His other hand lifted to cup my head, holding it in place as he rubbed. “As you know, I led a group of mercenaries. We planned our attack for a long time.”
“When you weren’t planning, what were you doing?”
Harthon didn’t falter. “We hunted and killed those who needed to be hunted and killed. There was little outside of that.”
“And what determined whoneededto be killed?”
“Multiple factors.”
“Callen, North, and Ana. Were they with you then?”
Cool water brushed my forehead. “Cal and North, yes. Ana came later,” he answered.
Again, my mind wandered to the possibility that he and Ana were lovers. The question rolled to the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t ask. Who he had relations with was not my concern or business.
He pulled away, dropping the cloth into the water. His eyes tracked over my body. “Are you sure you aren’t hurt anywhere else?”
I pushed myself off the backrest. “Just bruises.”
With a frown, Harthon stood. “You’ll need energy for tomorrow. Rest tonight. If you need anything, knock on my door.”
To do that, I’d have to enter the hallway. “Will there be a guard outside my door tonight?”
“No, just at the ends of the hallway to prevent intruders,” he said, stunning me speechless.
My mouth opened and then closed. I’d just attempted to escape, and rather than locking me down, he was giving me the free, unfettered ability to walk out of my door.
Seeing my confusion, he explained, “If I want you to trust me, I need to trust you.”
I stared at him with wide eyes as he walked toward the entryway. He shouldn’t trust me. Merelda was still my priority. If this dragged on for much longer, I would be running again. I only needed to wait until I was trained enough to survive.
“Harthon,” I blurted as he swung the door open.
He stopped.
Thank you, I wanted to say. And then I remembered that I’d only needed his help because he’d taken me. So I shut my mouth, letting silence hang.
Harthon nodded once and closed the door.
* * *
Someone shook me awake. I opened my eyes to see my mother, her brown eyes wild.
“Get up, Etarla,” she whispered frantically.
My father was a flash of movement behind her. Screams came from outside, followed by the smell of smoke.
“We need to gonow,” he said, and I was dragged out of bed, wondering what was happening.
My mother shoved a dress over my head and shoved me toward my father.
He opened the door, stepped out, and immediately came back in, face pale. “They saw me. We can’t outrun them. Hide her.”
His face never got pale.
I turned around to see my mother throwing clothes out of a chest.
“Get in here,” she said. There were tears on her face.
