The general’s lips tease the lobe of my ear, and he whispers just loud enough for her to hear, “Do you believe her?”
Is he really asking me? I turn my head and meet his eyes. But he already knows the answer. I didn’t believe him because of her and what she said to me.
He kisses the bridge of my nose and says softly, “Neither do I.”
“Kishek,” the general calls.
The male must have been waiting for the summons as he’s in the room before I’ve even seen him coming through the door.
“Are there any empty cells in the barracks?” the general asks.
“Many,” Kishek says with an all too eager smile.
“You can’t be serious,” Siserie scoffs, “It was a harmless prank. I am no spy. I didn’t even read it!” She points at the folded paper, discarded by the general.
“You misunderstand me completely,” the general assures her.
She lets out a relieved sigh. “Thank you, Xeyvian.”
“I’m not sending you to the barracks for the missive you stole,” he says, “Despite the fact that it is the property of the crown. I’m sending you there because you robbed me of two days I will never get back withmi’ajna.”
What is happening?
Even Kishek looks shocked, his eyes bulging at the declaration.
“Let me make myself perfectly clear, Siserie,” the general lowers his tone in warning, “If you ever break into my chambers again, I will send you to Brax. And if you ever interfere with Shivaria again, in any way that she or I find distasteful, I will have Riesh bind your gift and ship you off to La’tari.”
She pales at the last and even I find it a little harsh. I have no doubt it would be a death sentence in either case. Kishek claps his hand around her arm and drags her out of the room, the thick wood of the door he closes behind them muffling her protests. I puff out a breath, rolling my shoulders. At least now I know the male isn’t in league with her family. It could have proved a difficult complication considering all I learned at their estate.
The general turns me to face him, tucking a stray curl behind my ear when he says, “I’ll leave the duration of her punishment up to you.”
My brows shoot up and I briefly debate refusing the offer, before thinking better of it. He is making me a gift of her punishment, for the way that she treated me. It won’t kill her to stay in a cell for a few days, though I’m not entirely sure whether she will be serving the general’s sentence or my own.
He meets my eyes with a gentle but determined stare. “There is no one else. I swear it.”
I break his gaze, my eyes falling to the floor thoughtfully and perhaps under the weight of a small amount of shame. I tell myself that he has given me plenty of reason not to trust him, then remind myself that none of it matters. My excuses are gone, and he is a direct line to the king, to fulfilling my mission.
“Stay with me tonight?” he asks.
I find my body tense as I reconsider his offer, unsure of exactly what it is he is asking for, and still entirely unsure how much I’m willing to give the male.
“I have no expectations of you,” he assures me, and I wonder when I became so easy for him to read. “I’d just like to have you to myself for a little while.”
“I thought I didn’t have a choice,” I snark, “The La’tari ship—”
“I can make arrangements with Awri if you’d rather not sleep here again.” He sounds like he regrets the words even as they slide off his tongue,and I can’t help but wonder if he could have made those same arrangements last night.
“Just sleep?” I ask.
He nods. “I’m not asking for more.”
The thwack of knuckles against the tall panels of the door draws his attention from me.
“Just, consider it, please,” he says, before reluctantly removing me from between his thighs and moving toward the door.
Awri sweeps in, offering me a cheerful smile, and my eyes snag on her leathers. Not just the leather pants she’d acquired from the stables for our hunt, but a tall pair of leather boots, the same as my own, are laced tightly around her calves. Over the top of her cobalt dress, she wears a dark cuirass. Her hair is braided and wound into a tidy spiral on the back of her head, enhancing the sharp lines of her features and the pointed tips of her ears. She looks fit for battle.
She giggles after a thorough examination of my face and waves a young man in. He offers me a stack of folded leather and my toes curl in delight, bunching up the thick furs beneath my feet. It’s a reaction I don’t take time to consider when I push my nose against them and breathe in the scent of home, of me.
