Head tilting, I teased, "Wouldn't you like to know."
His smile hardened, that wicked gleam entering his eyes. "I prefer a woman who enters my bed not to have another man on her mind, little menace."
He was so close now, his chest nearly touching my own. I had to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact as I said casually, teasingly, "And I prefer a man who spills his secrets over pillowtalk instead of promises of eventualities."
"What about your secrets?" He murmured back, eyes searching mine. "Would you uncover those in the dark of the night too?"
My heart stalled, the shadows stirring within me at the question, responding to the sudden inkling of fear.
The answer was, of course, no. I wouldn't. I never could, but there was a small part of me that yearned to. It sang in the back of my mind to trust him, to let another in. And that small desire was what terrified me most.
The tension was broken when Rena approached. "Let me see your arm, Roan."
He stepped back as I cleared my throat, turning my back to them as that golden light healed the burn on him, my steps swiftly taking me to Kairen and Bran.
Yet even as they spoke, my attention kept drifting back to Roan.
Would it truly be so terrible to let him fully know me?
He was more now than just the Kinslayer. No longer was he but a scary tale told in late night taverns, a Luanthian turned monster, the King's murderous pet.
No, he wasn't that.
He had been kind, patient in our training together. He had defended me against the vicious words of Aldrin McCay and had let me fight my own battle against Taven. He had broken with me after that second trial, had laid his own pain bare for me to see, and had been fearful of my judgement. No, he certainly wasn't a monster. A broken man? Perhaps, but there was nothing monstrous about him.
Yet, could I trust him with my own secrets?
That I didn't yet know.
Chapter Twenty Six
The desert was a torturous hellscape of burning heat.
I figured I could have slid right off Aziza with the sweat that ran down my body, if it wasn’t for the ridged saddle keeping me in place. I imagined waving them on to leave me upon the sand, for I couldn't go any further. A girl lost to sand, sun, and the burning of my muscles. A poetic end, truly. For I’d burn either way, whether it was a stake or the desert flame.
Gianni, for all his friendly demeanor, kept a brutal pace.
We were three days into the journey, merely one more night, and then half a day of riding and we’d be at Beshmel. A little town built purely for desert travel, merely existing for those passing through to take a break and restock their supplies. Gianni had stated that it only consisted of an Inn, a few homes for those that worked there, and a little market for their needs or the occasional baubles.
I didn't give a shit how small it was as long as the Inn had baths. Sand streaked down my tan skin—now darker and far morefreckled—from mixing with sweat. My lips cracked with each inhale and my throat felt as though it was made of shattered glass, cutting and burning me from the inside.
I would take a life of seafaring over this any day. I shifted, attempting to alleviate the ache of my thighs as Aziza moved quickly. I would have to thank Gianni for recommending the quick-footed Tolokok. We glided over the sand with ease and they moved as if sharing one mind.
Even through the misery, I couldn't deny the beauty of the desert, the vast open space and rolling sand dunes.
Our first night I had marveled at the open sky, my eyes hardly able to take in the shimmering expanse. And when we woke the next morning to the early pink of the rising sun, my breath had been stolen once more.
We took breaks every few hours to stretch our sore muscles and to take small sips from the canteens, but it never lasted more than ten minutes before Gianni was rushing us back atop the Tolokoks. He claimed the desert to be unsafe, never allowing anyone to sit still for too long until the cover of night fell upon us. Why it was safe for us to camp in one spot for the night, but unsafe to sit for too long in the day, I didn't know.
I had tried asking him that first night, but he had merely shook his head and said, "The desert is filled with many things we do not wish to encounter. We don't rest until the night falls and covers us from the threats that roam here."
It was reminiscent of Antoni's warning to be careful of the creatures that roamed the desert and I didn't ask again. I wasn’t entirely sure if I evenwantedto know.
We travelled in relative silence for most of the days, all too exhausted and sore for idle conversations.
When the blazing sun fell beneath the horizon and the stars began to shine, I could have cried when Gianni called for a stop. We all slid from the saddles, falling into routine as we quickly unpacked the supplies. Mylegs shook as I set up camp, fingers fumbling with the fabric that would cover me in the night.
I let out a breath of relief when Roan approached, taking over, his hands quick and familiar with the set up. After he was finished I crawled inside the structure with a quiet thank you, dragging my bags after me. I was quick to rip open the bag that contained my potions. Neat little rows of vials staring back, cushioned between swaths of fabric. My fingers dug out six of the hydration and nutrient replenishing potions.
