Chapter 35
I’m more than a little relieved to see Zelle is back for our training the next morning, and he offers me a wide smile in greeting. ‘I hear you had some excitement while I was away.’
‘You could say that.’
‘Cowards. Shameful cowards. I’m not normally one for vengeance, but in this case, I won’t lose any sleep when they get what’s coming to them.
’ I can’t help but wonder if he’s talking solely about the Rettlings, or whether Holden is included in the sentiment too.
It’s not like it could have happened without his say-so.
Still, that’s not something I’m going to ask. ‘You okay now?’ he adds.
‘I’m all good,’ I reassure him. ‘We should get started.’
Today it’s straight into sparring, with no footwork practice first, and thankfully, there’s no sign of the prince. The difference his absence makes to me is more than a little noticeable. The tension in my muscles is entirely different, and I can actually focus one hundred percent on the fighting.
Only when I’m drenched in sweat and my time with Zelle is nearly up does his royal highness finally deign to join us. Though rather than a weapon in his hand, the prince carries a plate of pastries. ‘Did you eat anything yet?’ he asks me gruffly.
‘Um, no,’ I admit.
He holds the plate out, but I don’t take it. Perhaps my plan for Zara is affecting my thinking, but I can’t help but worry that they might be poisoned, laced with something.
His mouth tightens as he grabs one and pointedly eats a mouthful. Then he stalks over and slams the plate onto the weapons cabinet before whirling around to face me.
‘It’s not fucking poisoned.’ His snarled words confirm he read my reluctance flawlessly.
‘It’s food, and you need to eat. If you don’t fuel your body properly then you’re wasting Zelle’s time and yours.
Worse, you’re wasting my fucking time because it’s time he’s not training with me.
So do us all a favour and eat something. ’
Without another word, he turns on his heel and stalks off, not waiting to see if I consume his buttery offerings.
Silence falls between Zelle and me, and I hate the way the pastries continue to call to me. There’s no way around it. I’m fucking starving. As I move to pick one up, Zelle clears his throat.
‘It was hard to say goodbye to her,’ Zelle murmurs. It takes less than a heartbeat for me to realise what he means. My cheeks colour furiously as hollow fear sweeps through me.
Zelle knows I saw Elska.
‘I—’
He shakes his head and holds a hand up to forestall any explanation I might make. ‘The Gods led you to see what you needed to see. Cut him some slack. He’s trying to atone.’
I blink. ‘Atone for what?’
Zelle fixes his eyes on me. ‘For his lies.’
It hits me like I’ve been dragged into icy water. Zelle knows the truth. No wonder he’s been so keen to help me. He knows my mother was innocent. He knows that the only reason I’m even here is because Kyor ruined us.
‘There is no atonement for what he did,’ I spit. ‘There is no forgiveness. My brother is dead, my mother, my father. We have lived destitute, hungry, and in fear. Fuck his atonement.’
Zelle smiles a little. ‘The two of you are such a pair.’ He looks at me with an affection I can’t bear to see.
‘He was a child, Rose. A child who’d just watched his mother die before his eyes.
The most precious person in his life, ripped away to join Mortidem.
You’ve experienced loss yourself. You know the anger that comes with it.
The desire to rage against the Gods’ will.
The feeling of injustice that makes you seek someone to blame.
He was a child,’ he repeats, his tone now just a little chiding. ‘Would you not forgive a child?’
‘No,’ I say shakily, more shaken than I care to admit. ‘No, because I was a child too.’
‘You were’—he nods—‘but a life lived in hate is no life at all.’ His rebuke is soft, yet it hits me like a blow to the stomach. ‘Session’s up,’ he murmurs.
A glance across the battle yard shows me that the other Rettlings have started to arrive. Rather than immediately heading over to them, Zelle squeezes my arm then moves over to the plate of pastries and plucks one up. He saunters away, no doubt ready to dispense some more unasked-for wisdom.
As the rest of the Rettlings file in, I all but run from the battle yard. The hollowness that fills me is due to far more than a lack of pastries.
‘It takes about twenty-four hours to take effect,’ I tell Llinos a week later.
I’m up before sunrise, not to train with Zelle and Kyor but for the sole purpose of putting my own poisoning plan into action.
‘Which means if I slip it into their breakfast this morning, the symptoms will kick in tomorrow. Less suspicious, right? I’ll pour it into their water jugs, then tomorrow morning we watch the Rowells suffer. ’
‘With a dodgy tummy?’ she says dubiously, raising an eyebrow. ‘Rose, you’re so soft. Your mighty punishment for them trying to murder you is a dodgy tummy?’
