Chapter Thirty-One Samira
THIRTY-ONE SAMIRA
I wrenched open the door to my cabin. Cold air hit my face instantly, making my already unsteady legs tremble harder, but I wrapped my cloak tighter around my shoulders and steeled myself.
I’d served Amunet in the midst of fever. I’d served her with lashes on my back, with a brand over my heart. I could get out of this damn room on sore legs.
Gripping the threshold hard enough to leave nail marks in the wood, I stepped outside.
The longhouse loomed a few yards away, unlit torches marking the path. I balanced against one as I caught my breath. Then lurched for the next one. Leapfrogging from torch to torch.
I paused at the longhouse’s large double doors and peered in.
Velka was inside, talking to Sillia and Cano, gesturing vaguely around the space as she gave orders. I heard her mention Aurel, the man newly in charge of the smokehouse. They must be discussing food for the Lunar Feast. Then Velka turned and led them through a side door.
Once I was sure they weren’t coming back, I staggered forward and held on to the long wooden table as I shuffled through the hall. There were only a handful of people in there, and they were all too busy with getting things ready to pay me any mind.
I ducked behind the throne and slid my hand along the wall, which went from wood to stone as I ventured closer to Rade’s room.
I paused. Keir’s enhanced hearing would certainly catch me if I continued sliding along, panting as I was. I forced my breathing to even out and pushed away from the wall. My knees groaned, and I had to work to keep them steady.
Then I was beside Rade’s door, a hand over my mouth to further muffle my breaths.
Luckily, their conversation was heated enough that they didn’t hear me.
“What do you want me to do?” Rade was demanding.
“Something,” Keir responded. “Take her back to the Seer—”
“That’s not how it works and you know it.”
“A priestess, then. Have one of them examine her. Her scent isn’t—”
“It’s a bit strange, don’t you think, Keir? That none of the other Seven share your concerns. Not the priestess, the healer, or the Seer, either.”
“Bain agrees with me.”
“Bain says the opposite of whatever Velka does.”
“Fine, but we don’t know what the Seer said. You should’ve let us listen—”
“What is your goal here, Keir?”
His First scoffed. “What?”
“We need her. You know that. You brought her here. If her scent offends you, then plug your damn nose.”
“That’s not what I—” Keir sighed heavily, and silence descended. I imagined they were having a stare-off. “I am trying to protect you, my king. To protect all of us. You know what happened the last time her kind was here.”
“Look around, Keir,” Rade replied tiredly. “Do you see an army?”
“Not yet.”
There was a heavy pause. “Have you chosen someone?”
Silence.
Rade sighed. “You don’t want me to pick his replacement and you don’t want to do it. Should we leave it up to Ketet?” Sarcasm dripped from his words.
Keir tried, “Why does it have to be seven? Just tell me that and I’ll do it.” There was no answer. “Rade, the six of us work just as well—”
“Always questioning, Keir. And when you’re not questioning me, you’re undermining me. I can’t even pick my own inner circle for fear you’ll murder them.”
“Bain had—”
“Thank you,” Rade cut him off again, voice sharp as a blade. “Your concerns have been heard.” A dismissal.
As quietly as I could, I turned and started to hobble back to my room, step by limping step, going as fast as I could while remaining quiet.
I had just made it to the throne when Rade and Keir came storming in. Keir stopped in front of me, eyes menacing, so different from the heated stare when he’d smelled my runes. “What are you doing?”
My breaths were labored, and sweat dotted my forehead. I felt like I’d run a mile. Which I hoped helped make my words believable when I said, “I was looking for the healer.”
Rade put his hand on Keir’s shoulder, firm and commanding, and gave me a kind smile. “I’ll find her for you. Keir will help you back to bed.”
Keir’s yellow eyes flashed, but he gave a curt nod and offered me his hand.
Swallowing hard, I took it and let him lead me out of the longhouse, back into the frigid day. The walk back felt exponentially longer than my struggle there. I kept my eyes trained on the ground, my hand light in Keir’s.
“If you’re going to eavesdrop,” he said suddenly, “you better learn to control that rabbit’s heartbeat of yours.”
My head snapped up. “What?”
He smirked. “I could hear you from a mile away, Majesty.”
Oh gods—
Keir stopped outside my door but didn’t open it. He reeled me in close. “You already used up your one warning, remember?” he rumbled.
I stopped breathing, eyes wide as saucers. Keir’s fingers flexed around my hand and even in that small movement, I felt his strength. If he wanted to, he could kill me in seconds. Less. “I am under the king’s protec—”
“The king’s not here, is he?”
