Their travel-worn packs already sagged on a chest at the end of the bed. Amryn felt a similar droop in her own shoulders. Every inch of her was coated in dust from the road and she longed for a bath. And even though the sun had yet to set, she wanted to curl up on that bed. She honestly wasn’t sure what she wanted more in that moment—to sleep, or to be clean.
“Your maid will join you shortly,” the servant said from behind her, making her turn. While the man hadn’t entered the room, Ivan stood just over the threshold, eyeing every corner of the space with a critical gaze.
“Thank you,” Amryn said.
“Of course.” The servant held out the key on his palm. “This is for your use, my lady.”
As she took it, Ivan asked, “Who else has a key to the room?”
The servant’s mouth thinned, but he answered with a polite enough tone. “General Vincetti will have one, of course. And it is protocol for any guard stationed outside a door to have a key, just in case a need arises. The steward also keeps masters of all the keys in the palace.”
Amryn slipped the key into her pocket. “Thank you for all your help,” she told him.
He bowed his head and, after assuring himself that they needed nothing further, he excused himself.
Once he was gone, Ivan moved deeper into the room. “Do you mind if I search the suite?”
The corner of her mouth twitched, because he was already striding toward the washroom. “If I said no, would you still search it?”
“Yenn,” he said, not even glancing at her as he disappeared into the bathing chamber.
A smile tugged into place. She didn’t mind Ivan’s protectiveness. Not when she felt so unsettled and vulnerable. Though she had to admit, just being in Carver’s room soothed some of her frayed nerves. He hadn’t occupied the room in months, but his sandalwood scent still permeated the space.
When Ivan finished his search of the room—and the attached balcony—he returned to stand before her. “Everything appears secure.”
“Thank you.” She folded her arms over her chest. “I know you said you owed me a debt for helping you on Zawri, but you saved me from Marriset. Doesn’t that mean your debt is repaid?”
“Neeyev. I avenged Cora by killing the imposter. That does not mean our debt is settled,il mishka.”
He’d called her that before, though she had no idea what it meant. Curiosity rose, but she was more inclined to ask, “How long will it take to settle this debt?”
Ivan lifted one shoulder. “Until it is repaid.”
Her brow furrowed. “What does that mean, exactly?”
“I must save your life in return.”
“And until then, you’ll just . . . protect me?”
“Yenn.” He eyed her. “Considering the danger that seems intent on following you, I do not think it will be a very long-held debt.”
Despite the tension that had gripped her since arriving at the palace, a laugh broke free. “I know it’s not really funny, but . . . it kind of is.”
Ivan arched one eyebrow, the imperious expression somewhat ruined when his lips twitched. “I am not without a sense of humor, Amryn.”
“You’re a regular Ford.”
He pulled a face.
She chuckled. “He’s not that bad.”
“He attempted to kill me the first time we met,” Ivan deadpanned.
“He did not.” When Ivan gave her a dubious look, she amended, “He might have attacked you if I hadn’t stepped in, but that’s only because he didn’t know you were a friend.”
Ivan merely grunted. “Do you wish me to remain until Carver comes?” he asked.
A part of her wanted to say yes. But she could feel the drag of his exhaustion. Besides, she knew she was safe—for now, at least. “Go rest,” she told him. “I’m fine, and Ahmi will be here soon.”
