Page 19 of Of Might and Mettle

He nodded in response, but his lips pursed, as if he wasn’t sure whether to take her at her word. But she met his gaze unflinchingly. She needed him, of all people, to believe.

Teresa risked a glance over her shoulder, seeing how the director of the ballet had already herded the dancers back to their positions and started the music. If the dancers fell, they could pick themselves back up again and keep going. Or if an instrument broke, at least it could be repaired.

But Teresa didn’t have that same luxury, sequestered away in her room to await the endless prodding of a physician and the silent answer to her desperate prayers.

Chapter twelve

Costumes

The sights and sounds of the port city, the saltwater on the breeze, and the moonlight sparkling on the rippling ocean waves brought Lorelle a sickening sense of familiarity, and her stomach twisted in knotted ribbons. She’d hoped that the years she’d spent at the academy on the other side of the island, and the last five years spent traveling from town to town with the company, would have wiped her mind of her hometown entirely. But it was all too familiar. All too much like she imagined it would feel to come home, but instead of the warm hug of belonging, only a cold breeze embraced her.

From where they stood at the entrance to the city of Mar Verde, Lorelle could only see the sprawling fortress wall on either side. And far beyond, higher up in the mountains, she spotted the bright lights illuminating the palace on the hill. Their destination. And if it was up to her, they would make it to the palace before the end of the night, but one look at Antonio’s pained expression sent the words fleeing from her lips.

He needed to rest just as much as she did, if not more. She doubted he’d slept much at all these last few days, what with that unspeakable burden that weighed on his mind. He’d told her some about how he’d come to be in the river to save her, and that he was investigating a matter of the kingdom’s safety. But even in his reticence, she knew whatever he wanted to investigate at the docks had to do with the incident that had stolen his leg. Whatever ghosts lingered still haunted him. Just as she wouldn’t abandon Peluche, she could help Antonio.

Even if he didn’t know it yet.

They’d finished their supplies of food earlier in the afternoon, and now Peluche slumbered in the satchel, growling softly when she stopped suddenly at the gate and the bag bumped against her hip.

“Careful, or you’ll wake him,” Antonio said softly. Then his teeth flashed in a smile. “And I’m not carrying him anymore.”

But then his smile slipped away, though whether it was because he noticed something in her expression or because he was dealing with his own burdens, she didn’t know. He’d ditched his walking stick earlier in the afternoon, and shadows seemed to cling to him, slowing their progress as they dragged on to the capital.

Antonio paused in the shadow of the gate with her. Then, taking a breath as if to collect himself, he steeled his shoulders. Recognition flared through her at the same motion she made whenever it was her turn to go on stage. It was the action of someone putting on a facade, hiding a vulnerable part of themselves from the world’s judgement.

And for the first time, she didn’t see the stoic yet considerate Antonio she had come to know, but Capitán Antonio Fuentes, the dedicated servant of the king ready to take down any threat to the kingdom. He strode to the gate and called up for the guards. When they recognized him, they immediately lifted the wrought-iron gates to let him through.

Antonio passed the gates into the city. When she didn’t join him, he turned back to look at her. But she was frozen in place. Understanding flickered in his gaze, and he inclined his head as if to say It’s okay, then offered a tentative smile. The smile thawed her frozen limbs, and she took a step. She caught up to him as they passed into the brick-paved streets and the shadows cast by the terracotta-roofed buildings.

The quiet creaking of his knee was a familiar sound, and she fought a teasing comment to dispel the tension coiled within her. He would not appreciate it now, not with the way his gaze was fixed hundreds of feet ahead as if expecting an unseen enemy in the dark. His hand gripped the handle of his revolver.

Maybe they could investigate the docks under daylight. The port this morning hadn’t inspired that kind of tension in Antonio, nor the curl of fear in her gut.

“Let’s find a place for you to rest,” Antonio said, lengthening his stride down the street.

Lorelle held onto her resolve. “No, I’ll go with you.”

Antonio shot her a glance over his shoulder, and she could see the conflict in his gaze. Go after his mission to uncover the threat against the kingdom, or look after her, as he’d promised to get her back to the palace.

She took a breath. “At least let me go with you,” she said. “I’ll be quiet, and then we can find an inn.”

Antonio frowned. “No, Lorelle—”

“I won’t be able to rest if I think you’re in danger,” she cut him off. “Besides,” she added, “Peluche would miss you.”

Antonio let out a sound between a laugh and a groan. He ran a hand down his face. “And I can’t take risks if I think you’re in danger.”

“Then don’t take risks,” she quipped back. “Be safe. Whatever it is you need to do, can’t you just look? If you need witnesses for the king to believe you, we’ll go with you.” She offered a wry smile. “Though I doubt Peluche would count.”

Antonio was silent for so long, Lorelle thought he really would tell her to leave, to finish the rest of the journey on her own. “Goliat,” he said with a sigh, “and come on.”

A laugh escaped her lips, and she grinned as she followed Antonio through the streets. As they wove toward the city center, the street pressed in tighter, and wheel grooves marked divots in the ground where one carriage could pass through each way.

And though it was late in the evening, the plaza was full of music, food, and dancing. The cool salty breeze whisked away the heat of the day, swirling colorful skirts like a ripple of a rainbow reflecting off the ocean waves. A four-man band played a lively tune, one that had Lorelle tapping her heels to the ground in time with the percussion as Antonio skirted the edge of the square.

The lights and sound of the dance faded, replaced with only the rushing wind and the sound of water lapping on the shore. Icy water seemed to douse her.

The docks.