My eyes darted around his shoulders, looking for help. But everyone was busy with preparing for the party. It was practically deserted.
“I know you’re hiding something, Majesty,” he said. “And when I figure it out, your death is mine. Scent or no.”
My scent? My scent would… stop him? Rade had suggested that it was offensive, but…
I paused and forced myself to push my fear aside so I could think clearly.
Keir wasn’t going to stop. His hatred for the Khadas wouldn’t let him. Rade’s desperation had forced him to put aside whatever King Zaid had done when he’d invaded Kaldfold seventeen years ago, but as long as Keir despised me, the danger he posed wouldn’t end.
And I needed it to.
If I could mend whatever pain King Zaid had caused—even a little—maybe Keir would finally back off. Maybe he’d even explain these marks on my forehead.
So I licked my lips and broached, “What did my king do to you?”
He scoffed. “Figures you wouldn’t know.”
“I know what he did to Kaldfold generally, but I’m asking what he did to you.”
Keir stared hard at me, yellow eyes scanning every inch of my face. I kept my shoulders low, face open. Let him see the question as genuine.
And it was. I’d been told that King Zaid had no choice but to beat back the deranged Kaldfolk. But they weren’t deranged. That part of the story had been a lie. Which made me wonder what else was, and what the king had wanted to hide behind that lie.
Memory, hurt, pain flashed through Keir’s gaze in quick succession. “He trapped me in a nightmare. I’ve never known a man as cruel as your king.”
Sympathy softened my face. “Do you mean he took you captive?”
He schooled his features back into that careful smirk again.
“Clever, Majesty. Tell me, if being my friend doesn’t work, what will you try next?
Seduction?” He leaned in, the deep spice of a mulberry tree enveloping me, bringing with it that burst of an old memory I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
“Why don’t you give it a try? Maybe I’ll be more responsive.
” His bright yellow eyes flicked down to my lips.
He was trying to throw me off. Maybe I should be more frightened. After all, it sounded like his loyalty to Rade was a fragile thing. Disobeying orders, undermining him publicly. And yet, for some inexplicable reason, I wasn’t afraid. “I saw you drumming during Hedin’s funeral.”
A blink was his only reply.
“None of you liked him, but you helped his mother grieve. Helped the people of Netherridge grieve, too. It was a beautiful prayer. The people listening… It meant a lot to them. But you know that already. That’s why you did it.
” I mustered up a small smile. “You brought me kefir with honey. Twice. You care for people, Keir. Is it so difficult to believe that I do, too?”
“You care for no one but yourself, Khada.” He spat the word so venomously, his breath whipped my face.
I swallowed my flinch. “Is that why I’m risking my life to help you get rid of the Shroud? Because I don’t care?”
“You’re doing it because you know we’ll kill you otherwise.”
“Not if you catch a whiff of my scent.”
A deep growl built in the back of his throat. “Don’t talk about things you don’t understand.”
“What do you smell, Keir?” I took a brazen step forward as the wind blew through, ruffling my short hair and carrying my scent straight to Keir’s nose.
His chest stopped moving. He was holding his breath.
I tried not to see that for the small victory that it was.
“Why would it stop you from killing me?”
“It won’t,” he said, voice tight.
“Yes, it would. Why?”
“You have no idea what you’re even asking.”
“So explain it to me.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw as he glared at me, lips a firm line. He glanced at my forehead, at the impossible markings that ached even now. Those gold eyes of his were hard, giving nothing away. But despite his best efforts, his chest rose on an inhale.
A small thrill zipped through my blood. “Whatever King Zaid did to you,” I said softly, “you didn’t deserve it.” Keir would’ve only been around ten years old at the time of the invasion. No matter what sort of man he’d grown into, no child deserved war.
Keir’s gaze seared into me, and it was like looking into two bright suns. I had that odd probing feeling again, as if he could somehow see within me. I let him.
He took a step forward, bringing us within an inch of each other, and his hand landed on the door beside my hip.
My heart lurched into my throat as his body heat seeped into me.
I craned my head back to look up into his face.
Cold, throat cut up with blue markings, everything about him harsh and forbidding, all except those gods-damn eyes.
Those were warm and encompassing, and they were focused on me as acutely as I was focused on them.
Click.
The door behind me swung open, and I staggered back. Keir had turned the knob beside my hip. I managed to catch myself on the doorjamb before I tumbled inside.
“Don’t come to the Lunar Feast,” he ordered, voice like gravel.