Hojat looks nervous and embarrassed, though I don’t miss the curious edge of his brown eyes as his attention flickers to the satiny strips that just launched him across the room.
“So youcanmove them,” Rip says, voice cutting through the air like shears.
His tone is thoughtful, as though he’s talking mostly to himself. He rubs the black scruff of his chin, his gaze running over the long length of ribbons now lying motionless on the floor.
I don’t know what to say. I’m stuck between a lie and a truth. Squeezed from both sides, trapped between two unyielding walls. Neither of them is the right choice. Neither will protect me.
It’s why I’ve always chosen silence when I can, because silence is sometimes all you have. Like the Deify—the pious people who reside in the Mirrored Sahara of Second Kingdom. Once they go through those doors to take their vow of silence, there’s no going back. Tongues cut from their mouths, they never have to choose between uttering truths or lies again.
I envy them sometimes, that they’ve learned to cheat those crushing walls.
Eyes dropping down, I dig my trembling fingers into the skirts of my dress, faded from its golden glory, wrinkled, slightly damp, baggy, and overworn. I feel every inch of the fabric hanging over me, as heavy as Rip’s stare.
“I knew I saw you use them to break your fall when you descended the Red Raids’ ship.”
I maintain my silence. It’s not like I can deny it. But I don’t have to admit it, either.
“Why do you hide them?” he asks curiously, no mention of the fact that I just almost took out poor Hojat, like he isn’t concerned that I could be considered a threat. I guess to Rip, even with my ribbons, I’m not. Not compared to him, anyway.
I flick my hand against the ribbons, urging them to move behind me on the pallet, where they wind themselves up in tight curls. “Why do youthinkI hide them?” I ask, my voice cracking, snapping words in half like brittle branches. “Should I keep them out all the time like you show off your spikes?”
An arrogant shrug. “That’s exactly what you should do.”
I scoff. “Easy for you to say,Commander. No one would dare touch you. But these?” I ask, picking up a clump of them in my sweaty palm. “I don’t need another reason for people to gawk and pluck at me. Hiding is the only thing I can do.”
“Is that why you don’t like to be touched?”
I feel the blood drain from my face.
“Did people...pluckat you because of those?” Rip asks, gesturing to my ribbons.
A breath sucks in through my teeth, but I’m saved from answering because a dry, scratchy cough tears out of my throat and splits the seams of his question.
Hojat, still frozen on the other side of the tent, suddenly comes alive at the sound. “Pardon, Commander,” he mumbles before coming over to me.
He kneels down at my pallet and pulls off his satchel, digging through the contents inside. “I know you have a fever and a cough. Is that all that ails you, my lady? Is it your ribs?”
I let out a breath and press a thumb against my aching temple. “My throat is a little scratchy, and my head hurts,” I admit. “But my ribs feel healed.”
His eyes quickly skate over my face. “Your cheek and lip healed, too.”
My fingers rub over the areas. “Yes, all better.”
“Okay, let’s get the rest of you right as rain.” He brings out three vials along with a cloth that has some herbs wrapped inside it. He wisely places everything on the furs beside me, careful not to touch me.
I eye the glass bottles. “None of those happen to have boiled intestines in them, do they?”
Hojat shakes his head, and some of the lingering trepidation eases off his face. “No intestines this time, my lady.”
“Bright side,” I mumble under my breath before coughing again.
He taps on the vial nearest me, the liquid green and oily. “Drink half of this now to help that cough. We don’t want it settling into your chest.”
I dutifully pick up the vial and pop the cork off, downing half of it with a grimace on my face, expecting the taste to be awful. However, it’s surprisingly sweet. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” I admit, sealing it again before handing it back.
“There’s some honey in there to cover the taste of the—”
I quickly toss up my hand. “Don’t tell me.”
