Aiden’s grin widened. “Not with him.” And a laugh broke out of him as he noticed Lory’s horrified expression. “Not with you either. You’re more like a really annoying sibling.” His nose crinkled in the perhaps most open smile he’d ever given her.
A breath of relief filled Lory’s chest, returning in a muffled sigh. “Spoken like a real brother I never asked for.”
They shared a long look, the knowledge that they were in this—whatever it was—together settling deeper.
“Now, who are you in love with?” It was worth a try.
Aiden shook his head. “Not a chance.”
Just as Lory lifted her hand to playfully swat his knee, a door opened behind her, and a pair of boots thudded into the room. Even without turning, she knew this wasn’t Khayrivven or Anees. They were both stealthier than that, even when they weren’t trying.
“The captain sends a meal for the Flame-born,” a deep male voice announced before the sound of metal clicking against stone and more footsteps retreating through the door.
As Aiden scrambled to his feet to get the tray, a shimmer of glacial blue magic glimmered around his fingers. He’d been ready to kill whoever came through that door; Lory could tell by the tension bracketing his mouth, to protect her—and because Khayrivven had told him to stay with her and keep watch.
It was an assumption, but after what she’d learned a mere minute ago, it wouldn’t surprise her if Aiden was on actual guard duty.
With eager fingers, Lory grabbed a piece of bread, ignoring the near-paralyzing pain in her shoulder as she pushedherself into a strong position. “So… what deep, dark secret is the captain hiding?” Lory attempted a conspiratorial grin, but Aiden shook his head.
“Apart from the obvious, that’s for him to tell.”
“The obvious?” Lory felt like one of those birds chattering in cages in the noble villas she’d robbed. People said they were from the south of Brestolya, near the coastline. Parrots.
“That he is honing already-criminal minds into special weapons for the kingdom.” Aiden’s eyes shuttered, his expression closing off as if he realized he might have said too much.
“Criminals like us.” Lory winced at the sharp pain in her shoulder as she plucked a grape from the plate between the bread basket and the jar of what looked like some sort of creamy cheese.
“Ask him.” Aiden meant it, too.
“And you think he’ll open up to me about his secrets?” Not a fucking chance.
But Aiden seemed to be of a different opinion. With long, ice-coated fingers, he reached for the jar, holding it up between them. “Don’t tell me he hasn’t visited your dreams.” The pale brow he raised said it all. “Falcrest has been having trouble sleeping lately, and trust me when I say you’re one of the reasons.”
A thin smile sought its way onto her face. “Oneof them?”
Aiden gently nudged the biceps on her good arm. “Hey, don’t get cocky, fire spitter. The captain has a whole unit to command. You can’t be the only thing he dreams about.”
The momentary lick of warmth in her chest was as much a surprise as it was a reminder of what she’d seen in Khayrivven’s face, his eyes.Morethan a coldhearted commander and yet the most fearsome of them all.
He’d held her fate in his hands before, but now, it was more than that. As Lory let the thought settle that Khayrivven might have helped her not just because he believed a power like hers was worth more if utilized for assassination than five feet below ground, her heart might very well be resting in those dangerous, powerful hands.
Khayrivven didn’t visither in her dreams again until he showed up exactly one week after Lenya had seared her flesh with the branding iron. As he opened the door to the plain, furniture-less room at the back of the infirmary, Aiden got to his feet from his usual spot by the wall under the window and left with a nod at the captain.
Lory wasn’t certain what sort of understanding passed between them as they marched past each other, but Aiden’s shoulders straightened an inch and Khayrivven’s chin dipped just noticeably, before he paced the length of the room once, coming to a halt with his back to where Lory was sitting by the wall across from the door, her good shoulder leaned against the cool stone to protect her injured one.
A familiar tension defined his posture, as if he was expecting her to attack, but he didn’t reach for the saber sheathed along his spine or the sword at his hip. Lory used the unobserved moment to study the lines of his tall frame, the powerful legs and muscled arms the loose-fitting uniformcouldn’t conceal. A small, silver knife peeked out of his boot, and a bracelet of black beads circumvented his wrist. And his shoulder… Right by the edge of the hilt of that beautiful saber, a barely visible branding was hidden, marking him as Flame-born.
In her chest, Lory’s heart hammered like a drum, but she forced down one calming breath after the other.
She forced herself to stop staring.
“It’s been a week,” Khayrivven opened without turning around, as if he couldn’t bear the sight of her, but his tone was casual as always.
Lory swallowed the dryness in her throat. At least, the thornlings specializing in Medica had taken her to a bathing room every other day, and behind a small door at the back of the room, she’d found a toilet. Aiden had helped her get there the first time, Guardians bless him.
Her plain, beige linen clothes were clean, and she didn’t smell like she’d been locked in a room for a week after spending two days in the dungeons.
“Feels longer.” Lory forced herself to stand up, finding her legs relatively stable for what she’d been through.
