“Youcan’t.”
That hits me like a slap, and emotion swells to fill my chest. Another tear snakes down my face, and I hastily swipe it away.
A muscle twitches in Asher’s jaw, and he swears under his breath. “I don’t want your fuckingpity, Jory.”
“It’s not pity.” But it is. I swipe another tear away. I inhale sharply, ready to beg, to plead, to find a way to fix this—even though I have no idea how. “Please—Asher—”
“Princess.” The king’s voice is low, quiet. I look up in surprise, and he adds, “He’s had enough. Leave him be.”
That makes me look back at Asher, and I realize he’s pulled his arms against his abdomen, his hands gripping his elbows. His jaw is set, every muscle tight and bunched. His eyes are dark and shadowed, and that faint sheen of sweat has broken out across his shoulders again.
A pulse of regret pierces my heart. “I’ll fix this,” I whisper. “I swear to you, Asher. I’ll find a way to fix this.”
He says nothing.
I suddenly realize he doesn’t believe me.
But of course he doesn’t. I couldn’t fix it when he was dragged out of the palace the first time, and I couldn’t fix it tonight. I was powerless when Dane backhanded him in the throne room, then set his penalty to a million silvers—and if Ky hadn’t demanded that Asher should be subject to Incendrian justice, he’d be back in the dungeons right now.
The thought gives me a jolt. With a start, I look up at Ky, reevaluating everything that’s happened since the moment he drew me aboard thathorse. I begged him to release Asher, and he refused. He demanded my presence for a month, and I hated him for it.
But I consider what my life would’ve been like if Maddox Kyronan hadleft. The way Dane would have blamed me for unraveling the alliance. The way Asher would be back with the slavers, with no end in sight.
Instead, we’re here, and we’re safe.
The king is staring down at me placidly, his arms folded, his golden eyes revealing nothing.
“The day has been long,” he says, and his tone is cool. Official. It cuts through the heady emotion in the room. “You both should rest. Princess, I would feel safest if you would remain here, on the other pallet—but if you would prefer to take the other room, I will have Sev make guard assignments.”
“Fine,” I say, though I’m hardly listening. I can’t stop thinking about the way I’ve spent hours hating him for his betrayal...all while he was taking steps to get us safely away from Dane.
“Thank you,” I say to him.
“For what?”
For protecting my friend. For protecting me.
But I can’t say that. Not right now. Not when I feel so powerless. I’m not even entirely sure if it’s true. Not when Asher is chained to his arm, and I’m not sure what either one of them would do if he got free. Asher’s anger is still a potent force in the room, and I’m afraid to consider how much of it is directed at me.
But we’re here and we’re safe, and this is nowhere close to where I thought we’d end up.
I look back at the king. “For your kindness,” I say.
He seems struck by that, but only for a moment, because he blinks it away, any softness vanishing from his demeanor. The formidable warrior is all that remains.
“Yes, Princess,” he says, giving me a sharp nod, leaving me to wonder if he even knows what I’m thanking him for.
And before I can respond, he turns away and calls for his guards.
Chapter Twenty
The Warrior
It’s late and it’s dark, only embers glowing in the hearth. Asher is asleep to my right, curled on his side, his arm half extended from the chain that still keeps us tethered. After everything that’s happened, I don’t think he’d try to run, and I don’t think he’d convince the princess to leave with him...but I also didn’t want to risk it. It’s the same reason my weapons aren’t strapped to my body where he can reach them, and instead they’re on the floor beside me.
The princess is sound asleep on the other pallet to my left, her chest rising and falling with each breath. Her lady Charlotte is on her other side, sleeping primly with blankets pulled up to her chin. Callum should be outside the door now, because I heard the low rumble of his voice when he changed shifts with Roman.
Otherwise, the inn is quiet, and it has been for hours. I should be sound asleep, too. Bleeding skies, I’m tired enough. But nervous energy has me longing to call a bit of flame to drift between my fingers, and that’s never a good idea when I’m lying in bed. Just one wayward spark and the whole pallet could go up. When I was young, I nearly burned down half an encampment. My sister Victoria already causes enough problems in Incendar. I don’t need to start any here.
