He caught my chin.We are not at odds. This is not a competition.
Did he mean that as a warning? A statement that he’s the king, so there’s no competition to be had?
Or did he mean it in another way? Some way I can’t seem to figure out?
It shouldn’t matter. I shouldn’t even be here. She’s sealing an alliance. If anything, I should be happy that they’re finding some kind of accord. I have no part in this.
Then again, I promised Jory I would look out for her. Despite everything that happened in the throne room with the Guildmaster, despite everything hedenied, Hunters came after us anyway. I have no doubt more will follow us into Incendar, either to kill him, or to kill her. I just can’t figure outwhy.
Could it have anything to do with King Theodore’s illness?
I can’t make that work out either. That’s the whole reason they need Maddox Kyronan.
Ky.
I haven’t found the courage to call him that again—despite the factthat I’ve now spent two nights sleeping right beside him. This morning, I woke before the sun, my body lying flush against his, my cheek pressed against his bicep. He was so warm that I didn’t want to move.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Normally I hate sleeping near anyone at all. And when peopletouchme, I usually want to stab them through the arm. But the king barely has to say my name or touch his fingers to my skin, and I’m no longer a trained killer, I’m a fucking lapdog. I’m never like that with anyone but Jory.
I thought maybe he was having another nightmare, but he was warm and still, his breathing soft between us. I moved away anyway. I’m not chained to his arm anymore, and I didn’t want his soldiers to find me there. Hell, I touched Jory’s face and one of them tried to kill me. I have no idea how they’d react if they saw me curled up against their king.
I have no idea howJorywould react.
Or maybe I do. Her fingertips were so cool against my chin, right beside his. Like that moment in the tavern, the touch of their hands at the same time stirred up my insides and filled my veins with honey.
Ah, Jory.I rub at my eyes. I need to stop thinking about this.
“Hey,” Callum says. “Stripes.”
I jerk my hand down. He and Garrett are both looking back at me. I can’t decide if they’re calling me that to be annoying or if they’ve just decided it’s going to be my nickname.
I also can’t decide if I care.
“What?” I haven’t talked to anyone in hours, so my voice comes out rough and wary.
They exchange a glance that might mean mischief—or it might mean trouble. I defeated Nikko last night, but these are the two I really need to watch out for. Of Ky’s soldiers, they’re the biggest, the most aggressive, clearly the brute force of this small team. There’s also asharpnessto them that warns me to tread carefully. It’s like the way Garrett flipped me into the snow when I was choking him with the chain. The move could’ve broken his neck, but he went for it anyway.
“Stop following us like a ghost,” says Garrett.
“Yeah,” says Callum. “Ride up here.”
This isn’t an invitation. It’s a challenge.
Fuck it. I touch my heels to the horse’s sides, and the animal jogs up to ride abreast with the two of them. Just ahead, Jory glances back, and then the king, but I don’t need them to hold my hand. I ignore them both.
Callum is closest to me, and when he looks over, blond hair falls into his eyes. Like the others, he’s practically dripping with weapons—more than I wore as an assassin. I suppose it makes sense, since they apparently ride into war, and I...don’t. A long dagger is strapped to his thigh, and I know a sword is on his left hip. I remember that their bracers cover an array of knives buckled to their forearms, and there are likely more weapons tucked under their greaves.
I still have nothing.
“How did you learn to fight like that?” Callum says to me.
The question sounds genuine, which takes me by surprise—and that’s probably what makes me answer.
“Some of it was the Hunter’s Guild,” I say. “One of the first lessons is how to kill someone before they have a chance to fight back.” I shrug. “But some of it was the slavers.” I gesture to my face. “After I earned a few lines, I’d sometimes get sold into the fighting rings. I’m not big, but I’m pretty fast. They only broke a few ribs before I learned how to get out of the way.”
My voice is flat, because I don’t think much of this—I honestly preferred the fighting rings to the brothels—but Jory whips her head around, horrified. “Asher.”
I look back at her. “You said you wanted the truth.”
