For a long moment, they both remained silent, Lory’s gaze glued to Falcrest’s face as he lifted his head again to expose that same emotion she’d witnessed on the roof: Fear. Khayrivven Falcrest was afraid.
“It doesn’t matter that they’ll kill me.” Lory shook her head. “Since the night Evven died, I’ve been prepared to follow him.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Lory.”Lory—notVednis, notashling, notGutter Gem.“They won’t kill you right away. First, they’ll try to wring information from you—anything that will help them find more Flame-born and kill them. By the end, you’ll be begging me to kill you.”
The raw emotion in his tone took her by surprise so much she scrambled to her feet, staggering toward him and holding onto the steel bars separating them.
“I don’t have anyone to give up. My mother’s dead, and so is my brother. What few people I might considerfriendshave already given their loyalty to Ashthorn and, by that, to King Ulder. They can’t hurt me.”
“Trust me, they can. And they will.” Falcrest held his breath, reaching for her hand and wrapping his fingers around hers, but his expression smoothed over enough to convince her this wasn’t fear speaking but experience.
Lory’s heart stuttered in her chest, the cold replaced by a lick of fire across her skin, and Lory remembered that she had something to lose after all. It might not be much, just a blossom of feelings for a man whose guarded emotions would never allow him to admit there was something between them, but it was more than she’d ever had with any man. Every touch was a reminder she was still alive, and his presence here, that he’d come to see her before they’d execute her?—
“Don’t interpret anything into my being here, Lory. It’s not real. This is a dream, and when you wake up, you’ll stand trial before the Triad. It doesn’t mean anything.”
But he was wrong. It did. To her, it meant the world that she wasn’t alone in this cell, even if he was merely in her imagination.
“A dream,” she repeated. “If this is only a dream, tell me the kiss was real. Tell me I found something real in this shithole of an academy.”
Falcrest’s mouth tipped up at the corner, but his half-smile didn’t touch his eyes. “Nothing I could say or do will change anything, so I won’t burden you with truths.” His thumb brushed over her knuckles as if to reassure himself she was still there. “I won’t give you a secret to reveal under torture, and I won’t give you anything to cling to when your body is ready to break.” His eyes shut, the light of the torches throwing shadows over his face, and his lashes, a pair of thick, silken half-moons, fluttered against his cheek. “Most of all, I won’t give you any regrets.”
As he turned away, she could have sworn she spotted resolve on his harsh, beautiful features.
Through the bars, Lory reached for him, her fingers grazing his hand just long enough to bemoan the loss of his touch as he continued into the shadows.
When she sank back into darkness, Lory’s heart was full of regrets, top of them that she had never told Khayrivven Falcrest that he had ignited a piece of her soul that she hadn’t believed existed.
When Falcrest enteredthe dungeon for real, he was the third of three armed men, one of them carrying a set of manacles connected with a heavy chain, while the other was carrying a bucket from which fog was rising. She didn’t care to wonderwhat it contained; she’d find out soon enough. All she could focus on was Khayrivven’s stony face as he halted in front of her cell, holding out his hand in a silent prompt for the man with the manacles. The guard placed the heavy iron in the captain’s open palm, while his focus remained on Lory like she was a threat, even crumpled on the ground like this.
“I hope you’re hungry, Vednis,” Khayrivven said by way of greeting, in no way resembling the creature who’d abandoned her in her dream.
Lifting her head from where she was still lying on the ground, Lory shook it. In reflex, one arm wrapped around her middle, anxious to hold together the pieces of her, threatening to fall apart at the sight of her biggest regret.
“Too bad.” He flashed a heartless grin. “They promised to give you one last meal before the trial.”
How could he shut out all emotion like that? How could he pretend he didn’t care in the slightest? Or was that Lory’s mistake? Had the dream been a real dream rather than one woven by him? Had he never actually said all those things? Wasthisthe real Khayrivven Falcrest, who had finally come to end her?
Something told her it was an act as much as his part as the steel-hearted captain who delivers ashlings for slaughter at the second bell every morning.
“I’d rather die with an empty stomach, thank you very much.” Despite all efforts, she couldn’t make it sound like a joke. “No regrets, remember?”
There—just a hint of emotion crossed his features, flashed like lightning at a great distance, and vanishedbehind the facade he kept up so expertly. But she’d spotted it, and now, Lory Vednis knew that she wasn’t alone.
She might be going to her death, but she was not alone. When her body was broken and shattered, one person would know the truth, and if Thal or Tabi or Jarek dared ask, he might tell it. Or Aiden.
Something heavy settled in her stomach, the knowledge that she’d lied in her dream.
Even when they’d all seen her fire magic and were already loyal to Ashthorn and Ulder, they were still her friends, and she doubted that someone who feared the Flame-born as much as the King of Brestolya did would leave any means untested in order to get her to spill her secrets.
Khayrivven knew. And he hadn’t given her anything. Not one word that she might babble under duress.
“Stand up and hold out your hands.” His tone was smooth, unbothered, like they hadn’t shared a kiss that set her on fire. Like he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her despite all those words of not caring.
Lory did as she was told, swaying on her feet for a moment as she faced him, and Khayrivven didn’t lift a finger to catch her. Instead, he handed the key back to the man and took the manacles.
“No tricks, no magic. Am I clear?” The manacles clicked around her wrists, cutting into her skin like a bite of ice.
“Did you store these in the cooling basement?” Again, she failed to make it sound like a joke.
