Rebel's Blade (The Aermian Feuds Book 1) Page 29

  “Is it done?” he asked in a low tone.

  “Yes.” Simple. To the point. It was done, though not what he expected. However, there was finality in her actions; what she had done could not be reversed.

  Rafe turned and stared at her profile. She stood still trying not to fidget. She hoped he couldn’t read on her face what she had done. What was he looking for? How was she supposed to act after killing someone? Sage decided numb seemed like a good place to start so she tried to emulate it.

  “How are you?”

  She kept her face expressionless, but inside she raged.

  How was she?

  Really?

  He wanted to know how she was after stealing an innocent man’s life? What an inconsiderate and stupid question.

  She twisted her neck and stared at him. “I feel nothing.”

  “Oh, little one. I wish I could take this burden from you.” Rafe reached out and cupped her face with one hand. She almost flinched but stayed still. His amber eyes filled with anguish at her expression, and he pulled her into his arms.

  She held herself stiff and kept focused on the dancing flames. “How soon are we to leave?” she asked flatly.

  Rafe’s hands continued to rub tiny circles on her lower back. “I have a messenger delivering a missive in a couple hours that will imply I need to return to my kingdom immediately.” His hands slowly skated up her back to her shoulders.

  Her eyes flew to his when he caressed the nape of her neck. His eyes probed her like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. The color of his eyes still startled her sometimes, like tonight. The amber almost glowed in the firelight. His thumbs rubbed across her collarbones, sending goosebumps along her arms. She pretended she didn’t notice his attention tracking the little bumps.

  “You looked ethereal tonight. I couldn’t have imagined something more beautiful, even had I tried. It was like the sea had conjured you to tempt me to her depths. You caught the eyes of most of the men tonight.”

  “Wasn’t that the idea?”

  Rafe chuckled darkly. “That was the general idea, right up until I saw the way you looked when you took off your cloak. I thought by the end of tonight that I might have to fight off those princes and the older man at the end of the table.” He smiled at her, smug. “But they all knew you were mine. No one would take a Methian prince’s woman.”

  Now that got a reaction out of her. Her eyes jolted to his, her eyebrows creasing. “You played your part well, possessive lover and all. But Lady Salbei isn’t yours because she doesn’t exist, and as you know, I belong to no one.” Sage brushed his hands off her and began to walk away.

  “What did the crown prince say to you?”

  Sage halted and squinted at him over her shoulder. “I only spoke with him at the table. What are you talking about?”

  “He said he would find you and apologize for what happened at dinner.”

  Sage feigned surprise. “Well, he never found me.” Rafe nodded, believing her lie. “I am tired. Wake me when we are to leave.”

  * * *

  When the missive came, leaving was easier than she expected. They made their apologies to some of the advisers and to Gavriel. He kept casting looks at her that reeked of betrayal, and it ate at her heart. Rafe said their goodbyes and hastily moved her to their carriage but Sage looked over her shoulder and caught Gav’s eyes. Just before disappearing into the dark carriage she looked at him directly, mouthing, Forgive me, brother.

  The returning ride was the same as their initial departure. They rode far into the country, switched carriages and began their ride back to the city. She stared at the moonlit grasses, moving like ocean waves in the gentle breeze. “Where is the other carriage going?” she questioned.

  “It will pick up the real prince and take him back to Methi where he won’t remember a thing.”

  She ignored Rafe the rest of the ride and pondered the choices she had made since she joined the rebellion. Whether right or wrong, she had certainly grown wiser because of it.

  Before she knew it, they were in front of her home. She straightened her cowl and peered at Rafe from underneath it, her eyes straining to pick him out in the dark. Sage reached across the gap between them and grasped his hand.

  “Thank you for the training you gave me. I will always be thankful for what you taught me but this is the last time you we’ll see each other. I am done, Rafe.”

  “You’re sure this is what you want, little one?” His face was grim.

  “Yes.” Her tone brooked no argument.

  He caressed her palm and his hood dipped. “If that is what you want, then fine. But this won’t be the last time I see you.”

  Sage stared him down. “Yes. It will,” she said sternly. “Any association with you puts my family in danger. I am not willing to risk it anymore. That’s what I mean when I say we are done.”

  His betrayal had cut her deeply. She would never let someone use her to hurt someone else. She swallowed thickly and let loose the words he needed to hear. “I thought you were my friend, Rafe. But friends don’t send their loved one back into a hell from which they escaped, nor do they sanction murder for the greater good. They don’t send people to torture them and then protect the wrong doers.”

  Rafe growled.

  Sage held up a hand. “I am done.” She stood up and tipped back his hood, exposing his magnetic eyes. She kissed his scar and whispered a farewell against his cheek before leaving him to the darkness.

  Thirty-Five

  TEHL

  Tehl tried to work out the kink in his shoulder, slowly rotating it in a wide arch. The last day of the festival was a far cry from what he’d planned for. He hadn’t slept at all the previous night.

