“I didn’t expect you to be so popular,” he said, crouching down several times to stretch the cramps from his legs before daring to walk.
She watched them run off, a mass of conflicting emotions playing out on her face. “You’d be surprised how such a little thing can mean so much to these kids, especially after all the horrors they’ve witnessed since the spring.”
The pain in her voice tightened around his heart, making him wish in that instant he could have done something to change the past for both the children and for Zara. “I’m sorry.”
She turned back to him, her lips parted. “For what?”
“For not being here.” He kicked a stone, rolling it out of the path ahead of him. Guilt choked his throat as he continued, “For acting like a fool and chasing after my heart when my people needed me the most.”
She silenced him by placing her hand on his chest and looking up at him with those earnest gray eyes. “You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”
He covered her hand with his own, pressing it against his chest so she could feel the resolution that pounded through his body with the beat of his heart. “I am, thanks to you.”
He held her gaze until her cheeks filled with color and she looked away, sliding her hand out from under his. “Let me take you to Bynn,” she mumbled, staring at the ground as she turned around.
Cold seeped through the thick wool of his tunic, leaving gooseflesh over the part of his skin where her hand had just been. But he didn’t have time to ponder over his body’s puzzling reaction to Zara, not if he didn’t want to lose her in the crowds. He trotted behind her as she led him into the heart of the cove. The buildings here seemed older, sturdier, and more heavily fortified. It reminded him of the castle sitting high on top of the hill in Trivinus, surrounded by the circular walls of the city. If there was a leader to this group of rebels, he’d be found here.
Zara climbed up one of the rope ladders, the angle giving him a perfect view of how her leather breeches clung to the soft curves of her bottom. An appreciation for the female form—namely, hers—stirred inside him, reviving sensations he hadn’t experienced since he’d left Gravaria. He shook his head to clear them from his mind, the icy splash of anger dousing the heated desire warming his blood. His kingdom was under the control of invaders, and all he could think about was how much he’d like to press his best friend’s little sister’s body against his. It was something he might have gotten away with thinking a few years ago, but now he needed to stop thinking with the head in his pants and starting thinking with the head above his shoulders.
Of course, once business was done, there would be time for pleasure.
Just not with Zara, if her impatient glare from the top of the ladder was any indication.
He began climbing and realized with a start that he’d been thinking about lying with a woman other than Arden.
Is my heart so fickle that I’ve already forgotten about her?
When he reached the top, he took a moment to take in the view from the small deck that surrounded the hut. “I can see the whole camp from here.”
Zara nodded. “We’ve tried to make this place as secure as we can, even down to the ladders we can pull up if we’re attacked.”
“Good idea, but what if the Thallians bring saws?” He walked around the hut, visualizing the havoc that could be caused in this interconnected network of bridges and huts by one tree falling. “Also, maybe we could look into building some stairs that could be easily raised for the elderly and the younger children.”
And so I won’t be tempted to glance up a certain lady’s skirts when she climbs.
“You mean like drawbridges?” A valley formed above her nose, her gaze growing distant as she appeared to muddle over the idea. “It sounds plausible.”
“It’s more than plausible—it’s necessary.”
She turned back to him, a teasing grin on her full lips. “Did the climb leave you winded, old man?”
He gave her a playful swat on the back of the head like he’d done when they were children. “You forget I’ve been stuck on a prison ship for months.”
Her expression sobered. “Yes, but now you’re free, and I won’t have completed my mission until I’ve delivered you to Bynn.”
She led him to the door, knocking before entering the room. A cloth screen separated what looked like a small bed from the rest of the room. Otherwise, the interior of the hut rivaled his father’s office as command central. A round table circled the cropped tree trunk, covered with maps and letters. Another larger map hung on the wall with different colored pins placed around the kingdom. A wooden box of weapons overflowing with swords, knives, and arrows stood by the door.
A man stood by the table, his back to them, his clothes slightly better than the people below. “What is it?” he asked without turning around.
“Is that any way to greet an old friend?” Kell asked.
