The Bone Palace by Amanda Downum Read Free Book Online

wanted to clench around the memory of a dagger and she adjusted the drape of her forest-green skirts over the bench instead.
    Metallic light trickled through the windows, robbing the pink and yellow granite tiles of their warmth. Thick clouds dragged past overhead, pregnant with unshed rain. Savedra regretted the image as soon as it came to her and looked down again. She studied the flash of steel, the fighters’ footwork, the play of muscle under sweat-sheened skin—anything but Ashlin’s face or waist.
    The princess’s stomach was lean as ever under her leather vest, she decided after several moments of carefully not looking. The last pregnancy had progressed far enough to show, but that softness was gone now. Muscle corded in Ashlin’s arms as she lunged and parried, and sweat darkened her linen shirt and pasted stray wisps of short candle-flame hair to her cheeks and brow. In the light of day Savedra’s fears seemed ridiculous—Ashlin could more than handle any assassin.
    Warrior princess. Barbarian. One-day queen of Selafai. And by some joke of the saints, Savedra’s friend instead of bitter rival. A friend she would kill to protect.
    As a friend, she should convince the princess to rest. No one else dared—no one wanted the edge of Ashlin’s tongue, especially Nikos. But the last miscarriage had been harder than the princess would admit, and Savedra had been the one to stroke her hair, to clean away the blood and pretend she never saw the tears. For all the years she’d wished to be born a woman in flesh as well as mind, some things she didn’t envy.
    A footstep in the doorway drew her head up. The grey light wasn’t kind to Nikos—his sandalwood skin looked sickly and shadows smudged his eyes. Even his usual flamboyant clothing was subdued to shades of black and emerald. He hadn’t been in his rooms when she’d first knocked, far earlier than he normally rose, and Kistos had only shaken his head with the pained look that meant he’d been told not to speak of something. Nikos tried to school his face now, but she caught the tightness at the corners of his mouth. His lips quirked as he watched Ashlin.
    He stopped behind Savedra’s bench and brushed a quick caress across her shoulder. “Have breakfast with me. I need to talk to you.”
    Had Denaris told him about the assassin already? Usually she waited till lunch, if the would-be killer was already dead.
    Once Savedra might have thought it a point scored, that he came to her and not his wife for counsel, but she had long since given up scorekeeping. Now loyalty and friendship pricked and tugged her with every conflict.
    “Alone?” she asked, arching her eyebrows.
    Before he answered, the sky opened with a sigh and rain rattled against the windows. The clash of steel died. Out of the corner of her eye, Savedra saw Ashlin frozen in place and scowling, her opponent’s sword brushing her belt buckle.
    The guard, one of Ashlin’s personal retinue, said something joking in Celanoran and stepped back with a bow. She repeated the word, still frowning, and turned away to sheathe her blade. The soldier, well-used to her temper, caught Savedra’s eye and quirked an eloquent brow. One corner of her mouth curled wryly in response.
    Ashlin crossed the room in long strides, rain-shadows rippling across her flushed skin. From her expression, Savedra guessed she wanted to chide Nikos for costing her the match. But that would mean admitting that he could distract her.
    “My Lady,” he said with a shallow bow. “As I was just asking Vedra, would you join us for breakfast?”
    Her scowl transformed into an entirely different frown as she sniffed herself. “I need a bath more than food.”
    Savedra thought he would drop the matter now that courtesy was satisfied, but he surprised her. “You can have both in my rooms. I think you’ll like to hear this story.”
    Nikos’ suite was in its usual disarray: clothing draped over bed and chairs, tables littered with