Kiva nodded, hoping the near-rambling words were innocent enough to avoid suspicion — but also that her siblings would note the hidden details she’d offered, including that she’d found a way to repress her magic and how they needed to turn down her invitation.
Jaren approached, and Kiva braced herself for his perusal of her message, but he only gave it a passing glance before saying, “You’re not using your code?”
Kiva stilled. “Sorry?”
“The note you sent your family when we left Zalindov was written in a code,” Jaren said. “I figured it was a sibling thing.”
“You’re right,” Kiva said, her voice rough. “I’ll, uh, add something at the bottom, just so they know it’s definitely from me.”
Dipping her quill again, Kiva barely kept her hand from shaking as she finished her message.
Got stuck at Bog today. Told royals I was with you. They want to meet. Don’t come.
Kiva almost underlined the final two words, but she feared that might be overkill.
“What does it say?” Naari asked, squinting at the scribbles.
“That I’m looking forward to seeing them again,” Kiva lied, folding the message and writing Torell and Zuleeka Meridan on the front, before addressing it to The Tippled Boar, Oakhollow.
Naari plucked the finished note from her hand, a hint of suspicion in her amber eyes, but since that was the guard’s natural expression, Kiva tried not to let it faze her.
“I can’t w-wait to meet your family,” Tipp said. “Mirry’s r-r-right — lunch is going to b-be fun!”
Kiva forced a smile, hoping she didn’t look as sick as she felt.
Surely Tor and Zuleeka would know better than to come.
And yet . . . as everyone slowly dispersed from her sitting room, Kiva couldn’t help fearing that curiosity alone might draw her siblings to the palace, her gut churning at the thought of what the following day would bring.
CHAPTER TWENTY
That night when Kiva settled into bed, numerous worries battled for her attention. More than anything else, she couldn’t get Caldon’s furious face out of her mind. She’d never seen him that angry, not even when she’d stabbed him.
She had to go to him, she realized, pushing back her blankets. She had to at least try to make things better. It was the only way she’d be able to soothe her twisting insides.
The problem was, Caldon didn’t sleep in the palace — he slept in the barracks.
Unable to just don a dressing gown and wander down the hall to his room, Kiva had to find a dry cloak and fasten it over her pajamas, tucking her long silk pants inside a fresh pair of boots. Her dark nightclothes were barely visible beneath her cloak, but she was careful to clasp the front tightly as she left her room and ventured downstairs and out into the night.
With the storm having cleared, there was a bite to the air that had Kiva moving swiftly along the path toward the brightly lit barracks. It was late enough that Caldon should be somewhere in the sleeping quarters, which, if she recalled correctly, were located between the mess hall and the private infirmary.
Upon arriving at the entrance, Kiva reached the doors as two guards were walking out, a man and a woman wearing polished armor and clearly on their way to begin the night shift. They looked at her with curiosity, but neither stopped her as she brushed past. Because of that, she turned and asked, “Excuse me, can you tell me where I can find Cal — er, Prince Caldon?”
The female guard arched an eyebrow, and Kiva cursed inwardly, realizing how her presence there — in the middle of the night — could be construed. She tightened her fingers around her cloak and kept her head high, willing the blush away from her cheeks.
The male guard — someone Kiva recognized from the training yard — didn’t bat an eyelash, so she hoped that meant he’d keep his companion from spreading any uncomfortable rumors.
“The prince has a private room,” the man answered, before offering quick directions.
Kiva thanked him and continued inside the building. While curious, she didn’t pause to tour the infirmary, nor did she linger at the multiple doorways she passed, many of which she assumed led to private quarters and meeting rooms, and others to dormitories where the lower-ranked guards bunked together.
As Kiva approached Caldon’s room, nerves fluttered within her. She halted outside his door, staring at the wood and summoning her courage before knocking quietly. When no answer came, she frowned and knocked again, louder.
For one embarrassing moment, Kiva wondered if Caldon had company — the kind he wouldn’t want interrupted. Grimacing, she started backing away, but then the door opened, revealing the prince in sleep trousers and a rumpled, unbuttoned shirt. His hair was tousled and his eyes were squinting into the brighter light of the hallway, indicating he’d just been rudely awoken.