  Why was it so much harder to stage an attempted poisoning and subsequent rescue than to actually poison someone and then rescue them?

  Despite all the revelry followed by hard work and the plotting the night before, he had responsibilities to take care of so he couldn’t let his exhaustion keep him from them. He rubbed at his shoulder, thinking of the new developments this morning. The Methian prince and the mysterious Sai had crossed the border into their own kingdom early this morning, and Tehl still didn’t know what to think about it. She’d slipped through their fingers yet again. Although she’d made the right choice last night, she still was no friend of the Crown. She was still a traitor. There were just too many questions surrounding the entire situation. Reaching any concrete conclusions was difficult with the little information they had, and trying to piece it together was already giving him a headache. Sam was the spy, not him.

  “Getting old brother?” Sam’s words interrupted his thoughts.

  Speak of the devil and he will find you. Tehl spun to his brother as he stretched his shoulder once more. “Not any more so than you. Didn’t I just hear you complaining in the ring? Something about needing beauty sleep?” Tehl quipped.

  Sam shrugged, sending him an unrepentant grin. He ran a hand through his blond curls. “I understand you have a busy day before you, but I need to pick up my armor this morning, and I thought perhaps you’d like to join me?”

  He couldn’t remember the last time he wandered the city with his brother, not for any duty but just for the pure joy of it. A boyish smile formed as he contemplated the idea, and Sam’s smile mirrored Tehl’s once he agreed. His brother gestured to a cloak lying on the fence encompassing the training ground.

  “Prepared, were we?” Tehl joked, retrieving the items.

  “Hopeful. And, of course, always prepared,” came Sam’s glib reply.

  They both slid their hoods up and snuck out of the courtyard, entering Sanee. For a while, they wandered around, without real purpose, picking up smoked fish here and a pastry there. It was relaxing for Tehl to simply be, to enjoy the moment of complete freedom with his brother. They stopped by a seamstress, picking up some new linen shirts, and then went to a cobbler for new boots. They found new tack for Sam’s horse as well as other random things that int
erested them. Tehl also enjoyed watching Sam interact with people, smiling and laughing, asking after their children and grandchildren.

  As they left the last little shop Tehl studied his brother. “I’ve enjoyed this, but I have to ask, why are we making these purchases in Sanee when we employ people at the palace to do all of these things?”

  Sam shrugged and looked down the lane. “True, but these people need it more.”

  That struck Tehl.

  He had always been proud of his brother but never before seen the true depths of his generosity and foresight. Samuel cared for the people as much as he did. “How long have you been doing this?”

  “Since I was a boy, probably around sixteen, so maybe nine years. Mum always said to help when we saw a need. At first, I tried to give them money, but they would often donate it to the poor, despite needing it themselves.” Sam shrugged. “So I came up with another idea. They wouldn’t turn down work, so I began commissioning the things I needed from them.”

  “Do they know who you are?”

  “No, just a wealthy nobleman. The people around the fishing district rarely mingle with those living near the castle. It’s been easy to keep my identity a secret.”

  Tehl liked the idea. “I might follow your example.”

  Sam smiled. “It only makes sense that you, like everyone else, would want to imitate me.”

  He rolled his eyes at the cocky reply and gave his brother’s shoulder a shove. “Do you have everything you need?”

  “One more stop, and then we can head home. I commissioned a sword.” Sam’s eyes widened with excitement. “I am close with the family that runs the forge. Years ago, I actually ran around with the smith’s sons causing mischief until they began to work on merchant ships.”

  Only his brother would have a secret identity and secret set of friends. “Will we meet them today?”

  Sam shook his head. “No they’ll be working, but you’ll get to meet Colm, their father.”

  His brother led him down a couple dirt lanes to a forge at the edge of the city where they entered a storefront. Inside, a middle-aged man was cleaning blades and displaying them. Sam greeted the older man with a hug and began chatting.

  Tehl glanced around at the odd collection of things: axles for wagons, horseshoes, and axes interspersed with short blades, and swords of various lengths and styles. His brother’s yip of excitement peaked his curiosity. He abandoned the daggers he’d been examining and moved to Sam’s side.

  The older man held out a broadsword that awed Tehl in its beauty. The magnificent blade had been crafted with Aermia’s symbol perched on its hilt. The fierce black dragon draped itself around it, sapphires glittered for its eyes and the scales shone like obsidian. Tehl leaned closer.

  Black seed pearls, how clever.

  Sam reverently took the sword and placed two fingers underneath the hilt to test it. The balance was perfect.

  Sam handed it to him, smiling giddily. “She is one of a kind, is she not?” his brother asked, his blue eyes gleaming. “Colm, you’ve outdone yourself.”

  Tehl gently touched his finger to the edge and a drop of blood welled instantly. Tehl grinned at the smith. “I suddenly find myself in need of a sword as well.”

