Chapter 14 People of Honor
PEOPLE OF HONOR
AMARA
VEXAR RUBS A hand over his mouth in disbelief. “You did all of this for a chance to kill Gaius? I mean, the Magistrate?”
“His name is Gaius?” I ask. It seems strange for him to have a name at all. After all this time, he’s become more of a mythological monster in my mind, and giving him a real name feels too humanizing.
Vexar nods, but there’s a hollow look behind his eyes, like he’s watching something beautiful burn.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I say, turning towards the window and running a hand through my hair. “He should die for what he’s done… For what he’s doing.”
“And how is saving me going to accomplish that? How is your death going to fix anything? Hmm? Tell me what your big plan is here.”
I slowly turn back to face him, running the tip of my tongue over the sharp edge of my teeth while holding back a humorless smile.
“You’d be dead right now if it weren’t for my ‘big plan’, so maybe consider that before trying to judge me.
” I cross my arms over my chest and curl my toes in my shoes.
“Obviously, you think I’m some sort of idiot who ran into this blind, but I’m not.
” I glance at my feet. “I know the odds—I’m not stupid—and I wasn’t planning on doing any of this today. At least not until I saw you bleeding.”
Vexar doesn’t say anything, but I swear I can feel his sorrow.
My gaze returns to the window, where the raging storm has become a sea of swirling dark.
Sand whips by in random gusts, making a tinkling sound as it brushes against the stone.
It reminds me of the sound of corn snow falling on ice in the winter, and it sparks a longing for a past I’ll never return to.
I clench my jaw until the blood roaring in my ears drowns out the sound.
“After I first got here, I tried to escape. When that failed, I was taken to the Magistrate’s office.
” I glance over my shoulder. “It was just the two of us. No guards. And that was the only time I’ve been close enough to do anything.
” I press my eyes closed. “But instead of killing him, I sat there like a good little slave. I don’t know if what I’ve done will land me back in his office, but if it doesn’t, at least my death won’t have been for nothing. ”
Vexar makes a pained wheezing sound behind me.
I rub my thumb and forefinger over my brow, still feeling like my explanation is incomplete.
“He took everything from me, and I can’t watch that happen to anyone else.
” My voice cracks, but I don’t stop. “I can’t watch another woman show up here, traumatized and completely fucked up.
I can’t.” Tears burn the corners of my eyes, but I wipe them away quickly.
The thought of the Magistrate living happily while the rest of us suffer fills me with anger.
I turn back to Vexar, ready to face his judgment.
Even if he doesn’t understand, I know I made the right call.
“I can’t just look the other way,” I say.
“I can’t continue on like this. And right now, I have an advantage.
He doesn’t see me as a threat, and I’m not going to throw that away, I’m gonna to use it. ”
“You don’t have to do this,” he whispers.
I shake my head, feeling the cold burn of my rage grow.
“You don’t get it. I want to kill him. I want it to be my face he sees as he’s gasping for breath at the end.
My face he sees before he’s dragged to the deepest pits of hell.
I want him to know that a human slave he thought was nothing more than property is the reason his life is ending, and if I need to follow him into death to do that, then I’ll go with a fucking smile. ”
Vexar drops his face into his hands.
My nostrils flare. “I get it. You don’t understand.” And how could he? He’s the heir to an empire. A prince who’s never experienced true desperation. “But at a certain point, when you have nothing left to lose—”
“You have everything to lose,” he interrupts, raising his face out of his hands.
I laugh, and it sounds hollow and sick. “Like what? Another 50 years of setting bones and wrapping wounds in a dungeon? Another 50 years of being at the mercy of a bunch of psychopathic guards? Another 50 years of traumatic flashbacks and watching young women get trapped in this hell with me? That’s not a life, Vexar. That’s a drawn-out death sentence.”
He extends an arm towards me, and for some reason, I don’t pull back. The pads of his fingers trace over the back of my hand, and the sensation pulls me from my rage so fast I don’t know how to process it.
