back the snap of words on her tongue. Emotion glazed his face, bringing a stir of her own. Her heart raced as she shook her head.
He hesitated but then asked, “And you don’t know who I am?” His voice came even softer.
She shook her head again. “No.”
He winced and then looked to the ground for a moment. Then he swallowed.
“Who am I?” she pressed.
His eyes found hers again, and they burned a brilliant blue. “You’re Norah Andell… of Mercia, the Northern Kingdom.”
Norah Andell. A name strangely familiar to her, yet not. Slowly, she lowered the dagger.
“I’ve been searching for you.” He gazed down at her hands, and his brow creased. “You’re bleeding. Are you hurt?”
Chained in her bewilderment, she didn’t move as he swept forward and took her hands in his, but his touch made her jump. “Um, no,” she said, pulling away. “It’s not mine.” He was so close to her now. Dangerously close. But he didn’t feel dangerous. He felt safe, and…
No. She didn’t know this man. Then something caught her eye. The breastplate of his armor bore a raised emblem—a winterhawk—the same as the pendant around her neck. She reached up to her chest and clasped her fingers around it. “Who are you?”
His brow dipped. He paused before saying, “I’m Alexander Rhemus, lord justice to the queen regent. Norah, she’s been waiting for your return. We all have.”
That didn’t make sense. “The queen regent? Why?” Why would a queen regent be waiting for her?
“Because you’re her granddaughter.”
Her pulse quickened. Her granddaughter? She shook her head. “No, that can’t be right.” A granddaughter of a queen wouldn’t be wandering alone in a forest. “That can’t be right,” she said again.
“I tell you the truth, but, Norah”—he glanced around them—“we should go. I can explain everything on the way, but right now, we need to get out of the Wild.”
She took a step back. She wasn’t going anywhere with him. Not yet. “How did I get here?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Then how did you know where I was?”
“I didn’t, exactly,” he answered with a tilt of his head. “I’ve been searching for what I saw in a vision.”
She raised a brow. “You saw a vision, and you just got on a horse and came to find me in the middle of a forest?” No rational person would do that.
“Not just any forest—the Wild. But yes.”
She didn’t know what that meant, but that was the least of what she needed answered. “That’s madness.”
“But… you’re here,” he countered. “And we really do need to go. It’s not safe here.”