  “Thank you.” The smith held his hand out. “The name’s Colm Blackwell. Any friend of Sam’s is welcome here.”

  “I’m his brother,” Tehl tipped his head toward Sam.

  The smith smiled. “So you’re the illusive brother, the one with the ‘serious side’.”

  Tehl shrugged, his lips tipping up.

  “Sam, would you like this wrapped?” Colm held his hand out for the sword. Tehl placed the stunning sword in the man’s hands.

  “Yes, please. And I have to say. I’ve seen your work over the years but this is truly something else. The craftsmanship, the attention to detail, and the artistry are each remarkable. The dragon looks so lifelike I feel like he might fly away any moment,” Sam flattered.

  Tehl smiled at the older man and gave him a nod of respect. “Your craftsmanship is unique. I have seen nothing like it. You do your trade proud.”

  Colm paused and studied them thoughtfully. “I’ve known you a long time Sam so humor me for a moment. What is your opinion on women working in a trade?”

  Sam’s brows furrowed for a moment before clearing as he seemed to reach some understanding. “If they can accomplish the task, why should they not be able to do what they want?”

  Tehl contemplated the cogs working in Sam’s brain and tried to identify the reason for the change in subject.

  The swordsmith turned his attention on him. “And what of you?”

  Tehl cocked his head, wondering what the man was getting at, but answered anyway. “Women are the stronger of the two sexes. They give life and deal with us on a daily basis.”

  Colm laughed at that for a moment before sobering. “Sam, I am sure the boys have told you that Sage helps me in the forge.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Well, in reality, she does more that assist me. I cannot take credit for your sword,” he said in a low tone. “My daughter created it.”

  Tehl looked at the man and then to his brother. Sam blinked a couple of times, then a slow smile bloomed on his face. “Is Sage here? After all these years, I still haven’t met her. Are you hiding her or something?”

  The swordsmith smirked. “Any man who knew you would hide their daughter.”

  Sam chuckled but didn’t deny it. “Why keep her talents a secret though?”

  “Most men think their sword will be defective, weak, or worthless if crafted by a woman.” Colm’s face hardened.

  “What rubbish,” Sam added.

  “Damn straight. She is the best swordsmith in all Aermia. We receive commissions from all over and great swordsmen now wield some of the best blades, all made by a woman.”

  “Can we meet her? I would love to pay my compliments to her in person, and of course, satisfy my curiosity.”

  Colm grinned at that. “You have an overabundance of curiosity. Sage,” he hollered. “Would you please come help me for a moment?”

  “Mmhmmm…” a feminine voice sounded from the back.

  Tehl and Sam’s attention focused on the light steps heading their way. The curtain pulled back, announcing a curvy brunette’s entrance. Her head was down as she brushed her skirt off.

  “What did you need, Papa—” Her question cut off when she looked up, eyes locking with Tehl.

  Bright green eyes.

  The rebel.

  She was right under their noses the whole time.

  Finally, a true name. Not the rebel, Ruby, Lady Salbei, or the mysterious Sai.

  Sage.

  It fitted her.

  Tehl stepped next to Sam as they both stared her down.

  “Why hello, Sage,” Sam purred.

  To be continued…

  In Book 2 of the Aermian Feuds, Crown’s Shield

  Crown’s Shield

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  Frost is a lover of all thing book. She frequently imagines stories while she is baking, so there’s always a surplus of goodies to be found in her home.
Her love of the written word started from an early age because of her mama’s passion for reading. Not one day passed without stories. Frost frequently geeks out over her favorite authors and is prone to fangirling. She has a penchant for red lipstick, and a not so secret love of sour skittles. She lives with her four hellions in Southern Idaho.

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  Acknowledgments

  Stars above, Rebel’s Blade has been an incredible journey.

  There are so many elements to indie publishing. I always thought a novel was born a big beautiful piece of art. Let me be the first to tell you, it’s not. Only with the helping hands of many others does a story become a master piece.

  To my friends. You guys rock! Thanks for putting up with my bookish self, and for bringing the wine…mostly for the wine. Lol.

  To my lovely author friends. I wouldn’t have survived without you. Your advice, willingness to answer my million and one questions, and encouragement when I felt like throwing my laptop against the wall, meant the world.

  To my BDWAB peeps. Girls, you know who you are. Y’all have pushed, supported, and given me love when I was down, thank you. Lots of love.

  To my Betas. Wow, just wow. You gave Rebel’s Blade your valuable time and honesty, which is harder than you’d expect. Thank you. You’re worth your weight in gold.

  To my Editor, Ashley. You are one of a kind. Thank you for the late nights, your valuable insight, and again, your honesty. A book is only as good as is edits in my opinion. You helped turn my idea into something special. Love you sister from another mother.

  To my cover designer, Amy. You are the best. Enough said.