Chapter 15 #2
Amryn touched her friend’s arm. “You’re doing an amazing job, Jayveh. You’re everything a princess should be.” And if the emperor’s inner circle didn’t recognize what a gift they’d been given in Jayveh Umbar Vayne, they were fools.
“Thank you,” Jayveh whispered. “I just feel out of my depth. Argent promised I’d learn quickly, but . . . I thought I’d have him at my side. It makes all of this feel even more daunting.” She gave Amryn a smile, though it looked a little frayed. “I’m grateful to have you with me.”
A tendril of guilt spiraled through her. “Jayveh, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Apprehension flickered as Jayveh glanced at her, their footsteps slowing. “What?”
She took a breath. “Carver and I are going to Westmont.”
Jayveh stopped walking. She stared at Amryn, stunned. “You’re leaving?”
“Yes.” She winced as she felt the cutting slice of Jayveh’s sense of betrayal.
“There’s trouble along the southern border,” she said, using the excuse Carver planned to give the emperor.
“It may get worse if people in Harvari learn what happened to Argent. With Carver’s experience there, he’s in the best position to anticipate their attacks and defend the border. ”
“But . . . you can’t go.”
Amryn didn’t have a choice. Not with the knights coming. “I’m sorry.”
“Has the emperor agreed to this?” Jayveh asked, her voice tight.
“Carver plans to discuss it with him today.”
Jayveh’s hurt burned deeply. “I thought you’d be here with me.”
An ache clutched Amryn’s chest. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you while we’re here.” Saints, the words were inadequate. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Jayveh glanced away. “I just . . . I’m surprised.
” She swallowed hard. When she looked back at Amryn, it was clear she was still struggling for composure.
A sheen of moisture shined in her eyes, though her words were surprisingly controlled.
“I assumed Carver would insist on leading the search for Argent.”
“Jayveh . . .”
The princess quickly shook her head. “I know you and Carver fear Argent is dead. But it just doesn’t make sense that you could give up so easily. That Carver could give up. Maybe he’s just trying to protect himself, but after everything he went through in Harvari, I didn’t expect this from him.”
Amryn frowned. “What does his time in Harvari have to do with anything?”
Jayveh stilled. Shock, sadness, guilt—too many emotions to name—arrowed through her. “You don’t know?” she asked softly.
Trepidation trickled through her. “Know what?”
Jayveh glanced at the guards standing around them. They had drifted back slightly during the tense exchange, but were still hovering. “Could you give us a moment?” Jayveh asked.
The men shared quick looks before the apparent leader said, “We have orders to remain within sight of you at all times, Princess.”
“Just a little space, please,” Jayveh insisted. “You can wait at the end of the hall.”
There was a slight hesitation, but the guards obviously decided that was acceptable. Their footsteps echoed loudly in the otherwise deserted hall as they walked away, mimicking the sudden drumming of Amryn’s heart—except while their footsteps grew softer, her heartbeat was only getting louder.
Dread gathered low in her gut as she faced her friend. “What happened to Carver in Harvari?”
Jayveh’s mouth tightened. Reluctance pulsed, but her lips finally parted. “Carver was captured by the enemy. He was held as a prisoner of war for about five months.”
Amryn’s breath caught. Her head spun as those words repeated in her mind. Captured by the enemy. Prisoner of war. Five months.
“Everyone thought he was dead,” Jayveh whispered.
“That he’d been killed in a brutal ambush.
So many were dead at the site. The bodies had all been .
. .” She swallowed hard, revulsion shooting through her.
“The pieces had all been burned,” she said, carefully sidestepping the awful truth, though it was clear enough.
The pieces. Men who had once breathed and laughed. Soldiers under Carver’s command. Men he’d known. Men who had died so violently, even their bodies couldn’t rest in peace. Bile rose, and she fought to swallow it back.
Jayveh’s lips thinned. “With everything reduced to ash, they couldn’t be sure Carver was among them.
But they assumed he was dead. There were no signs he’d been taken, no demands for ransom.
” Sorrow swirled in her. “I don’t know everything that happened to him,” she said softly.
“Only what Argent shared with me. But I do know Carver was tortured.”
A tremor shook through her. Amryn pressed a hand over her mouth, her eyes stinging and her throat burning. She felt so stupid for not knowing. For not realizing.
The lash marks on his back. She’d known those hadn’t come from a battlefield, she just hadn’t let herself follow that thought to its logical conclusion. Hadn’t ever imagined this.
Tortured. Five months.
The words were relentless, pounding in her mind. Breaking her heart.
She’d known Carver was haunted by things he’d seen in Harvari.
Things he’d done. She’d sat with him on the nights he couldn’t sleep.
Felt the darkness churning inside him when the demons in his head wouldn’t be silent.
The first time she’d woken him from a nightmare, he’d tackled her with a knife, certain she was an enemy.
The second time, in that small tent on their journey to the capital, he had snatched her wrist, as if fearing an attack. As if living one.
