“Would you tell me otherwise?”
I think of the soldiers who poke at the horses and knock my tools in the dirt. Would I tell the prince that half his soldiers are arrogant bastards who deserve a good fist to the gut? Would he care?
Would I want him to care?
No.
I keep my gaze on the food, rolling an almond between my fingers, and I have no idea how to answer.
My chest is so tight. I wish Tycho were here.
“Look at me.”
My eyes flick up.
Prince Rhen looks back at me, and I can feel him trying to pick me apart. I have to be careful here, because the prince is a lot more savvy than a stupid soldier sweating in the heat beside the forge. He saw every emotion the instant I walked in the room, so he can probably read every emotionnow: my resentment, my frustration, my contempt. My anxiety that I’m going to say or do the wrong thing, and it will reflect poorly on Tycho—and lead to a bad end for me.
“You haven’t liked me since the moment we met,” Rhen says.
The almond goes still between my fingers. My chest is caught in a vise grip, and my mouth goes dry.
His gaze has grown more coolly assessing. “For a while I thought it might be born of loyalty to Syhl Shallow, some . . .” He looks up, searching for a word. “Someprejudiceabout working in a kingdom that was once an enemy to your own. But it’s not, is it?”
I should sayyes. I should lay claim to these ideas. It would make sense, and give root to all of this emotion.
But it wouldn’t be true, and I don’t think he’d fall for it.
“No,” I say.
“This is personal.”
“Yes.”
As soon as I say the word, as soon as Iacknowledgeit, the hostility in the air seems to flicker more openly. More honestly.
For a fraction of a second, I think I’ve unraveled everything, and he’ll order me to leave. Worse, I’ll be spending the night in chains.
To my surprise, Rhen looks genuinely intrigued. “Why?” he says quietly. “To my knowledge, I have never done anything to you.”
“No, Your Highness,” I say roughly. “You haven’t done anything tome.”
The instant the words leave my mouth, I wish I could take them back. Because he hears the emotion behind them. I watch them land. I see the impact.
My shoulders are tight, but the words have been spoken, and righteous fury swells in my belly. It takes everything I have not to unleash every thought in my head.
I don’t like seeing my people hungry. I hate that he said it, like he cares about someone’s comfort. It makes me want to throw the food at him. No, it makes me want to point an arrow at him. I want to know how he can claim to care about someone’s hunger while being the same man who chained a young Tycho to a wall. I want to know how he can think about someone’shardships, while being the same man who ordered his guards to find some whips—
“Hold.”
Rhen’s voice is very quiet, and I blink. He said the word in Emberish, and I realize one of his guards has stepped away from the wall. One of my hands is on my bow, and I didn’t even realize it.
I’m breathing hard. I drop the bow on the floor, where it clatters. I have to look away. Now I reallywillend up in chains.
But Prince Rhen says, “I’m going to leave, Jax. Before this conversation ends in a way we’ll both regret.”
I can’t answer. I’m biting the inside of my cheek, and I taste blood.
He stands. “I will keep my promise to Tycho. If you need anything, send word.”
