‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured. Will stiffened. ‘About your mother. The pain of it never leaves you.’
‘No,’ he agreed quietly. ‘It doesn’t.’ He kept his gaze locked ahead as he said, ‘I’m sorry too. I’m not ignorant to the role my father played in your mother’s death.’
Aya drew in a shaky breath. ‘It’s not your fault.’ She didn’t say it to assuage his guilt, but simply because it was true. There was only one person to blame for that, and it wasn’t Will.
He stopped, the abruptness of it catching Aya off-guard. She was a few paces ahead of him before she glanced back.
‘Even still. I am sorry.’
Three times now she’d heard those words from him. Shestill wasn’t sure what to make of it all. But she nodded, which must have been enough, because he strolled back to her side, falling in step with her as they ducked into the narrow street that connected one plaza to the next.
‘Would you have taken over his merchant empire? Had you not joined the Dyminara?’ It was what everyone had expected, before Will joined qualifications. She wondered if his father had been surprised, or even angry. Will let out a bitter noise.
‘No. I would not have tied myself to him any more than I already am.’
She went to press him further, but he changed the subject.
‘What do you miss most about home?’ he asked, his shoulder bumping hers as a group of children raced around them, towels in hand as they ran toward the beach.
Tova. Pa. Tyr.
But she’d had enough heaviness for one conversation and suspected he had, too. So Aya forced a small smile to her face as she said ‘The Ventaleh.’
Will laughed, the rich tenor of it seeming to fill the street. ‘I’m serious.’
‘As am I,’ Aya retorted. ‘I don’t mind the cold. And when the wind comes, it means warm fires, and chaucholda, and the Dawning. I used to sit by the fire in the library at the Quarter and carve for hours when the Ventaleh began to howl.’
He glanced sidelong at her. ‘I haven’t seen you carve since we’ve arrived.’
She was surprised he’d noticed she carved at all. ‘It’s not like I had time to grab my supplies when we left.’
Will’s eyes found the street again, his jaw shifting slightly.
‘Anyway,’ she continued, tucking thoughts of that day away, ‘the Ventaleh has its own peace to it. I find it soothing. Not like …’
She waved a hand in the direction of the beach, where they could hear music and laughter starting. It was nearly sunset, and the townspeople treated the moment like a festival. They gathered to build small fires, where they ate and drank and toasted another day.
‘I miss the mountains,’ Will confessed. ‘That’s where I find my peace.’
‘And here I thought you were going to say your fancy dinners at Eden.’
‘Ah yes, those too, of course.’ He said it with enough sarcasm that Aya couldn’t help the grin that tugged at the corners of her mouth. They’d made it to the residential section of the Old Town, the next plaza they walked through more like a small courtyard. It was quiet except for the tinkling of the small fountain in its center, its residents likely by the sea or grabbing an early drink in town.
‘So you—’
The words died on her lips as a sharp whizzing sounded near her ear. Aya spun, her hand instinctively reaching for the blade at her hip as she took in the three hooded men, two with swords drawn and one with a bow, its string pulled taut.
Aya’s fingers curled around the handle of her blade, but she didn’t draw it.
Will stepped forward. ‘Can we help you, gentlemen?’ His voice was calm, but his back was tense, his muscles twitching as he rested a hand on the sword at his side. The men wore the traditional clothes of the Western Kingdom, but so did Aya and Will. If Kakos had found them, if they knew about her …
‘You and your father are an insult to the gods,’ the man in the center snarled, his voice like gravel, his accent marking him from Trahir.
‘The Bellare, I take it?’ Will asked lightly.
Aya felt a prickling sensation creep up her spine, and sheglanced over her shoulder. Three more men prowled down the narrow street behind them, knives and swords drawn.
An ambush. This was an ambush.