Bynn’s back tensed, his head jerking up. Then he turned around as though he was scared this was a cruel prank or a fragment of his imagination. A patch covered where his left eye had been, a fresh scar peeking out from under the fabric, but the other eye widened as he asked in a ghostly voice, “Kell?”
Regret stabbed at his soul when he saw his friend’s wounds. He quickly concealed his pity with a laugh. “Were you expecting someone else?”
Bynn stumbled forward a few steps. Then he lifted his arms and closed the space between them with a fierce hug. “Sweet Lady Moon, it really is you.”
Zara snickered. “I told you he was still alive.”
Bynn withdrew, his mouth still hanging open in disbelief. “I just—I mean, I never—” He cleared his throat and regained his composure. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you, Zara.”
“Perhaps you’ll pay more attention to what I have to say in the future.” She elbowed him in the ribs with just enough force to turn Bynn’s attention away from Kell. “Maybe now you can tell Fermo where he can go.”
“Fermo?” Kell had the distinct impression there was some important information they were withholding from him, but hopefully, it would be easier to pry out of Bynn than it was his sister.
They exchanged glances. A wordless conversation passed between them, ending when Zara shook her head. “I thought I’d let you fill him in on everything that happened. My mission was to bring him back alive, which I’ve done. Now, I’m looking forward to a cozy night in a warm bed.”
Would mine be acceptable?
The question jumped into Kell’s mind without warning, and he averted his eyed before either one of them could spy into his thoughts.
“Very well, Zara,” Bynn said with militaristic efficiency, “you’ve successfully accomplished your mission, but before you settle down for the night, I want you to clean your things out of your room and move in with Bianca.”
Now it was her turn to have her jaw drop, though judging by the red hue rushing into her cheeks, it wasn’t from shock. “But Bianca snores.”
“Prince Kell deserves his own room.”
“But it’s my room.”
Bynn had more balls than him because he came within mere inches of his irate sister and her easily reachable crossbow. “And I’m your blood. You will do what I say or risk the consequences.”
She rolled her eyes. “Being cast aside would be better than having to share a room with Bianca.”
Kell decided it was time to intervene. “Please, Zara, I apologize for any inconvenience my return has caused you, but don’t argue with your brother. Think about what it would do for the morale of the people below if they knew their leaders were quarreling. If it really bothers you, I’m sure I can find somewhere else to sleep.”
She turned to him, her color returning to normal, and her fist unrolling. “You have a valid point, Your Highness. The mission comes first. And you need a safe, quiet room where you can recuperate.” But that didn’t stop her from casting one more scathing glance back at her brother before slamming the door behind her.
“Don’t mind her, Kell.” Bynn ushered him toward one of the chairs and opened a bottle of wine. “She’s always had a hot temper, and this situation’s only made her more insufferable. Besides, she’s here so little of the time that she won’t be in the same room with Bianca for too many nights.”
“But in her defense, you let her lead missions, but then still hang the threat of casting her aside over her when she wants to keep her room, which she well deserves.”
“As do you, unless you’d like to share a room with Bianca.”
“I don’t know—is she easy on the eyes?”
Bynn wrinkled his nose. “Hardly. She’s Lord Horenco’s daughter, and the poor girl takes after him, nose and all.”
“Poor girl indeed,” Kell murmured, picturing Lord Horenco in a dress and quickly needing a gulp of wine to erase it.
His friend, however, swirled his wine around in his cup, lost in the vortex of the dark liquid. “So, how much has Zara told you?”
“Not nearly enough. I know the Thallians came over through the pass and hit Cordello first. I know they’ve been rounding up our people and forcing them into slavery. I know that there’s a rebellion against the Thallians led by you and Zara and other leaders scattered around the kingdom. And I know from the journey here that the land is in shambles. But other than that, I know nothing about my father or brothers or anything else.”
Bynn stopped swirling his glass, set it on the table, and turned his back to him.
Kell’s mouth went dry as his palms grew damp. “Tell me what happened to my family, Bynn.”
