As friendly and kind as Sebastian was, he was still a trained warrior. There had to be a hot-blooded streak in there somewhere.
“I appreciate what you’re doing, Seb,” Ciana said softly. “But this doesn’t have to be done right now.”
His fingers twitched as if wanting to reach out for her, but he held himself still. “I told him he would be dealt with when we reached Desva. Now here we are. I keep my promises, Ciana.”
“You don’t think his beat-in face and concussion was punishment enough?”
Sebastian cocked an eyebrow but held his lips in a firm line. “Not in the slightest.”
“Ciana.” A hand touched her shoulder. She met Mariah’s softened stare. “Tell me what happened. Please.”
Ciana sighed. Why had she chosen to surround herself with such protective assholes?
Memories flitted through her mind. Dark memories. Suppressed memories.
Lucas’s words at the campsite. The way he’d followed her, too stupid to realize she was no longer alone and helpless.
She had people who were willing to stand up for her now. It was all she’d ever wanted.
Something dark twisted in her. Those people—the ones whom she refused to share a name with, even if society told her she should—were not her family. All they’d ever done was hurt her. She owed them no loyalty.
These two, though? The warrior and the queen?
This was the only family she needed now.
Ciana lifted her chin and spoke.
Ciana stood beside Mariah,fidgeting with her hands.
The Onitan refugees watched them with curious, guarded eyes. Priam had vanished, but Rulene and Callamus lingered back with Amasis and the other Kreah representatives. Ciana didn’t miss how Mariah’s fingers grazed the hilt of her dagger, nor how she rolled her shoulders to shift the short swords crossed behind her back.
“I know you have all traveled far. Accommodations are being readied for you as we speak. I have seen them myself; you will be comfortable and safe here.” Mariah paused, fingers curling.
“But before I can show you to your new temporary homes, I must see the Blaise family.”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, the Onitans sharing furtive glances. Mariah’s request floated back through the refugees, the occasional whisper of “Blaise” and “Sir Leon” drifting up from the throng.
Ciana ground her teeth. Whatever respect these people thought was owed to her stepfather was sorely misplaced.
For the first time in her life, she was ready to stand up against it.
The crowd slowly parted, and the Blaise family stepped forward. Leon came first, barrel chest puffed proudly. Ciana’s mother was behind him, pale hair twisted regally atop her head despite the days they’d spent traveling.
Then there was Lucas. Even now, the sight of him sent a thrill of fear through Ciana, a sick and conditioned reaction to the face that had hunted her since childhood.
It was nice this time, though, considering that same face was bruised and smashed almost beyond recognition. Sebastian shifted, as if realizing once again exactly the damage he’d caused.
Ciana caught his gaze, giving him a small smile. He returned it quickly, then turned back to her approaching family.
Right. No smiling. This was time for business.
“What is the meaning of this?” Leon blustered. He marched forward, face red and angry, beady eyes darting furiously between Mariah and Ciana. “Our family has suffered an injustice, and that littlebitchthere must be put in her place?—”
He halted, stopped by the sharp blade of a longsword against his neck. Ciana realized somewhat belatedly that Sebastian was no longer beside her, that it was his sword now at Leon Blaise’s neck.
Seriously, whowashe?
“Leon Blaise.” Mariah drew out the syllables of his name. “I must say, I’ve been quite eager to meet you. I’ve heard so manyinterestingstories about you and your family.”
