But it wasn’t some indifferent kindness that she saw on his face, nor a tedious obligation. His look was keen and intense, surprisingly warm beneath his steel glaze. A whiff of personal interest lay at the bottom of it. For the first time in her life, she was flattered by a man measuring her up.
No, not flattered. She was intrigued.
“Take me with you,” she said abruptly, the words spilling from her mouth before her brain had the time to check them. “Let me join your retinue.”
His eyebrows shot up. “There’s nothing but war where I go now. With Echton’s help, we hope to break the siege of Myrit and push the Seragians back towards the coast. It will be months of campaigning, and I’m not even sure we stand a chance.” He rubbed a knuckle across his lower lip. His hands, elegant and long-fingered, were marred with chilblains and callused from fighting. “I shouldn’t be saying this, please don’t pass it to Echton.”
“You think we don’t stand a chance?”
He shook his head. “That’s just exhaustion speaking, ignore it.I’ll find a way to outmaneuver them.” He shot her a tired smile. “Mind you, allowing you to join me is no favor. It’s more like a punishment.”
“I don’t mind,” she said. This was no time to be humble. “I’m the deadliest archer you’ll ever see, and I can track and hunt down any animal or human without them ever noticing me. I’m sure I’ll be useful to you.”
“You’re no soldier, though. Would you rather risk your life down south, would you rather risk being caught and tortured by the Seragians or bleeding out slowly on a battlefield than ride through these forests? Gods know I need every ally I can get, but if your father were alive, he’d be furious with me for dragging you into mortal danger instead of making sure you had a good, peaceful life.”
Would he understand if she tried to explain it to him?
“This is not a good life,” she said. “This is a small life, secluded and meager. I am twenty-two and I feel all my options here are exhausted. My father went south and I want to follow him, but not to become a lady-in-waiting or someone’s wife.” She let out a mirthless chuckle. “I couldn’t hold a needle or soothe a child if my life depended on it. No, I want to go and fight.” She looked into his eyes. “I want to go where you go.”
A long silence followed her words, yet she felt something important had been communicated between them in that small room. All rank had been stripped away for a short instance, all the disparity in power evaporated. Two young people making plans, nothing more.
At last, he nodded slowly. “Fine. I’ll tell Echton you’re coming with me.” He rose and she jumped to her feet. “Is that all?”
She wanted to say yes, she opened her mouth, but her voice faltered. The idea of going back to her quarters, of answering her companions’ questions, of accommodating any mood Brano might choose to burden her with, seemed unbearable. The worldshe’d inhabited a couple of hours ago fell to pieces like an old, worn-out shirt, impossible to put back on.
His eyes studied her face while his fingers traced the embroidery on his collar. He seemed so serious and utterly composed, and yet…
“I don’t know,” she said at last. “Is it?”
It was risky and rash and downright impudent. He hadn’t given her a single inviting signal, the faintest hint of desire. She could have been embarrassing herself.
Still, they remained looking at each other until he cleared his throat and said, “Am I reading this completely wrong? Because if I am, you’re free to go, and all I’ve promised stands.”
She took one step towards him, then another. She had to lift her head a little to see his face. His body gave off heat and a faint scent of bergamot and leather.
“You’re not reading it wrong,” she said, dizzy with daring. “Also, it has nothing to do with the previous conversation, my plans, or your perceived debt. It just is.”
Liana had never seduced a man before. She never needed to. It had always been them chasing her, extorting a more or less enthusiastic response. It dawned on her now that she’d never really wanted any of them. Not like this, not with this wild urge to shatter his poise, get under that smooth surface and wreak havoc inside, light him up like a bonfire and make him cry out her name.
“It will be outrageously inconvenient,” he said. “And possibly demeaning and ruinous for you.”
She let out a raspy laugh. “I’m not some precious lady; the only reputation I need to protect is tied to the tip of my arrow. I’m free to do what I want, and what I want is this.”
She laid her hands on his shoulders, the sleek wool, the hard bones. A faint blush colored his cheeks and his breathing quickened as his arms slipped around her waist, drawing herclose. This slow fire of excitement in her stomach, the solid certainty of being in the right place, was new. Slowly, his lips found hers, an inquisitive brush growing into a kiss, hard and deep. She pushed her hips against his and closed her eyes.
A wave of icy water washed over her, sharp teeth biting the soft flesh of her mouth, hard hands gripping her body. Liana kicked blindly with all the strength she could muster.
The hands released her and she fell to the cold stone floor of the cell.
“That was a delicious memory,” Morana said. “Shame it never happened.”
The Goddess of Death stood before her, shrouded in silvery light, her long black hair moving although there was no wind to pick it up. She smiled at Liana, her mouth filled with sharp teeth.
“Get away from me,” Liana whispered.
“You should be careful what you wish for.” Morana’s eyes were deep like two wells, the golden glow in them only a faint flicker in an endless night. “Your past is no more and your future will never arrive. You’re stuck here, helpless and out of your depth, and if you make one more mistake, he’ll die.”
“Why do you care? You hate him.”