“Please,” he whispers as he gently grips my wrist and draws me towards him.
His calloused palm dwarfs my hand as he carefully unfurls my fingers.
“You have your life, your future, your … heart,” he whispers, as he picks up the damp square of cloth and resumes dragging it over my blood-stained hand. “That is enough to lose.”
“None of those things are mine anymore, Vexar.”
He makes another pained sound. “This should not have been your path. You are—” His hand stills, and he shakes his head. “My blood should not stain your hands.”
“I didn’t do this for you,” I whisper, knowing it’s a lie.
“When the guards come, I will not let them take you,” Vexar says, breaking the silence.
I glance up from the side of the bed, feeling a new weight settle between my shoulders. He can’t save me from this, and I get the feeling that when he figures that out, it’s going to break him.
With a sigh, I ask, “And how are you going to do that?”
“When they come, I will demand you stay here, with me, until I finish my fights.”
I drop my gaze back to his side and finish throwing the knot I was working on. “I don’t think they’re gonna go for that. I’m a criminal, remember? Besides, staying here with you won’t get me any closer to where I need to be.”
He grunts a sound of disapproval. “What if I ensure Gaius is brought to justice through the proper channels? Would that change your mind?”
Would that change my mind? I don’t know. If I thought he could actually follow through, maybe, but he’s injured, and he still has more fights. And if that sinking feeling in my spine is correct, surviving this place won’t be as easy as he thinks.
With a sigh, I ask, “Why didn’t you hire a male nurse to be on standby for you?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I know. Just … humor me, please.”
“Because I should not have needed medical care at all,”
“Sure. Ok,” I agree. “But in the event that you were injured, what was the plan?”
“I should not have been—”
“Jesus! Ok. I get it. You’re a really great fighter, and you weren’t supposed to get hurt.”
He looks at me like I’ve slapped him in the face, but there’s a flicker of something else there too. Interest? Curiosity? I look away when I finally recognize it. Lust.
Fucking hell. Is that why he wants to keep me alive?
I shake off the fluttering in my stomach and press onward. “What I’m trying to say is that you’re next in line for the throne of an empire. Don’t you think it’s a little risky to not have a backup plan?”
He scoffs as if it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard. “My people are a people of honor. It would have been dishonorable for me to bend the rules for little more than a safety net.”
“So there was no other way to ensure you didn’t die from an injury?” I ask, as I set down my tools and rub my temples.
“There was another way, but it would have been more dishonorable than bending the rules.”
“And that was …?”
“A proposal. Had I accepted it, my vow would have been nullified, and I could have received medical care.”
“A proposal? Like, for marriage?”
He thinks for a moment before saying, “Pairing. Mates. Yes.”
A surprising surge of jealousy hits me at the thought of him ‘mating’ with someone, and I nearly groan. This is getting ridiculous. I can’t keep having these thoughts.
Returning my focus to the conversation, I ask, “And you didn’t accept the proposal, even though it would’ve gotten you medical care?”
He looks at my mouth for a moment before answering. “She was a poor match, selected by my government. It was expected that I would agree to that proposal, but I could not. Her family has long sought control over the empire, and I am certain a pairing with her would have ended in my death.”
That sinking feeling deepens as I study his expression. He seems entirely unaware of the implications of what he’s just said, and I can’t figure out why. He’s smart. That much is clear. But it’s like he has a giant blind spot.
Brows furrowed, I ask, “And that doesn’t make you even a little concerned?”
“What are you insinuating?”
I throw my hands up. “I just think it’s strange that any empire would let its soon-to-be emperor bleed out for no reason. Don’t you?”
“We are a people of honor. If I had died here, it would have been an honorable death.”
I still can’t tell if my observations are completely off-base, or if his honor-tinted glasses are so thick he can’t see what’s right in front of him. Either way, I’m more certain now than I was before that he isn’t supposed to leave here alive.
“I need you to explain your arrangement with Gaius,” Vexar says, interrupting my questions about his family.
