She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“The Rowan,” Ivan murmured. “It is a title the leader of the Rising adopted.”
“Yes.” Amryn’s brow furrowed. “How did you know . . .?” Her eyes suddenly widened. “The guard in the prison. He’s still alive?” Worry and hope warred in the desperate question.
“Yes,” Carver said. “Samuel stayed with him so he wouldn’t be alone. I’m sure a physician is with him by now.”
“He’s the one who told us which way you’d gone,” Ford added. “Without him, we might have been too late.”
Carver’s gut twisted at the mere thought.
The way Amryn slipped her hand around his made him certain she’d felt his fear. He squeezed her hand in return.
When she moved to stand, he rose with her, helping to draw her to her feet. He looped an arm around her waist, keeping her close. Then he focused on Ford. “I want you to get Tam secured in a cell. She got a dose ofvoralisbut should otherwise be fine.”
Ford glanced at Amryn. “Well done.”
She gave him a small smile, but Carver could feel the tension in her.
He tightened his hold. “Ford? No one talks to Tam but me. Don’t let anyone into her cell.”
Curiosity flickered in Ford’s eyes, but he dipped his chin before striding back toward the palace yard. Carver could hear voices as reinforcements arrived. They were too late to help with the fight, but they could help clean it up.
Glancing at Janson’s body, Carver angled Amryn toward the gate. “Let’s get you inside. Ahmi can draw you a bath, and—”
She laid a hand on his chest, halting him. “We need to tell Jayveh that Jamir is dead. And that we have Tam.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Carver said, though the thought of leaving Amryn made his stomach knot.
Her palm pressed more firmly against him. “I want to come with you.” The look in her eyes made it clear that she was just as reluctant to separate.
He brushed a kiss to her temple. “All right.”
She relaxed against his side.
Ivan strode over to collect Carver’s dropped sword. “I will clean this and return it to your room.”
“Thank you,” Carver said. He had a couple other knives, just in case. But taking care of his sword right now would mean letting go of Amryn, and that was something he wasn’t willing to do.
“Did everything go all right in the treasury?” Amryn asked.
Bram’s face was suddenly all Carver could see.
“We arrested the rebels,” Ivan said, tone neutral.
Amryn’s lips pressed into a line. “Was Bram very upset?”
Ivan looked to Carver.
He knew the truth would cause her pain—but he could not keep this from her. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Bram is dead.”
Amryn’s focus cut to him, surprise, grief, and horror rising in her sea-green eyes. “H-How? The plan—”
“Bram attempted to kill Carver,” Ivan cut in. “His death could not be avoided.”
Carver was a little surprised Ivan didn’t tell Amryn the full truth—that Carver had been the one to end Bram’s life. He didn’t think it was for his sake, but still. He met Ivan’s gaze before he met Amryn’s shocked stare. “He came at me, and I reacted without thought. I’m sorry.”
Moisture filled her eyes, and he braced. She laid a palm against his cheek. “Did he hurt you?”
