The Winter Charlatan by Victoria McCombs

Author:Victoria McCombs [Severson, Victoria]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Victoria McCombs

Chapter Twenty-One

BEFORE THE SUN SPRANG over the mountain tops, I snuck out of bed for the eighth day in a row and crept down to the training arena where I waited to see if General Barrett came. Right as the first morning rays hit the rocks, he strode into the arena with his sword in hand. My feet were reluctant to move away. I swore I’d learned as much from watching him train as Gen could teach me in months.

But today called for a new task.

Today I was brave enough to go for it. I’d sneak into General Barrett’s room.

Quiet as a snowflake, I retreated, only breathing when I reentered the castle, where I hurried to Tarion’s chambers.

I knocked. My head stayed low within my hood to minimize the wandering maids who might see me and spread gossip about the emissary who visited the prince’s room at the early hours of the morning. Maids weren’t the only ones I had to worry about. Down the corridor to my left, a tall guard leaned against the wall and his head twitched forward when I glanced at him, pretending he hadn’t been watching me a moment before. While I longed to pull the edges of my hood deeper around my face, I resisted the urge, certain that the action would do nothing but make me look more suspicious. If he’d recognized me already, there was nothing to do about it anyway.

Anticipation swelled within me, and I bounced on my heels, waiting for Tarion to open the door.

I knocked again, louder this time. The guard’s head shifted again to watch me. As my hand raised to pound on the door for a third time, the handle turned and Tarion poked his head out and cursed.

“Rowan? What the blazes are you doing?”

By the state of his wrinkled shirt and the horrid smell of his breath, I guessed he’d been asleep. “Being a prince must not be as difficult as I presumed, if you’re still in bed at this hour,” I joked.

He moaned and ruffled his dark hair, which stuck out in every direction. “It’s because I am such a great prince that I’m privileged to sleep in. How can I help you?”

I peeked down the corridor to the guard as he straightened his head again. My voice remained as low as wind rushing over a mountain. “Have you heard of General Barrett?”

Tarion groaned at the name. “Heard of him? The man sliced my leg in what was meant to be a friendly sparring match because I wasn’t moving quickly enough.” His hand grazed his leg as if the wound were fresh.

Good, if he disliked the general, he was more likely to participate in my plan. Or rather, Annon’s plan. “Search his room with me.”

Tarion’s eyes grew wide and he poked his head out to glance around. “Are you mad?” he hissed. “The man will kill us if he finds out. When he finds out.”

“He won’t.” I shrugged. “He just went to training; I saw him myself.

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