She nods, then grimaces. “I’m stinking.”
I bet she feels horrible after a night in a cell. “There’s no time for a bath, but I’ll make sure you get the chance to freshen up.”
She looks down. I pull her chin up, and say, “Tarlia, you’ll get a chance to wash.”
“Right.”
Ziven watches us as if bothered. Jealous? I might be the greatest idiot ever, who lethimrescue her. At the same time, ifhe’s the one she loves, there’s no point being a bigger idiot and hoping she’ll change her mind.
“Let’s go in,” I say, realizing too late that I sound angry.
Well, Iamfurious, even if I’m not certain why.
I walk in, Tarlia beside me, as Ziven and Mirella follow us. I hope my agreement with my stepsister will be enough to keep her from betraying us—at least until I find a better solution.
The place is a large restaurant with a staircase in the back leading to rooms. Only two customers sit by the counters. I’m still wearing the cape, and while it won’t make us unnoticeable anymore, I hope it will at least prevent people from recognizing me.
I turn to Tarlia. “We’ll get you something to eat first.”
She raises an eyebrow. “And endure my horrifying stench? Oh, no. I should get cleaned first.”
My stomach knots knowing she’s so disgusted with her own smell. I wish I could kill Zorwal for having subjected her to such an ordeal.
I tell her, “I’ll arrange that for you.”
Only one middle aged woman is working at the counter. I order a room for Tarlia with a cleaning basin, and ask her for new, clean clothes.
The woman looks me up and down. “We’re not a clothing store.”
“Findnew clothes,” I say, and I’m not sure why the threatening kingly tone comes so naturally. Still, I place some gold coins on the counter. “I’ll pay for them.”
The woman tosses the cloth she had in her hand. “Well then.” She smiles at Tarlia. “Let’s get you all clean and proper.”
“She’s already proper,” I blurt, then turn to Tarlia. “What do you want to eat? A soup?”
“Anything.”
“I’ll go with her,” Mirella offers.
I don’t trust my stepsister, so I say, “Stay. Tarlia won’t take long.”
We sit at a table by a corner, and when the woman returns, and I ask her for chicken soup with little oil, since Tarlia’s stomach is empty.
Mirella looks at the stairs. “She shouldn’t be left alone.”
As if she cared. “There’s only one way up.” I point at the stairs. “If someone followed us, they’re still far. She should be fine.”
My stepsister taps her fingers on the table. “My deal with you won’t let me run away or betray you, Renel. And yet I don’t know where we’re going. It wasn’t part of our deal.”
Of course not. But I’m not taking her to the island house I swore to keep a secret—at least not yet. But I say something else. “If it’s true that you could see me, and if you know what we discussed…” I lower my voice. “You know we need to find a way to kill Zorwal.”
She shrugs. “Isn’t it fire?”
Somehow, I’m still stunned that she knows so many details. I say, “There could be more to it. We have to investigate the anchors, right? So it’s what I plan to do. Also, in case we are tracked or followed, I’d rather not reveal Marlak’s location.”
“You could have called Lidiane to take Tarlia back,” she says, somehow trying to pretend she even cares for Tarlia.
“I considered it,” I explain. “But escaping fast and using an unpredictable route was more important.”
