“Concerned for my safety.” He forced a grin that was far from genuine. “That’s so sweet of you.”
“I know why you’re doing this.” Lysandra raised her voice for all to hear. “Our leader wants us all to saunter into a heavily guarded wedding so he can save his beloved damsel in distress.”
“That’s not it.” The words hissed out from between Jonas’s clenched teeth. “This is to rid Paelsia of the King of Blood’s tyranny. To free our people. I thought that was what you wanted, just as the rest of us do, but now you’re trying to say anything to deter me?”
“I’m not saying it wouldn’t be the greatest gift in the entire universe to watch the king die so he can pay for his atrocities. His death would be the answer to every problem we have.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I think you will fail,” she said flatly. “That unfortunately today your reach exceeds your grasp. And that you can’t see this for yourself because you’ve been blinded by golden hair and blue-green eyes.”
Jonas had told not one person of the kiss in the cave with the princess—not even Brion. He still wasn’t sure what the kiss had meant, if anything. All he knew was that watching Cleo walk away into the guards’ camp was one of the most difficult things he’d ever had to do.
The other rebels muttered to each other. Jonas couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it didn’t sound favorable to him. Lysandra was like the edge of a blade that could slice these rebels apart just when he needed them to stick together.
“Enough squabbling, you two,” Brion growled. “It’s not helping anything. It never does.” He rolled up the reward pamphlet and tossed it into the campfire.
“This has nothing to do with the princess,” Jonas snarled, but he knew it was at least partly a lie. After all, it had been Cleo’s idea—and he still believed it was a damn good one. “And I’m not going in blind. Nerissa’s information has been very useful. She has it on the authority of at least two of the king’s guards that the majority of security at the wedding will be outside for crowd control. Inside, there will be guests, temple attendants, the priest. A handful of guards at the most. I can get us in there to do what we have to do.”
Lysandra crossed her arms over her chest. “How did Nerissa get such information? Oh, wait, let me guess. Did she seduce the guards? Does that girl have any other skill?”
Seduction was Nerissa’s specialty. And now that she could never step foot in Hawk’s Brow again, after assisting Jonas with Cleo’s kidnapping, she was very eager to prove herself as an aid to the rebels. In fact, Nerissa had expressed a great interest in seducing Jonas himself. While he had declined her attentions, he’d been more than happy to put her expertise to use elsewhere.
“Brion,” Jonas said under his breath. “A little help here?”
“Nerissa hasn’t seduced me,” Brion said. “Well, not yet. I think she’s getting around to it eventually. I’m guessing she has a list.”
“Brion.”
His friend let out a long sigh. “Look, Jonas, I know you want to do this. That after so long of not taking a bold action like this, you’re itching to jump on any opportunity. But—I don’t know. I think Lys might be right on this one. It’s too risky right now. You have to see that, right?”
Jonas stared at his friend as if seeing him for the first time. “Of course it’s risky. But if it works, it will mean everything.”
“If it doesn’t, then . . . it means nothing. And you’ll be dead.”
“You’re taking her side.”
The patience was fading from Brion’s gaze. “It’s not a matter of taking sides. It’s an attempt to see the situation clearly.”
“You used to be the first one to jump into a fight. What happened?” His temper and frustration had risen and with it his tactlessness. “Oh, wait. I know what happened. Lysandra happened.”
Any remaining friendliness disappeared from Brion’s face. “That’s a low blow.”
“You’re not thinking with your head when it comes to her. Sorry to break it to you, but taking her side isn’t going to make her fall in love with you. So you should stop following her around like a lost puppy.”
He finally looked directly at his friend, just as Brion’s fist slammed right into his face. Jonas staggered back from him.
“If I want your opinion,” Brion said in a growl, “I’ll beat it out of you.”
Jonas swiped his hand beneath his nose. “Hit me again and we’re going to have a problem.”
This time, Brion shoved Jonas so hard that he slammed into a tree trunk.
Now the rebels were much more vocal than before.
“Come on, Jonas! Don’t let him do that.”
“Knock him out, Brion!”
“Kick his arse! Let’s see some more blood!”
Paelsians always did enjoy a good fight.
“Stop it,” Jonas growled as Brion drew closer, his fists clenched at his sides.
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll stop you.”
Brion had a tendency to brawl at any given moment, but he’d never once fought with Jonas. Despite the warning, Brion approached again, but Jonas was ready this time. He punched Brion in the stomach, then in his chin, knocking his friend backward and to the ground. Lysandra ran to the boy’s side, glaring at Jonas.