Page 34 of The Cost of Blood and Bonds

My whole body leans toward him before I can pull it back.

“I’d rather see what trouble you cause next,” he says quietly. “Preferably where I can watch.”

It’s a risk, and we both know it. But before I can answer, Grier’s voice cuts across the yard.

“Gemma. You’re done for today.” His tone is wrong, far too formal. He’s already turning toward the castle. I catch up, and he speaks without looking at me. “You’re not to train the princes again without me or Finn present.”

My stomach drops.

“Is that the King’s order?”

Grier doesn’t answer, which is answer enough. I follow him. When we near the castle, he finally speaks.

“You shouldn’t have drawn his eye,” he says, his voice laced with fear.

I glance back to the yard. Whatever this place was going to let me be, unseen or unremarkable, that door just closed. I just made everything harder for her and put her at even more risk.

Chapter 10

Grier

Ilead her through the narrow servants’ corridor that’s tucked away in the lower southern section where nobles rarely venture.

“This one’s yours,” I say, pushing it open and stepping aside. The room is small but clean, with a bed, a washroom, a trunk, and a single window overlooking the gardens.

Gemma steps inside and sets her pack on the bed. She goes straight to the window and tests the latch, then checks the curtains, drawing them closed and adjusting them until the sightline disappears. She maps exits like breathing. It’s how she’s saved countless twins from the King’s grasp, gotten them out of warehouses, noble cellars, and places I’ll never know about.

“I don’t need servants coming in,” she says without looking at me. “They can leave fresh linens outside the door.”

“That can be arranged,” I say. Of course, she’s already planning.

She turns, and those distinctive eyes hit like a blade. I don’t give her time to start directing the day.

“You drew too much attention in the yard. Enough to pull in the King. Enough to have a prince step in for you.” I move in closer, not threatening, just close enough to shut down whatever she was about to say. “You didn’t stumble into Rye’s attention; you claimed it.”

She doesn’t flinch. If anything, she goes still, her expression closing off, clearly deciding it’s not worth answering. I gesture toward the corridor.

“I’ll show you the grounds, common areas only, until things cool down.”

“Lead the way,” she says and falls into step beside me like we’re just two professionals doing our jobs. As if what I just said didn’t change everything between us.

“The servants’ quarters run the length of this wing. Kitchens are at the western end, storage to the east.” I keep my voice neutral. “Training yards are accessed through the eastern exit.”

We emerge into the afternoon sun, the gardens opening out before us with wide paths, manicured greenery, and nobles strolling as if nothing exists beyond the hedgerows.

I catch her looking at me with those familiar eyes. I’ve trained myself not to linger on them. Not to feel it when they land on me like this.

The unease from this morning resurfaces. I can’t shake the way Rye looked at her, the way his attention locked in, the way he moved toward her without thinking.

Her allowing proximity like that isn’t an accident. It’s a choice, and it tells me everything I need to know about how she intends to survive this place. I turn toward her, already forming the warning to be careful and keep her distance.

“Hi, Grier.”

Rosie’s voice reaches me before I can speak, and I turn to find her approaching along the garden path with a pleasant smile. I feel the warning lodged in my throat.

She turns her gaze to Gemma. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Rosalie.”

Rosie doesn’t miss a beat. There’s no hesitation, no sign this isn’t the first time they’ve met or that she’s been part of our planning from the start. Rosie links her arm through Gemma’s, and they fall into easy conversation.