Page 77 of The Shrouded Queen
He shook his head. “A few weeks after I got my runes, she went back into the Shroud. It had gotten into her. She said she… belonged to it.”
For a brief moment, compassion for Rade overshadowed my fear.
“Keir’s aunt Katla raised me after that. They’re the only family I have.” Rade blinked several times, like he was clearing away cobwebs, and faced me again. “I don’t know why you had such a strong reaction to the runes when you’re nearly twenty, but I can sympathize. You’re in pain right now, but it will pass. I promise.”
In fact, I was twenty-two, which just made my reaction all the stranger. But maybe the rules about age only applied to Kaldfolk. They were born with wild magic in their blood. Maybe my reaction was normal for an Ashoran.
“And the green?” I asked again.
“That’s probably because you’re a Gods-Chosen,” he said with a soft smile. “But I’ll check some of the old texts, just to be sure.”
Obviously, that wasn’t it. Amunet was a Gods-Chosen, not me. There was something else, and some instinct told me it had to do with that shadow creature. By Zarqa’s reaction, I knew that hadn’t been normal. Had the shadow creature messed up the ritual somehow? Confused the magic so that instead of black I was left with some indecipherable green? And the way Keir had smelled my runes… Did he know what had gone wrong?
Rade gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “You will be all right, Amunet.”
I looked up at the king, at his warm eyes and gentle smile that put me at ease almost instantly. He’d gotten his runes at twelve. I wondered what it must be like to have a mother abandon him for the Shroud. Rade did not seem bitter. He was friendly and kind.
Amunet had received marriage proposals from everyone with even a hint of royal blood in their veins, from jinn-descended princes to no-name emissaries. Some even came to Khada Palace to try to woo her in person. I’d always observed them to be unpleasant. Greedy or lecherous or plain cruel. I couldn’t help but think that if my queen had to marry, she would be relieved to marry someone as nice as Rade.
“You’re not what I expected,” I confessed.
The king blew out an amused breath. “Neither are you, Amunet Khada.” His fingers stroked along my palm, feeling the calluses there. “You never told me what weapon you trained with.”
I could see Amunet clearly in my mind, sweaty and exhausted from training with the Khada Guard. She’d return to her room in a huff and toss the curved battle-axe—the khopesh—on the floor before flopping onto her bed, cursing the king for making her go.
“A khopesh,” I answered.
Rade whistled low. “Only my Shifters are skilled enough to handle that sort of weapon.”
I prayed he wouldn’t ask me to demonstrate. “I never said I was skilled.”
Rade laughed.
My own lips pulled up in a smile.
The door crashed open, and Keir stormed in, rage practically pouring off him. My smile slipped. He slammed a bowl of broth onto the end table beside me, some of it sloshing over the edge. Then he faced Rade. “Now that I’ve been a good errand boy, can we speak?”
Rade’s eyes flashed, but he offered me another smile. “Rest,” he said, giving my hand a squeeze, before he followed Keir out of the room.
I waited for that second click. My door hadn’t been locked in days, but I listened just in case. As expected, it didn’t come.
Good. Because Keir knew something about these inexplicable runes, and I needed to know what it was.
Which meant I had to follow them.
THIRTY-ONESAMIRA
I wrenched open the door to my cabin. Cold air hit my face instantly, making my already unsteady legs tremble harder, but I wrapped my cloak tighter around my shoulders and steeled myself.
I’d served Amunet in the midst of fever. I’d served her with lashes on my back, with a brand over my heart. I could get out of this damn room on sore legs.
Gripping the threshold hard enough to leave nail marks in the wood, I stepped outside.
The longhouse loomed a few yards away, unlit torches marking the path. I balanced against one as I caught my breath. Then lurched for the next one. Leapfrogging from torch to torch.
I paused at the longhouse’s large double doors and peered in.
Velka was inside, talking to Sillia and Cano, gesturing vaguely around the space as she gave orders. I heard her mention Aurel, the man newly in charge of the smokehouse. They must be discussing food for the Lunar Feast. Then Velka turned and led them through a side door.
