“And your father, how do you expect to be received if a parley is called?”
With a blade to the belly.
“Hopefully with wide open arms.”
Lie.
Chapter Thirty-Six
DAHLIA
She blinkedthe sleep from her eyes.
At some point in the night, she’d fallen asleep between Cosmos and Loshika’s cots in thenonnae’stent. Dahlia lifted her head from her arm, which was perched on the edge of Lo’s cot. She rolled her stiff neck and glanced around the large space.
It had been four days since Lo had been brought into the camp.
Wounded warriors lay sleeping on their cots, lined up in perfect rows with just enough space for the healers to move freely between them. Lanterns hung from the beams above, the light low and soft, and two woodstoves squatly sat along the middle aisle.
The blanket around Lia’s shoulders slipped and pooled in her lap. Pins and needles ran up and down her legs as she stretched them out. Sitting on the floor all night wasn’t her best idea. Her bite ached, and she gingerly touched it, the bumpy stitches lightly scratching against her fingertips.
“Stop,” the grumpy healer Remiche hissed quietly. He hustled over to her and knelt, inspecting the wound. “You must not touch, or you can introduce sickness into it.”
“Noted.” Dahlia nodded to Lo. “How is she?”
“Her fever is much lower than yesterday, but she is still very ill,” he replied in a low voice. “She is very lucky that boy came when he did, or she would have died.”
“Jiaell vie,” she whispered. “Truly. Thank you.”
The elderly giant’s cheeks darkened to a deep blue. “It is my job,Reilleve. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“But this is my friend’s life. I am thankful nonetheless.”
He bustled away, his robes fluttering around his slippered feet.
Cosmos moaned and flipped onto his belly, his hand hanging over the edge. She stared at his long fingers and the planes of his freckled, bruised face. The black eye was healing, but it was ugly. What bothered her the most was the fact that he was looking more like a man every day. It made her ache inside. She tucked his hand back onto the cot and pulled the blanket over him.
“He looks much like you.”
Neve’s voice startled her, and she glanced over her shoulder. The Frost King sat on the floor, his back braced against one of the tent supports of the outer wall, so close that if she reached out she could touch his foot. Had he slept here all night? She twisted until she faced Neve, her butt cold and sore from being on the floor.
“You didn’t have to stay again.” He’d stayed in the infirmary every night since Loshika’s relocation. And he didn’t confine her in his tent.
He arched a brow. “I know.”
Emotion clogged her throat.
Two simple words but they felt like a hug and acceptance.
He nodded to Cosmos. “You treat him like he is your own.” There was a question in that statement. They hadn’t spoken about her brother’s heritage. Only about the protocol for her meeting with Randa.
“He’s my only family,” she admitted. It was a truth she could give him.
The Frost King cocked his head. “Randa has many bastards, does he not? Yet you choose this one to claim as your brother. Why?”
She didn’t want to lie to him anymore.
Don’t lie but choose your words carefully.
