Chapter 42
W e were silent on the ride back to the cabin. Rowan sat rigidly in front of me, having her usual fun blaming me for the way everything around us kept catching fire.
When we finally arrived at the cabin, I escorted Rowan to her rooms, not ready to trust anyone else with her safety when my father’s personal squadron was present.
I hated Samu under the best of circumstances, which these certainly were not. Had there been any way for me to feasibly get rid of him, I would have done so by now.
Having him anywhere near my mother’s cabin would have been enough to set me on edge, even if the rest of the day hadn’t gone to hell.
Of course, I could never hope for a single moment’s peace while Rowan was around. Instead of going into her room, she continued walking with me. Short of physically shoving her into the hallway, my only real option was to let her follow me into my room.
I turned once the door closed, fixing her with a stare. “Bold move, shutting yourself in with a wanton murderer of innocent women and children.”
She pursed her lips, averting her gaze.
“What did you expect me to think?” Her tone was lower than usual, edged with something that might have been remorse, or possibly even chagrin.
I wasn’t sure. I was too tired, and too consumed by all the other many thoughts racing through my mind, to read the many nuances of her moods right now — and I wouldn’t have known how to answer her in any event.
What had I expected? For her to pay more attention to what was in front of her than a handful of rumors? I had known better than that.
I shoved a few things into my bag before answering.
“Honestly, Princess, there are few things in this world I care less about than what you think.” I wished that were half as true as I managed to make it sound.
She shook her head. “And why would you, when I’m just your pet?”
That certainly was the question.
“Why, indeed,” I murmured. “What exactly did you need?”
“I want to know what the hell just happened back there,” she demanded. “Was that what you meant when you said you had to entertain their negotiations, that you would orchestrate this?”
I would have been more irritated with her if she had sounded like she believed it herself. Instead, I was just exhausted, trying to stave off an ache that was slowly working its way into my skull.
“I didn’t orchestrate any of this,” I told her calmly. “My father?—”
She held out her hand, cutting me off before I could finish.
“For all that you talk about other people manipulating me, that lie rolls off your tongue pretty easily, doesn’t it? We both know your father likely doesn’t even remember I’m here.”
I dropped my hand to my side, looking at her to be sure I heard her correctly. How the hell had she known that, and who had told her? Der’mo , did she realize this was yet another thing that could get us both killed?
“What do you know about my father?” I asked.
She set her jaw, glaring up at me. “I know that he didn’t send that letter.”
My heartbeat pounded in my skull. Technically, he had written the letter, but her implication was dangerous. How the hell did she know? I couldn’t ask her without confirming her suspicions.
If a single one of his loyal men got word that she knew about his mental state, if my father got word of it…there would be nothing I could do to stop him.
And storms help us all if the other clan leaders found out. Our reputation kept us safe, but if they sensed weakness…
“You don’t know anything,” I corrected her.
Her eyes flared with defiance. “I?—”
“You. Don’t. Know. Anything,” I barreled over her. “And if you could bring yourself to display even incrementally more sense than you have in the past, you will remember that.”
She parted her lips to respond, but one of Samu’s men knocked at the door. “Samu says we should depart before we lose more daylight.”
I was sure he did. Samu didn’t give a single damn about losing daylight as much as these petty games he played for power. I headed for the hallway before he could make things even more difficult.
Instead of moving out of my way, Rowan planted herself firmly against the door, glaring up at me through her lashes. I called her bluff, going for the doorknob like she wasn’t standing there at all.
My hand brushed against her waist and she sucked in a breath, but she still didn’t move. My chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath, this unspoken standoff only adding tinder to the furious flames that always seemed to crackle between us, the ones made up of blood debts and disdain and other things I couldn’t—didn’t want to give words to.
Then a soldier coughed in the hallway and the spell was broken. I turned the doorknob and Rowan finally moved aside, a ragged breath escaping her.
We headed for the stables, where Rowan veered toward the horse she had ridden on the way up here. Unfortunately, that did not escape Samu’s notice.
“Why does the prisoner take such liberties?” he demanded. “Surely she is not given her own horse.”
This wasn’t remotely within his purview, but neither was it smart to let my father, or anyone, believe I had any mercy for the princess of our enemy. He would destroy her just to keep me from going soft, let alone the pleasure he would get out of watching a Lochlannian suffer.
I didn’t have to feign annoyance. “Because she’s a hindrance to the movement of any man whose saddle she rides on at a time when there is more Unclanned activity than usual.”
“We have plenty of men now,” he pointed out.
His tone was within the barest technicality of deferential, but the meaning was clear nonetheless, fraying at the edges of my rapidly declining temper.
“I don’t care where she rides, Samu,” I said with no small amount of exasperation.
He tilted his head slightly. “Artyom, take the princess.”
I narrowed my eyes. Artyom was the largest man here, outside of Kirill. It made exactly no sense for him to be the one who shared his horse, unless Samu was intentionally being cruel, which would fit perfectly with what I knew of him.
Sure enough, he was already leering at her.
I had been trained to torture and to kill, but I drew the line right here. I wouldn’t subject anyone to that, let alone someone I claimed as my own.
“No.” I contradicted him without apology or explanation, rapidly considering who I would replace Artyom with.
It couldn’t be me. I needed distance to think and fight and deal with Samu, to get her farther away from his attention, not closer to it. Not to mention that it was one thing for my father to let me have a pet, another for me to flaunt intimacy in public with someone everyone assumed was sharing my bed. That was not the Socairan way.
Kirill really was too big to share his saddle, nor did I think his wife would appreciate it.
Besides, I needed someone who was more aloof with her, who I trusted implicitly. I looked at my cousin, who was already staring back with resignation.
“She can ride with Taras.”
He would keep her safe and away from Samu.
And if I got a small respite from her as well, that was just a happy accident.