‘A really dodgy tummy,’ I say, grinning. ‘Sweats, cramps, vomiting, shakes. It won’t kill them, but it’ll sure as hell make them feel like they’re going to die.’
I’ve not mentioned the argument I heard her and Benny having, nor have I told a soul about Kyor and Elska.
I sure am racking up secrets. But the poison doesn’t need to be a secret from Llin.
In fact, it feels good to be able to share something with her.
And so she comes with me to add the final ingredient, changing the concoction from a deep purple to colourless.
‘All this without magic and spell work.’ Llin sounds genuinely impressed by my skills and I can’t deny the bubble of pride that fills me.
‘I need to get down there now,’ I say excitedly as I pour the now colourless liquid into two glass vials. ‘Oke has a habit of getting up annoyingly early, and this’ll get less potent if I have to wait until later in the week to use it.’
‘Want me to hang around at the top of the stairs and make sure none of them are heading down?’ Llinos offers. ‘I can distract them if needed?’
‘If you’re sure?’ I ask as I pocket the vials. ‘I don’t want you to put yourself at risk.’
She snorts. ‘Wow, careful there, Rose. You’re sounding like your boyfriend.’
I offer her my most withering glare. ‘Not my boyfriend. Jonas is just an old friend.’
‘Who clearly wants to be more.’
I shake my head as I slip on my boots. ‘If we’re dissecting relationships, perhaps I should ask you more about the situation between you and Benny?’ I deflect, only to wince internally as the words slip out.
Llin’s posture stiffens as her eyes narrow. ‘What’s that supposed to mean? What’s he said to you?’
‘Nothing,’ I reply, already regretting the comment. ‘I just mean, I don’t even know how you two know each other.’
‘Yes, you do. We’re both from Brandish,’ she says flatly.
‘Right, but I always thought it was a big city. I certainly didn’t know all the other noble kids growing up here, and it’s not like Jonas knows all the nobles in Wrohelm that well either.’
Her fingers pinch the bridge of her nose and I know she’s weighing up what to tell me. ‘Benny and I are related,’ she says eventually. ‘Distantly through marriage. Not blood.’
‘Ahh, so now the bickering makes sense. You’re family.’ I grin, trying to make light of the matter.
‘We do not bicker,’ she argues, only to change her mind. ‘Okay, yes, we do. But don’t think I didn’t notice how you shifted the subject away from you and Lorathin just now. Please, whatever you’re going to do, do it soon. I can’t deal with another carriage ride filled with longing looks.’
‘There have been no longing looks, and we don’t have time for this conversation. I have to get down to the dining room. Now, are you helping me or not?’
‘I’ve got your back.’
I smile, confident she does.
Just as planned, I leave Llinos at the top of the stairs and head down alone.
When I reach the dining hall, a couple of people are already there eating breakfast, including two of the knights and the wind weaver from Galreck.
Despite my heart pounding so loudly that I’m sure they can hear it, none of them pay me any attention.
I work swiftly. I’ve already unstoppered the vials on the way down, and as I walk past, I pour a fair dose into each of the water jugs on the Rowell table, grateful they always choose to sit at the table right at the end of the room.
I’d prefer to stir it in just to make sure it’s all mixed properly, but given how much I’ve put in there, it’ll only take a couple of sips for them to feel the effects – and fingers crossed, they’ll have a darn sight more than that.
Trying to control the grin that’s spreading across my cheeks, I’m barely halfway to my own table when footsteps echo behind me and a glass clinks.
Shit. Someone’s already here, and the first thing they’ve done is pour themselves a drink.
My heart ricochets as I realise how close I was to getting caught, but the fear dissolves almost instantly.
I didn’t get caught, and I know at least one of the Rowell lot is going to face a not insubstantial punishment for what they did to me.
As a smile rises on my lips, I can’t help but glance over my shoulder, only for my jaw to drop in surprise. It’s not Zara or any of her crew. It’s Kyor. And he’s already emptied what I assume was a whole fucking glass.
Oh shit.
I’m gaping, hands wringing, totally flustered.
He’s topless and glistening with sweat. Without me to slow them down this morning, I imagine he and Zelle have had a heavy workout.
As tempting as it is to let my eyes linger on those abs or the concentric circle tattoos, they’re instead drawn to his lips, where moisture glistens, and then to the empty glass in his hand.
‘Is there a reason you’re staring, Thorn?’ he says, arching an eyebrow at me.
‘Nope,’ I manage.