I flash him a look, which he meets with a solemn nonexpression. I snort softly then tug his arm. “I’ll clean you up. Don’t want it getting infected.” There are both water and spirits to be had from the table. In short order, I’ve washed out the little punctures, and then, for lack of anything better to bind them with, I carefully wrap the rose-silk scarf around his hand. “That was very brave of you,” I say.
“I’ve faced worser foes.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Maybe. But that was nonetheless an impressive climb. Perhaps not as impressive as swinging across a vat of roiling lava but thrilling enough in its way.”
“It is my honor to thrill you, Princess.”
Damn the man. He’s going to keep me in a constant state of flushing if I’m not careful. I look down at his hand, and find myself gently stroking the silk, smoothing out little creases. Realizing what I’m doing, I let go abruptly and step back, crossing my arms. A chill prickles my flesh, and I wish now that I’d not stripped quite so many layers in such a rush.
“Please, Valtar,” I say softly, rubbing my upper arms, “tell me the truth. What do you really expect to get out of this whole sorry business?” I flick a glance up at him and find him studying his wounded hand. “You cannot truly want to fight other men for the right to claim a stranger for your wife,” I persist. “Unless you somehow believe in this absurd quest to kill the Dragon Queen.”
“No,” he admits. “I do not think the Dragon Queen will be so easily destroyed. Certainly not by you.”
“There! We agree on something at least.” I tilt my head to one side. “So why are you here then? Be honest with me.”
“I was sent.”
“Sent by whom?”
“My superiors.”
“And have these same superiors also obligated you to be as mysteriously obscure as you can possibly manage? Is all this”—I wave a hand vaguely, taking in his tall, foreboding frame—“enigmapart of a contracted arrangement?”
For a moment, there’s a flicker of unease in his eye, but it’s gone so quickly, I may have imagined it. “I wish I could be wholly honest with you,” he says slowly, choosing his words, “but there are some things which I simply cannot say.”
“Why not?”
He swallows. Then: “My brother’s life is at risk.”
I blink at him. His words seem to rattle in my head for some moments before finally slotting into grooves of understanding. “Oh,” I breathe. Suddenly, I remember what he’d said during our first meeting—about the two princes of Inithana, one of whom chose to serve Mhoryga. “And…and who exactly is threatening your brother?”
His gaze sidles away from mine. “There are factions of the old noble families of Inithana who still resist the Dragon Queen’s rule.”
I nod slowly, filling in the blanks of what he does not say. “So you are here against your will. Forced to compete for my hand and the dubious honor of accompanying me on a hopeless quest, all for the sake of your captive brother.”
“Something like that.”
“I’m…so sorry.”
“Why?”
I look down at my hands, my fingers twisting togethernervously. I’d not intended to tell him. Even now, I must wonder at the wisdom of the impulse rising in my heart. But knowing what I do, how can I let him continue? He’s been honest with me; surely I owe him honesty in return.
“I hope you will be able to save your brother without…without winning the trial.”
“Iwillwin the trial.”
The emphasis he places on the word is subtle and yet unmistakable. I wince, almost losing courage to continue. “No,” I say. “You won’t. Because just as soon as I can figure out how, I’m getting out of here.”
He is silent. Silent and completely devoid of all reaction. I count at least ten breaths before I can summon the courage to glance up, to look him in the eye. “Just as you were sent against your will, so was I brought here against mine. They came for me in the night, took me away from…from everyone I know, and…and I don’t even know where I am. I mean, yes, of course, they’ve told me all about the history of this place and assured me how safe and impenetrable it is. But they put a sack over my head for the last four days of the journey here. And no matter what I say, no matter what I do, they will not listen. And they will not let me go.”
Tears rise in my throat. I swallow them back, determined not to turn into a melting mess before this silent observer. “I didn’t ask for this. I could never be what they want me to be anyway. So, I’m telling you now that you’re here under false pretenses. There is no prize, no ultimate honor or victory to be won. It’s all a sham.”
Valtar moves slightly, the barest shifting of weight on his feet. It’s enough to make me jump back like a frightened rabbit, but his face remains as rigid and unreadable as ever. “And how,” he says at last, “do you plan to manage this escape?”
I lick my dry lips. “The details are…forthcoming.”
“I see. And what will you do when you have gotten free?”
