Her shoulders fell a little. “Maybe you should have gone with them . . .”
“No.” Bennick needed as many men as possible out there, and neither he nor Venn had been comfortable with the thought of leaving Vera with only one man.
Unless that man was him, of course.
Vera slid a thumb over the mug’s handle, but she didn’t say anything.
Venn resumed pacing, his thoughts churning.
The door opened suddenly and Vera sprang to her feet. “Clare?” she asked urgently, her voice pinched with anxiety.
Venn’s heart lurched at the dark looks on Bennick and Wilf’s faces.
Wilf was the one who answered. “We almost had her. The Rose betrayed us, and we lost her to a man named Latif. Salim is dead.”
Each fact—so easily listed—hit Venn hard. And though Wilf didn’t say it outright, it was clear the Rose had escaped—otherwise, he would be here in chains. He glanced over at Vera, and it was clear she’d reached the same conclusion.
She lowered back into her chair, and even with the space between them, Venn could feel the torrent of her emotions. Fear that the Rose was free. Relief that Salim was dead. Grief for for losing Clare.
He crossed to her at once and set a hand on her shoulder. It probably warmed him too much that she didn’t pull away.
He focused on Bennick. “What’s the plan?”
“We sent men to each city gate to watch for her.” Fates, he looked . . . lost. Completely raw.
He told them what had happened in brief statements; Clare had been taken by Latif, but another man entirely had hired Salim in the first place.
He drew out a folded letter. “This is what Latif brought Salim tonight, so he would know he was sent by the man who hired Salim. Whoever hired him came from the palace—and wasn’t a servant, according to Salim.” He handed Venn the missive. “I need you and Vera to leave at first light for Duvan. Take this with you. It’s possible someone in Desfan’s court will recognize the handwriting or make sense of the coded message. They might be able to identify the one responsible for this. That could keep Serene safe, and possibly lead us to Clare.”
Venn thought about protesting; sending Bennick and Wilf into the unknown to chase down Clare without him went against his instincts. But Bennick was his captain, and he had a good point; if the man who’d hired Salim was in Duvan, then Serene was in danger. She needed to be warned. As a royal bodyguard, Venn had sworn an oath to protect her with his life.
It shouldn’t be trusted to anyone else here.
So, he nodded and took the letter, quickly skimming the message. Memorizing it, just in case. Then he stuffed it in his pocket. “Even if we can’t find the one who wrote this, we can warn Serene about the potential threat in the palace. And let her know the Rose escaped.”
“Thank you.” Bennick rubbed at his brow, looking years older than he had before leaving the inn. “I can only spare one or two men to go with you.”
“No,” Venn said at once. “You need all of them. You have no idea where Latif is taking Clare, or how many reinforcements he might have. Vera and I can make it alone.”
Bennick dipped his head, his throat flexing. His devastation at losing Clare was all too clear. Just the sight of his pain made Venn wince.
Vera’s soft voice drifted toward them. “Clare knows you’re alive, Bennick. She knows you’re coming for her.”
A flinch cut across his face, and he cleared his throat. “I need a moment.” He strode past them all, not making eye contact as he headed to the back door of the inn.
Venn and Wilf exchanged a look, and then the older guard followed Bennick. Venn glanced to Vera, but she was already waving him away. “Go. I’m fine.”
That didn’t seem to be fully true; she looked nearly as gutted as Bennick. But Venn nodded and hurried after Wilf.
They found Bennick slumped forward against the brick wall of the inn, and in the pale light of the moon Venn could see blood smeared on his knuckles.
Wilf hung back, letting Venn take the lead.
He stepped forward and set a hand on Bennick’s trembling shoulder.
His friend twisted to face him, and the stark agony in his eyes momentarily stole Venn’s breath.
He fought for words, but all of them seemed useless. “I’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice low. “I know exactly what you’re going through, because I went through it with Vera. She kept slipping through my fingers the whole time we were tracking them. It’s pure torture.”
