Free Allegiance by Cayla Kluver Page A

make a comforting fire. There wasn’t much room in our refuge, just enough for two people, but I didn’t mind, for the fire’s light and pleasant warmth were captured within the cozy space.
    London and I now sat opposite each other, the flickering flames reflected in his keen eyes, and I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders as though to ward off the questions I knew were forthcoming.
    â€œDo you want to tell me what you’re doing out here?” he finally asked, his tone gentle, as if he were worried that he might frighten me.
    â€œI walked,” I croaked, my words catching in my dry throat.
    He stood to retrieve a flask from his saddlebag and tossed it to me. I caught it and took a drink, then scrunched up my nose at the taste of the liquid.
    â€œIt’s wine,” he said, catching my expression. “It will revive you and ease your soreness.”
    I nodded and took another sip, watching him return to his position across the fire from me. He waited until I had drunk a bit more, then pressed for additional information.
    â€œYou walked? From where?”
    â€œFrom where Steldor took my horse.”
    Though I had slept some in Koranis’s home and had drifted in and out of awareness while we had been riding, I still had little energy to devote to speech. London frowned in confusion.
    â€œWhere are your guards?”
    â€œI didn’t take any.”
    â€œWere you and Steldor out riding together?” he persisted, disapproval creeping into his voice.
    â€œNo,” I responded, beginning to realize that Steldor was not the only one at fault for my predicament. “I left by myself and he came after me.”
    â€œAnd he took your horse.”
    â€œI didn’t want to go back, and he got angry with me,” I said woefully, wanting the Elite Guard to sympathize and lay the blame on Steldor. He did not.
    â€œAnd why did you leave the palace in the first place?”
    I hung my head, unable to meet London’s eyes, and hoping against hope that he wouldn’t come to the answer on his own. There was a silence, and I could feel him studying me.
    â€œI understand what this is about,” he finally scoffed.
    I glanced up to see that he had risen to his feet, too irritated to remain in place.
    â€œYou left the palace because of some ridiculous notion that Narian might be at his father’s estate.”
    I averted my gaze, making no attempt to deny his assertion, and he shook his head in exasperation.
    â€œDidn’t it occur to you that I would already have searched there? Your longing to find Narian could have gotten you killed! You know better than this, Alera. You’ve had a bodyguard your entire life. How could you have left without one?”
    He ran his hand through his silver hair, and I wasn’t entirely certain his next question was directed at me.
    â€œHow can we end up with the Queen, on her own, in the woods, cold, hungry, scared, with no protection, and only the river separating her from the Cokyrians?”
    He laughed, albeit mirthlessly, and I cringed. I had been holding Steldor responsible, but, in retrospect, I had behaved just as rashly as had he. I felt foolish and embarrassed at having assumed I would not be in harm’s way. Was I really sodesperately naïve? Or was London exaggerating the danger to make an impression on me?
    London walked partway around the fire and stopped, his arms crossed over his chest, decidedly displeased. As if he had read my mind, he began to answer my questions.
    â€œDo you have any idea how lucky you are that I found you? Most soldiers wouldn’t have given you ten seconds—they would have slit your throat without hesitation. And do you honestly believe that while you were sitting on those boulders observing the enemy that they couldn’t also see you? Any of their archers could have pierced you through the heart where you sat. Or the Cokyrians could have sent someone to find