“Mayah,” Tairna greets, her eyes crinkling. “Another late shift at the infirmary?”
“Yeah.” I force a laugh. “Tumaas needs to keep a better eye on wayward children in the forge.”
There are two open chairs: one by Rycken, a quiet but pleasant man in his forties, and one by Zev. I bite my lip and head toward the seat by Rycken, but Zev yanks out the one beside him with a low grunt.
My steps falter. Biting my lip, I change my trajectory midway and settle in beside my husband. He doesn’t spare me another glance.
“The Volcans arrive this week,” Tairna continues. “We need to be ready to attack.”
“We—Arbinj has a base near the coast,” Zev rumbles, pointing to the worn map unfurled across the desk. “There are at least a thousand men stationed. Will the Volcans have enough soldiers?”
Lantern light glints off his thick iron cuff, the metal scraping against the table. I glance at my own wrists. Tairna removed my cuffs days ago, and I’ve been healing in the infirmary ever since, alternating shifts with one other healer and two nonwielding medics. But despite being Tairna’s son, the Dark Commander wasn’t given the same grace.
I absently drag my thumb over my bare ring finger. Since that night at the dance, I’ve spoken to Zev only a handful of times—always during meetings with Tairna. The few times I’ve seen him outside of that, it’s somehowalwayswhen Tumaas has pulled me into a giant bearhug. Zev disappears quickly after that.
I sleep alone and wake alone—on the nights Zevdoesspend in our room, he folds himself onto the small sofa after I’ve already fallen asleep. I only know he’s been there by the neatly folded blanket and lingering smoke-and-pine scent.
Something sharp and desperate andanguishedclaws at my ribs, in the space where my heart used to be. But I have no one to blame but myself for this gaping hole in my chest.
“And this base?” Tairna asks, jolting me from my thoughts. She points to another spot on the map, further inland.
Zev scratches his stubbled jaw. “Five hundred men.” He frowns. “No. Less after the last Rebellion attack. Four hundred.”
Tairna stares at him, then glances at her advisers. Rycken shrugs one broad shoulder while Lyzza shakes her head, chocolate-brown curls fluttering.
“We didn’t attack that base,” Tairna says, a deep crease etched between her brows.
A beat passes in utter silence.
“That can’t be,” Zev says, scowling. “There were at least three attacks on Arbinji bases within the last month. Armored nonwielders. It looked like Rebellion…” He trails off, his sharp eyes cutting sideways to me.
My stomach drops.
His knuckles flare white. Tension brackets his jaw, and he turns away so quickly that his neck cracks.
Tairna doesn’t seem to understand my treachery as quickly.
I hesitate, licking my lips. “My father staged those attacks. To draw Zev away from the palace. So that I could…” I struggle to find the words, shrinking under Rycken and Lyzza’s shrewd appraisal.
Understanding slowly dawns on Tairna’s face. Zev must have told her everything.
What I did. What I was planning to do.
“That’s in the past,” she says, her voice firm. “We’re all on the same side now.” Her stern gaze travels around the table but settles longest on her son.
She rustles the map, clearing her throat loudly, but that doesn’t ease the heavy tension blanketing the room.
“Yes, the Volcans will have enough soldiers,” she continues, dark eyes leveled on Zev. “I’ll send a message to my men in both palaces. They’ll be ready.”
Zev doesn’t say a word, doesn’t move, doesn’t even take a breath. He just keeps staring at the map, eyes cold and blank.
“That’s all for today,” Tairna says softly, concerned gaze fixed on the stormy man beside me.
Everyone rises, chairs scraping against the quiet, but she rests her hand on Zev’s shoulder. “Stay a moment.”
I linger, weight shifting between my feet, hands wringing together as Rycken and Lyzza file out of the room withmurmured goodbyes. Tairna gives me another warm smile, but this time, it’s a dismissal.
The threadbare sheets scratch against my legs as I nestle beneath the covers. Sura helped me scrounge clothing from around the camp, including two indecently short nightgowns. And if I alternate wearing them every night in the hopes that Zev might see me, well, that’s no one’s business but my own.
