Free The Girl of Fire and Thorns by Rae Carson Page B

known Alejandro long, but he does not seem one for idle conversation. To fill the space, I say, “He spoke highly of you.” It’s not the exact truth, but it seems appropriate.
    “He speaks highly of you also.”
    “Oh?” I hope the dim candlelight hides my blush.
    “Indeed. He says you’ve got steel in you, that you are wise beyond your years. He wouldn’t say more, which is odd because, as I’ve said, we’re very close.” It bothers him that Hector would keep something from him. And it bothers me to see how deeply aware of my “years” Alejandro is.
    “I have no idea what he means,” I lie. Lord Hector watched me intervene on Father Nicandro’s behalf. I don’t know why the guard chose not to relate the incident to Alejandro, but I don’t mind having this harmless secret together.
    Alejandro shrugs and looks away, and I find the gesture so vulnerable, so endearing, that I almost blurt the day’s events. I wish he would sit next to me on the bed. I imagine what it would be like to feel his cheek against mine, my fingers in his hair.
    Finally he says, “I need your help, Elisa.”
    “My help?”
    “Please. I’m leaving tomorrow for Puerto Verde, to visit my mother and retrieve my son. He’s been fostering there the last three years.”
    “Oh.” I look down to hide my disappointment. “How long will you be gone?”
    “A month.”
    A whole month! I’m proud of the evenness in my voice when I say, “And how do you want me to help?”
    He grabs one of my new chairs and swings a long leg around to straddle it backward. His arms hug the chair back, and he cocks his head. “Yours is the newest presence in Brisadulce, and a royal one, no less. While I’m gone, some of the others will approach you to take your measure. Maybe to see how useful or important you can be to them.”
    I nod along with him. I understand these subtle battles, this understated leveraging for power. I’ve observed it my whole life, my response always one of stunning disinterest. At home, Juana-Alodia is the virtuoso, and Orovalle’s nobleza d’oro dances enthralled by her melody.
    “You can help me so much, Elisa,” he continues. “Just by paying attention. Write it down if you must. Write down who seeks you out, what they offer, anything you think may be important. And then, when I return . . .”
    He wants a spy in his own household. Perhaps he worries that some in his court are preparing to move against him. Or maybe, like Alodia, he simply uses every available pawn to play the game. They would have been well matched, my husband and my sister.
    He takes my silence for hesitation. His gaze is unwavering as he rises from the chair and approaches my bed. “Please, Elisa,” he whispers.
    My heart pounds in my throat as he takes my hand. It’s shapeless against his straight, strong fingers. But he leans closer, and I smell the spicy wildness of him.
    “This is what we discussed,” he whispers. “That night. When I said I could use a friend.”
    Our wedding night. Why can’t he say it? But I nod anyway. I’d agree to anything, with his lips so near mine.
    He leans back, the intensity gone, replaced by that easy, boyish grin. Now that he no longer hovers next to me, my mind begins to clear.
    “The door you came through. Where does it lead?”
    If he is taken aback by the change in subject, he does not show it. “My suite. It attaches to this one, of course.”
    Of course. These rooms must have belonged to Queen Rosaura. He has given me that, at least.
    “You will bring the prince back with you, then?”
    “Oh, yes! He’s a bright boy. Already a skilled horseman. I’d like very much for you to meet him.”
    “I’d like that too.” But it’s not true. I feel even less ready to be a mother than a wife.
    He turns to go. Once in the doorway that connects our suites, he glances over his shoulder and says, “Lord Hector was right. There’s steel in you.”
    The days following Alejandro’s departure pass