Well, not the only question after all.
As the hour passed, Lory slept more than she was awake, but Khayrivven didn’t return to her dreams. Instead, Lenya, Brunn, and Ycken danced with white-hot pokers around her, herding her into a corner like common cattle. Whenever she woke, Aiden was there, his features less bruised every time she opened her eyes, but he looked so tired, as if he’d spent all his energy cooling her burns rather than taking care of himself.
When she finally managed to stay awake long enough to eat some of the soup sitting a few feet away on the floor, Aiden reached under her waist and heaved her into a sitting position, careful to keep Anees’s scarf around her chest.
“I’m sorry.” Lory barely recognized her voice after what felt like days of not speaking, when it couldn’t have been more than one.
She’d taken the ice chips Aiden provided, let him slip them into her mouth to sustain her strength. She hadn’t just sold her soul and gotten herself branded, only to die from dehydration in what seemed to be part of the infirmary; Lory recognized the smell of herbs, and through the door, she’d spotted a shelf of bandages.
“There is nothing to be sorry about.” The cut on Aiden’s lip looked better, but it was still swollen and his neck still bruised.
“Lenya tortured you because of me.”
Silence. The thin light trickling in through the high-up window spoke of a moonless night, and Lory could have sworn, in the near-darkness, the world appeared a bit less unfair than in broad daylight when not a hint of shadows could hide in the corner of this world.
“I’ve endured worse.” Aiden wiped his hand over the scruff of hair on his usually so cleanly shaved head. On his jaw, a thin layer of white-blonde beard had grown, the color so unusual in Brestolya she wondered if the Guardians had dropped him in this world merely to mock him.
Worse than that? Lory couldn’t even imagine what his life must have been like before he joined Ashthorn… Or had he endured worse here, at the academy? Something feral paced in Lory’s chest at the thought of Lenya or anyone else laying a hand on Aiden.
“Tell me who, and I’ll fry them.”
A chuckle broke from Aiden’s throat. “I’ll let you fry them once I’ve frozen them.” He reached for the bowl, sliding it closer, and picked it up, guiding it to Lory’s mouth. “Here, drink this. It will give you some energy. You’ve been in and out of consciousness for over twenty-four hours after already being locked up for two days in the dungeons. If you go a minute longer without food, you might very well see your brother again before your time.”
Lory didn’t hesitate to drain the entire bowl, gulping down its contents without taking a break to breathe.
“Falcrest said he’d check in later today, but for now, it’s important he keeps his distance.” The way he said it was too casual not to be deliberate.
Lory wasn’t proud of the pang of jealousy in her gut.
“He said that to you? Since when does the Veiled Hand share his secrets with a common criminal?” Her included, but she didn’t say that, because what he’d shared in her dream had shaken her to the core.Flame-born…She wasn’t alone. And he had survived Ashthorn and even climbed in ranks. But at what cost? What did he have to do to prove his loyalty? And was that why he hadn’t told her a single thing before leading her to the trial, to make sure she couldn’t spill to the Triad that he’d told the unmentionable to a mere ashling? To protect himself from what would happen if they figured out he trusted her with such delicate information?
“Among other things.” He took the bowl from her hands, helping her to lie back down on her stomach.
“What things?”
“Like that the Medica Hand didn’t heal you with magic so the scar would remain.” Aiden ignored the tears springing to Lory’s eyes. “Like he’s never seen anyone climb or move the way you did when you leaped off the balcony to save Thal and Jarek.” A hint of devastation crossed his features. “Honestly, Lory. What were you thinking?”
Lory bit down hard on her lower lip, images of Thal dangling from the crumbling bridge intruding on her memory until that familiar panic filled her head to toe, blocking out all pain surfacing where Aiden’s ice slowly left her ruined flesh. “That—” Her words were choked by a sob. “I couldn’t let them die.”
Aiden’s nod of understanding soothed her sore heart more than any medicine could. “Just as I couldn’t have letyou die.” With a touch of pain, he shifted, tugging at the collar of his shirt where the seam dug into his bruises.
Lory held her breath, searching Aiden’s face for the hint of a lie, but he meant it, and the affection shimmering in the glacial blue was so similar to the way Evven had looked at her that her heart ached all over again. “What do you mean?”
“I swore my loyalty to Falcrest the day I was brought to Ashthorn Ward. When he found me, I was nearly dead, and had it not been for him, the city guards would have executed me without a trial. He stopped them, brought me to Ashthorn, and made sure I was back on my feet before I faced trial.”
A tremor ran through Lory’s hand as she steadied herself. “He saved you?”
“Just as he savedyou.” Aiden shrugged. “He didn’t even need to ask me not to spill the secret of your magic—and when he pulled you out of the training room and carried you to the Medica Hand.”
She’d seen people comply with Falcrest’s orders out of fear, had done so herself. That he inspired loyalty because of the person he was, was new to her.
“He helped you?” It wasn’t really a question. “He has been looking out for you ever since you came to Ashthorn?”
Aiden bobbed his head, and Lory really wanted to sit up so she could look him straight in the eye as she asked, “You’re telling me he’s actually a decent person?”
A grin flickered across Aiden’s features. “Oh, he’s ruthless all right. He’s everything you think he is and then some.”
Rolling as far to the side as her aching shoulder allowed, Lory studied him. “Sounds like you’re in love.”
