Carver
CarverleftAmrynwithJayveh. Their only goodbye was a soft brush of his lips against hers.
Then he locked down his emotions and descended into the prison. He had turned down his father’s offer of help. If this went as he expected, he did not want any witnesses.
When he found Ford outside Tam’s cell, his friend was grim. Word had spread quickly about the emperor’s murder.
“Go get some rest,” Carver told his friend.
Ford’s eyebrows drew together. “You don’t have to do this,” he said quietly. “I can interrogate her.”
Torture was not what Carver had in mind tonight. But gratitude stirred inside him at Ford’s offer to shield him. “This is something I need to do,” he said.
Ford didn’t dispute that. He inclined his head, then stepped away from the door.
As his footsteps faded, Carver took a final, bracing breath. The knife on his hip was heavy as he walked into the cell.
Tam was awake. She sat on the bench along the back wall, the lantern on a hook near the door casting her face half in shadow. Manacles encircled her wrists, the chain lying across her lap before trailing to an anchor in the stone wall. When her eyes fell on Carver, her posture stiffened.
His mask was firmly in place. It was the one he’d worn on too many battlefields to count. The one that had made his reputation stretch to every corner of the empireand beyond. The one that inspired instant terror in his enemies and gave weight to the nickname he loathed, but bore all the same.
Tam’s eyes widened as she took him in, her breaths quickening as Carver used his heel to nudge the door closed. It shut almost gently, the latch a soft click.
Her tongue darted over her lips. “I suppose I should have expected it would be you.”
Carver said nothing. He just moved closer, his steps measured.
Fear sparked in Tam’s eyes, though she made a valiant effort not to show it. “It seems your wife is a liar,” she said, her tone almost conversational—except for the tension that infused each word. “She said her poison would kill me.” She snorted. “Perhaps we’re even. We’ve both failed at poisoning each other now.”
Carver ignored that. “Where is Argent’s body?”
Tam blinked, her thoughts clearly racing. “Who says he’s dead?”
Carver drew his blade.
Tam’s eyes flew wide. Chains clinked as she scrambled to her feet. “You don’t want to hurt me. There are things I can tell you—about Argent.”
“Tell me where you left his body,” Carver said, his voice so dark he hardly recognized it.
“He isn’t dead.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not!”
“If you won’t tell me where you left him, then there’s nothing else for us to discuss.” His hold on the knife tightened.
Tam balked. “You’re here tokillme?”
Carver said nothing. But the look in his eyes said everything.
Tam paled. She shifted back, moving to stand beside the bench, shoulder blades pressed to the stone wall. As far as she could get from him, with the chain clinging to her. “You can’t just kill me.”
Carver took a step forward. His stomach knotted, but he refused to feel anything but resolve.
You’re standing on a bridge.
He would tell Jayveh it was an accident. That he went too far. He would be reprimanded—possibly even lose his rank, and certainly Jayveh’s trust—but Amryn’s secret would be protected.