“They’re all dead, Kell.”
The news hit him like a blow to the gut, knocking the wind from his lungs. Black dots danced around the edges of his vision. For a brief second, he considered letting the blackness overtake him so he wouldn’t have to feel the pain building up around his chest and threatening to break free. For some incomprehensible reason, he’d clung to the hope that one of them had escaped the Thallians, that one member of his family was still alive. But now, he was forced to accept that he was a fool to think that.
“I was in Trivinus when they attacked. They all fought bravely, even Therrin, but the Thallians’ magic was too strong. The power of Triumvirate simply overwhelmed us.” Bynn turned back around, the corners of his downcast eyes glittering in the candlelight. “I’m sorry.”
Kell rose so quickly his knees wobbled. He grabbed the table for the second he needed to steady himself before storming out of the hut. Vicious thoughts stormed in his mind. They were gone. They were all gone, slaughtered by the Thallians. He ran across one of the swinging bridges to another tree, unable to face Bynn and the truth. Any more details would have him jumping on the nearest horse with his sword drawn, killing every Thallian he saw.
He ran from tree to tree, losing himself in the maze of the complex while he tried to rein in his murderous intentions. At last, he came to the end of the bridges and dropped to his knees on the floor of a hut that still needed walls and a roof. He drew his sword, stabbed it into the heavy beams, and pressed his forehead against the hilt. Wetness streamed along his cheeks, but he let it fall, releasing his pain with each salty drop.
He lost track of time while he knelt there, but the sun had long disappeared behind the rock walls by the time a small hand came to rest on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Now you know why I didn’t want to tell you about your family, Kell,” Zara whispered.
“Why? Because you knew I’d compromise your mission by wanting to kill every one of those bastards I came across?”
“No.” She crouched beside him, a dark skirt pooling around her ankles now instead of the practical leather breeches she’d worn earlier, and guided his face toward her. The scent of mountain lilacs rose from her skin. The moonlight filtered through the branches, turning her eyes silver. “Because I couldn’t bear the thought of causing you any pain.”
The quivering of her chin reminded him he wasn’t the only person who’d lost loved ones to the Thallians. “How do you do it? How can you look at them after what they’ve done and not immediately pull the trigger of your bow?”
“Because I’ve had time to contain my sorrow, my hatred, my thirst for vengeance, and channel it into something useful. Going after them alone would be futile, as would attacking the Thallians without a good plan. By waiting for the right moment, I’m able to deliver a quick blow that chips away at their defenses bit by bit until I can finally deliver the killing strike. But I couldn’t do any of it until I was strong enough, both physically and mentally.”
She ran her fingers through his short hair before trailing them down his cheek and along his jaw, her touch light with pity, yet still purposeful like a priestess anointing the brow of a devotee. “It will be the same for you, Kell, if you are willing to be patient. Then, when we are ready, we will finally have our revenge, and you will take your rightful place as king.”
He closed his eyes and soaked in her words. King. In the back of his mind, he still considered his father the king, not him. He didn’t want to believe it was his time to take the throne, even though his father had been grooming him for it as far back as he could remember. He didn’t want to acknowledge that it was his time to lead the people, to make the tough decisions for the common good, to assume responsibility for the well-being of Ranello.
At least, not yet. Right now, all he wanted to do was mourn the loss of his family.
Zara pulled him closer as though she knew exactly what was going through his mind. He buried his face on her chest, his arms around her waist, while the last dregs of his grieving seeped out. She waited patiently for him, her hands cupping his head and shoulders in the comforting embrace of an old friend. With Zara, he didn’t have to worry about being labeled weak for showing emotion or fear someone using this moment against him. She was a woman who knew him better than any other woman in the kingdom, an ally he was coming to appreciate more and more with each passing day.
When he’d cried his last tear, his eyes were left gritty, but his mind was finally clear. He knew what needed to be done, and he was ready to take on that duty. He lifted his face and nodded to her, an unspoken promise to keep this just between them. “Thank you.”