I don’t expect her to listen, but she does. She sits in a pile of lavender velvet and satin, tucking the dry parts of her skirts around her legs, the black leather and fur of his jacket a stark contrast. The worst of her shivering seems to abate.
This time she looks at me, and a hint of a blush finds her cheeks. “Thank you, Ky.”
“Yes, Princess.”
Asher scowls.
Jory’s eyes flick to the stove, and then back to him—and finally to me. I already know what she’s thinking, but I hold her gaze and say nothing.
She chews on her lip, and her eyes shift back to Asher. “We should light it,” she says.
His focus is locked on me. “No.”
“His hands are bound.”
“I don’t care.”
“It doesn’t do us any good if we freeze to death!” she says.
“It doesn’t do us any good if weburnto death.”
“It’s freezing,” she says more quietly. “Asher, please.”
He draws an aggravated breath—but when he exhales, it streams out in a visible cloud, and even he can’t hold back a shiver. “I don’t have flint,” he finally says. “Do you?”
She inhales sharply—then frowns. Of course she doesn’t.
“I have flint,” I offer.
Asher regards me for the longest minute, but he doesn’t move. I add, “You’re going to torture her because you’re afraid of me?”
“I’m not doing anything to her. It’s freezingbecauseof you.” But he crosses the small stretch of floor to stop in front of me, and our fogging breaths mingle between us. “Where is it?”
I don’t answer. Garrett would spit right in his face, but I’m not quite that petty. This close, I can see the start of bruising along his chin, the slight split in his lip. I remember the bruises on the princess’s knuckles. Is he the one she punched? What did he do to cause it?
My lack of an answer seems to aggravate him, because he steps closer and begins tugging at the pouches of my belt. I wonder if I have enough give in these bootlaces to kick him in the crotch and take him down. Probably not.
Instead, I say, “What do the marks on your face mean?”
“They mean I was stupid.” He finds a handful of coins before he finds flint, and they jingle in his palm as he looks down at the silver. I fully expect him to pocket the coins like a thief, and I’m genuinely surprised when he puts them back.
“An honorable killer?” I say to him, and his blue eyes flick up.
“You’re a killer, too,” he says. “Don’t try to deny it.”
“I didn’t.”
He tugs at the next pouch, but his eyes hold mine. “I’m not a thief.”
“What is your plan?” I say.
“You don’t need to worry about myplan.”
“Because you don’t have one?” I say, and it earns me a glare. He finds the flint and palms it, turning away from me to kneel before the stove. When he draws the door open, a plume of dust comes with it.
“We’re going to an inn,” the princess says, shivering between words. “The Three Fishes. Right?”
“We can’t go there now,” Asher says. “We have to stay out of sight.” He thrusts a dusty log into the stove, tosses some kindling on top, and strikes the flint.
