If the burned city wasn’t warning enough, this is their war cry.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Aren
I can’t sleep.
All I can see is her sallow, sunken face. I’m so upset I can’t think straight.
Before I can stop myself, I fold up my bedroll and walk through the darkness of camp. I’m so angry, I don’t even announce myself when I push open the flap of Dietan’s tent.
“Hey, you—” I’m about to unleash a torrent of curses, but then I see him.
He’s bathed, his hair still damp, lounging on his bedroll reading. He’s wearing a silk nightshirt open to the waist, his burnished skin made even more golden from the candlelight.
Oh.
It didn’t occur to me that he would look…likethat.
He jumps when I enter. But when he realizes it’s just me, he relaxes a bit. “What’s up?” he asks, propping himself up on one elbow and putting down his book.
I try not to look at the muscles peeking out from his shirt and focus on his face—which really isn’t making things better. The man’s as handsome as he is confusing, and he’s damned confusing, especially right now. I take a deep breath.
“Marcus said you’re sending me away tomorrow. Is that true?” I try to keep my voice steady. I can’t have him thinking I’m weak. Especially after everything we’ve already gone through.
Dietan looks at me coolly, like I’m interrupting his rest. “That is correct. You both leave at dawn.”
“But you need me,” I choke out. Anguish claws my throat raw. I drop the bedroll I’m holding. “You can’t just send me away. We had a deal.” My chest tightens with a painful ache, as if my heart is fracturing.
He looks bleak. “We’ve been set upon by bandits and the Kilandrar, and the Usurper’s troops are sure to follow. You saw what my enemies did to Lydia.”
I nod. I overheard Marcus talking to his men. She’d been interrogated, tortured, and then her throat had been slit. I shudder remembering that sweet, brave girl, and feel helpless with grief and rage.
“I can’tlet it happen to you, too, Aren. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself, deal or no deal.” He smiles grimly. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get your gold.”
Does he really think that all I care about is the gold? Does he take me to be that greedy? That shallow? I begin to protest.
He holds up a hand. “I know we planned for you to leave after we made it to Alba, but we’ve taken this farce as far as it can go. I need to make sure you’re safe. Tomorrow, Marcus will escort you back to Evandale. I’ll continue on with the rest of my men.”
The word “farce” feels like a slap in the face.My stomach sinks.“You’re sending me home?” I’ve missed my family, but the thought of going back now is no comfort.
“Or wherever you want to go. But you can’t stay.”
You can’t stay with me, is what he’s saying.You’re no longer useful. My heart twists.
“No,” I say, exasperated. “I’m not going anywhere.”
It’s like he hasn’t learned anything about me. I don’t give up.
“That was our agreement,” he says tightly. “At the first sign of danger, you’ll go with my guards somewhere secure. There have already been too many close calls.” More softly, placatingly, he adds, “You needn’t worry. Marcus will keep you safe. He’s the best there is.”
“But I—”I feel safe with you, I want to say.I want to be with you, I want to say. But I don’t. For a moment, Dietan looks like there’s more he wants to say, too, but then he pointedly picks up his book.
I remain standing there with my mouth still open, even as no words form.
“Yes? You have something else to discuss?” He sounds annoyed from behind the pages.
He looks up at me with his eyes narrowed, and I don’t care for that look one bit.
