Her brow twisted. “Sorry for what?”
He flinched. “I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have done that. He deserved it, but that’s not me. Mariah gets to mete out his punishment; I overstepped.”
Ciana took a tentative step forward. To his shock, a smile quivered at the edge of her lips.
“Honestly, it’s about damn time someone beat the shit out of him. I’m personally thrilled that the first one to do so was you. Maybe one day, I’ll be brave enough to get my turn.”
Some of his shame fell away, amusement rising in its place. “I’m afraid of what you would do to that bastard if given the chance, Goldie.”
Her smile faltered, the ends of her hair swirling. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I am, too.”
They held each other’s stare for a long moment. Sebastian softly cleared his throat then glanced down at himself. He suppressed a groan. His once-clean shirt was now splattered with blood, and he suspected the rest of him was, too.
“I need to clean myself up,” he said, turning toward the main oasis pools.
“There are water canteens in the tent,” Ciana said, almost shyly. “And extra towels and clothes.” She tried—and failed—to tame the wild mass atop her head, before her hands twisted together through the blanket.
Her nervous tick.
“Okay.” Warmth blooming in his chest, Sebastian followed her back to the tent.
They were silent as she dampened the towels and wiped the blood from his face and neck. Silent as he slipped off his dirtied cotton shirt and buttoned on a clean one, trying his best to ignore the way her amber eyes seared his skin. Silent as too many feelings he couldn’t afford to voice swirled through his mind, feelings he clamped down so hard on he nearly bit his tongue.
Eventually they returned to the pallet, side by side as they stared at the roof of the tent.
He finally found his voice.
“You’ll always be my friend, Ciana,” he whispered into the silence. She didn’t react beside him, her chest rising and falling with her breaths. “And as your friend, I’ll always protect you.” Even as he said it, he couldn’t stop himself from remembering the feel of her soft, full lips on his. The way her honeysuckle scent wrapped so beautifully around him, how sweet she’d tasted on his tongue.
Not a memory that typical friends would share.
He knew he shouldn’t, especially with Lucas’s foul words still racing through his mind, but Sebastian couldn’t stop himself from wondering how sweet the other parts of her were, what every inch and curve of her tasted like?—
“Yes. Always asfriends.” She exhaled heavily before rolling to her side, putting her back to him.
Oh, he was sofucked.
Chapter 12
Mariah, once again, couldn’t sleep.
She tossed and turned on the soft mattress, the light sheets twisting around her legs.
Trapped, trapped, trapped…
She bolted up, heart pounding. A bead of sweat dripped down her temple. It was just before dawn, only the barest hint of purple tinging the otherwise dark sky.
Mariah released a sigh, struggling to calm her racing heart. Tensions remained high after the Elders had left yesterday. Quentin brought up a cask of wine from Amasis’s cellars, but even that hadn’t been enough to chase the looming shadows away. Rulene had bought them a temporary peace, but how long would that truly last?
Untangling herself from the cotton sheets, Mariah slipped from bed. She padded to the dresser, slipping into her usual leggings and a loose-fitting shirt. Her dagger was strapped to its familiar place on her thigh as she quietly opened her door into the silent hallways of theserekah.
It truly was so quiet. This was not a palace with servants awake at all hours or guards taking turns at their shifts. This was a manor house, and the only people there were Amasisand Mariah’s court. Even the others who’d fled with her court from Verith—Mikael, the seamstress Brie, and Ryenne’s ladies—had taken up residence in a few neighboringserekahsand apartments.
Mariah snuck down the stairs, heading for the kitchens. The room was still warm and fragrant from dinner. She grabbed a basket hanging on a hook and filled it with a leftover loaf of fresh-baked bread, some assorted fruits, and a few wedges of spiced goat cheese.
“Where are you going?”
She froze, releasing two plums into the basket with a thud. Matheo must have been on watch that night, and based on his deep yawn, he was either finishing his shift or just starting it. Turning slowly, she lifted the basket, giving him a weakly sheepish grin.