Because he had. Over and over again. Not just as a soldier, but as a prisoner.
Tortured. Five months.
She was going to be sick.
“I’m sorry,” Jayveh said softly. “I thought you knew.” Or that he would have told you, was what her rising pity clearly expressed.
“Argent told me Ford was the one who found Carver. He refused to believe he was dead. He didn’t stop searching until he found the camp Carver was being held at.
” She winced. “I know he was terribly injured, but Ford rescued him.”
A dull ringing in Amryn’s ears nearly drowned out the thud of her pulse. Injured. Carver had told her he’d been injured in Harvari. That he’d nearly lost his life. It was why he’d left the warfront. He’d returned home to recover.
He’d told her that, but he hadn’t told her this.
“I thought you knew,” Jayveh repeated. “That everyone knew. My uncle kept me isolated, so I didn’t hear much about the war, but when Argent told me what had happened to Carver, he made it sound like all of Craethen knew he’d been a prisoner.”
Amryn couldn’t breathe. She’d made no effort to follow the war.
Her life in Ferradin had been so far removed from it, there had been no reason for her to do so.
She’d heard Rix and Torin discuss it from time to time—that’s how she knew Carver had earned his nickname as the Butcher—but she’d never heard about his capture.
Jayveh reached out and grasped Amryn’s hand. “I’m sorry,” she said, compassion and sympathy pouring from her. “I don’t think he talks about it. At least, I know he never really talked to Argent about it.”
Don’t feel bad he hasn’t told you. That’s what Jayveh meant.
Amryn looked away. Heat built in her cheeks, and she hated that. Hated that for even a second, her thoughts were for herself. What did it matter if she was hurt or embarrassed that Carver hadn’t confided in her? He had been a prisoner, enduring horrific torture for months.
And yet, it hurt that he hadn’t trusted her with this. Because she had trusted him with so much. Her secrets. Her heart. She had shared some of her darkest memories with him, and he hadn’t done the same.
“I’m sorry,” Jayveh repeated softly, regret filling her.
Amryn forced herself to meet Jayveh’s worried gaze. Squeezed her friend’s hand, since Jayveh was still holding hers tightly. “Thank you for telling me.”
Concern still hung in Jayveh. Her next words proved that she was intuitive and had followed Amryn’s thoughts. “It isn’t easy to talk about difficult things in our pasts. Some things seem too terrible to speak aloud.”
Amryn thought of her father’s betrayal, the one thing she had yet to tell Carver about. Because Jayveh was right—some things were too terrible to speak. Giving them air made them too real. It made one too vulnerable.
“There were many things I struggled to tell Argent.” The echo of old pain, mixed with shame, floated to the surface.
That particular blend of emotion was inevitably felt by those who’d suffered ongoing abuse, making it clear Jayveh’s thoughts had turned to her uncle and all she’d suffered at his cruel hands.
“It isn’t easy to relive your most painful moments,” she said.
“And it certainly wasn’t easy to share the details with Argent, knowing he would hurt for me.
That he’d somehow blame himself for not knowing how I’d suffered for so many years, even though he couldn’t have known.
That he’d wish he could have somehow shielded me from my uncle. ”
Amryn could only imagine the combined helplessness, pain, and rage Argent must have felt, knowing how Jayveh had suffered. Amryn’s pain and rage were potent enough.
“I’m glad I told him,” Jayveh concluded softly. “Just as I’m grateful he didn’t force me to speak before I was ready. He accepted my need to share my pain in my own time. Not his.”
It was gently given advice, and Amryn accepted it with a slow nod, even though all she wanted to do was seek out Carver, look into his eyes, and let him know that she knew.
Perhaps it was for the best they’d be stuck in this upcoming meeting for hours.
It would give her time to process everything and rein in her need to talk to him about it.
Because Jayveh was right. Carver’s needs came first in this, and she would not force him to face this particular demon.
“I’m sorry I reacted badly to you telling me that you’re leaving,” Jayveh said softly. “I just . . . I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too.” Amryn hesitated, then wrapped her arms around her friend.
Jayveh easily returned the embrace.
“I’m sorry we have to go,” Amryn whispered.
Jayveh’s hold tightened. “Just promise me you’ll come visit soon.”
It wasn’t a promise she could make, but she nodded anyway.
When they drew back, Amryn could still feel the ghost of pain in Jayveh. “Will you confront your uncle?” she asked. “When Ford brings him?”
“Yes.” Jayveh’s mouth thinned. “Argent once told me that he dreamed about the day he could personally arrest my uncle and make him suffer for every harm he ever did to me and my brothers. I’ll admit, it felt good to imagine that.
” She released a slow breath. “But revenge means little to me now. I just want answers. I want Argent back. And if my uncle can help do that, I’ll give him whatever he wants.
” Her eyes sharpened, resolve tightening the air around her.
“And if he refuses to help me, I will ensure he’s persuaded to change his mind. ”