“What of Aquinon?” I asked.
Worry flickered in those soft amber eyes. She bit her lip as she seemed to decide what to tell me. “Aquinon can wait.” She gestured toward the makeshift camp and beyond. “They can’t.”
She moved to walk past me. My hand stretched out to grasp her arm before I yanked it back to my side. I didn’t even know why I wanted to stop her. To express my relief that I hadn’t seen her face for the last time? To assure her of my protection?
She had lied to me. Used me. Chosen her bastard father and her manipulative mentor over me.
I couldn’t fathom why I struggled to harden my heart this time. It’d been easy after the horrors of the Pravaran rebellion and in the dark hell that was the sunstone prison mine. And after losing Brielle.
But now? Perhaps I couldn’t harden my heart with pieces of it still missing.
Still clutched in a thief’s scarred fingers.
I kneeled at the river’s edge and splashed water on my face. The iciness of it set my teeth on edge and sliced through the haze in my mind.
I had a battle to fight that had nothing to do with Kiera. Just as her choices excluded me. As it should be.
When I returned to camp, the stew was ready. Nikella handed me a full bowl with a spoon. A silent argument passed within our gazes.
Why didn’t you tell me?
I didn’t need to.
I don’t like it.
You don’t have to.
My glare softened, and I gestured with my bowl.Thank you for the soup.
She dipped her head, a small smile interrupting her scar.You’re welcome.
I sat with her while Maz happily took a spot next to Kiera, throwing an easy arm around her shoulders.
Even Yarina seemed pleased by her unexpected arrival. “You can’t win a battle with that piddly knife. I’ll teach you how to wield any weapon you wish.”
“Including a scythe?” Kiera asked lightly.
Yarina shoved her shoulder, nearly spilling Kiera’s soup into her lap. “Never, princess. Like I said, no one touches my scythes but me. Even if I only have one hand to wield them.”
Jek sat next to Nikella with a sly grin. “I hear Vorkahn is an expert at one-handing his weapon. Perhaps you should ask him for advice.”
Chuckles rumbled around the fire, the loudest from Vorkahn—a Dag as tall as a tree with skin like bark and a laugh like thunder.
A corner of Kiera’s mouth lifted. Distracted, I tilted my bowl, and hot soup dripped onto my hand. I subtly licked it off.
I looked up to see Maz watching me with a knowing grin. I scowled at him and took my soup elsewhere while the Dags continued to rib each other.
I ate quietly in the dark next to Wicked, who kept nipping at my pockets for carrots. Jek wandered past on his way to take a piss and asked me to stand first watch. I agreed.
The night turned even chillier. I’d forgotten what it was like in the mountains. Especially as winter neared. I’d actually grown somewhat fond of Aquinon’s storms and heat.
After an hour of shivering under my cloak, I unsheathed my sword and ran through several mock fights. I’d had littleopportunity to practice my swordsmanship the last few years, despite the training room beneath the Temple.
I needed to be ready for whatever awaited us.
I wondered what Kiera would have said if I’d offered to train with her.
My body felt loose and warm by the time Maz stumbled away from camp to relieve me.
