“Yes. I think an extra pair of hands would help with your... plan.” He held out his bound hands as if presenting how capable they were.
But I’d already seen what they could do. What I needed to know was whatelsethey’d done.
“You don’t think I could handle the jailer if I weren’t shackled?” I asked.
This time, his gaze traveled over me, taking in my torn uniform and dirty boots. “You were truly a palace guard?”
Annoyed that he hadn’t answered my question, I demanded, “Does that surprise you?”
He shrugged. “Only that Weylin allowed a woman to be trained as a guard. He’s the only king in Lancora who keeps women out of his guard and his army. Apart from you, apparently.” He tipped his head at me, the question clear in his voice.
“I wasn’t just a palace guard,” I said slowly, as if reluctant to admit my role. “I was trained as the personal guard for the princesses. His Majesty believed a woman would be less conspicuous to potential assailants.”
Aiden snorted. “Only to fools like Weylin, perhaps. In my experience, when women are barred from learning to fight, it’s because the men in charge are afraid they’ll fight back.”
My eyes widened. I had always hated that my father refused to let women join the guard or the army—which were the only two ways for anyone to learn how to fight, how to use weapons. He claimed that women were naturally weaker in mind and body, and he wanted the strongest. Yet Renwell had trained me in both fighting and weapons, among other things.
But to hear this prisoner say such things kindled a fire in my chest I didn’t understand. I also didn’t miss the way he called my father “Weylin” as if he were a fellow criminal on the street.
Renwell was right to suspect Aiden.
“You speak treason,” I breathed.
“I speak truth.”
“They will kill you for it.”
“Maybe.” His gaze burned into me, his half-dark, half-light visage reminiscent of a vengeful god. “But I don’t fear the Abyss. There are worse things in this world.”
My heart pounded so hard I thought he might hear it. “I can’t tell if you’re a madman or a fanatic.”
His voice softened. “A little of both, perhaps. Or something else entirely.” His gaze fell to my mouth.
My lips tingled as if he’d reached out and touched them. Realizing I’d shifted closer to him at some point, I pressed my spine into the rocky crags of the wall.
He said nothing. Simply pursed his full lips, curiosity glittering in his eyes before he too retreated into the shadows.
I cast about for a question to ask, a comment to make—anything that would break the strange silence between us.
But then he spoke again. “I must say, you are far more effective at carving out my secrets than Renwell was with his torture. But then again, he knew you would be, didn’t he?”
Chapter 5
Kiera
My heart stopped.
Panic turned my world into cracked glass that felt like it would shatter at any moment. And me along with it.
But I couldn’t. He was guessing. Playing with me to see what I’d do.
“R-Renwell?” The stammer was unfeigned. “He’s the one who—who did this to me.” I gestured pathetically at my torn clothes and throbbing face.
“Convincing, very convincing,” Aiden murmured. “But why?”
Inwardly, I sneered. He thought he was getting the upper hand—forcing me to reveal my identity and my crime. But it would all be a lie. I just had to sell it.
I sagged against the wall, cradling my aching ribs. “I already told you I am—was—the princesses’ personal guard. I was rarely allowed free time, let alone friends. But...” I sniffed and wiped my nose on my sleeve. “But there was a boy, a young boy, named Julian.” A memory of the real Julian pierced my mind. His sweet smile and deep brown eyes coaxed real tears to my eyes. It was why I’d chosen this as my story. A lie was always stronger with threads of truth.