After learning about his refused marriage proposal, I was curious and kept probing him about his family and his culture.
Turns out, him turning down that proposal was a big deal, and I’m sort of impressed that he was willing to do it.
I assumed he was more of a ‘by the rules’ kinda guy, but maybe I’m wrong.
I push the hair out of my face with the back of my hand and ask, “What do you want to know?”
“All details regarding your contract and the events that preceded your arrival here.”
My stomach drops a bit, and I set down my tools. “Why do you want to know?” This is the last topic I want to talk about, so unless he has a good reason, I’m not revisiting it.
“I want to help you, and to do that, I need to understand your situation.”
“Help me … how?”
“By getting you out of here and ensuring Gaius faces consequences for his actions.”
With the quickly darkening sky outside, the warm glow of the cell’s lamp has begun to cast long shadows on the walls. I stare at the dark void cast by Vexar’s horns and shift on the soft pillow beneath my knees. I don’t know how to respond. He’s so dead-set on keeping me alive.
My eyes lock on his. “Why do you care so much if I make it out of here alive?”
The muscles in his jaw tick. “You saved my life, and I”—he sighs—“admire your ferocity.” He brushes a hand over his chest before adding, “I also believe in what you are fighting for.”
“And having this information will help?”
“It will. Greatly.”
Even if he can’t save me, it’s probably good he knows what’s going on.
“Alright,” I say, trying to steel myself for what I know is going to be a painful conversation. Immediately, my hands start to shake, and my heart rate soars.
“Are you well?” Vexar asks, his accent thicker than normal.
“Yeah,” I say, rubbing my eyes. “It’s just not my favorite topic.
” My skin turns to melted ice, and I blow out a heavy breath.
I can do this. “They … uh, the people on the ship. The aliens.” My lungs tighten.
“Fuck…” Images of the box flash through my mind, and my teeth grind together as I try to keep myself in the present.
“There was a document. I think.” The sharp metallic scent of the ship burns my nose.
I swallow and try to focus on the pattern of the deep red stains covering the bedsheet in front of me.
“They showed it to me, but I couldn't read it. Different language, I think.” If I tilt my head a little, that stain kind of looks like a cloud. “They were talking so fast. Said I had to bleed? I didn’t…” I close my eyes, willing away the intense surge of fear. It’s over. You’re safe. “They—”
The dam breaks, adrenaline surges, and I fold in on myself, wrapping my arms around my torso like I might be able to hold myself together.
“Amara?” Vexar whispers.
Something touches my shoulder, and I flinch back.
“Don’t,” I rasp. I don’t want him to touch me.
I don’t want him to look at me, or talk to me, or even acknowledge me right now.
I drop my head into my lap, gripping my hair tight enough to hurt.
I hate that my body does this. I fucking hate it so much.
There’s no easy way out. No ‘emergency eject’ button.
I just have to sit in it and wait for it to pass.
I shake as my nervous system reacts to the past like it’s still happening. Like I’ve just been ripped out of that fucking box. The smell of death and shit and sour bodies surrounds me, but I’m still here. The memory hasn’t pulled me under. Not fully.
The air around me shifts, and I can feel the radiating heat of Vexar’s legs as he drops them on either side of me. I want to tell him to lay back down, but I think his nearness is actually helping.
“I am sorry,” he whispers. He doesn’t touch me again. He just sits there. Inches away. Breathing steadily. Waiting.
After a few agonizing moments, my head clears enough that I can finish what I started.
Keeping my face in my lap, I say, “I couldn’t read the contract.
They pricked my thumb and pressed it to something.
I don’t know what happened after that.” When the words are out, I feel marginally better, and after maybe a minute, I’m able to sit up again.
I feel shaky and horrible, but at this point, I’m used to it.
I look up at Vexar, expecting pity, but there’s no pity on his face. He looks calm, hands folded in his lap, blood oozing down his side, and a soft expression on his face.
“Do you have any idea what the contract said?” he asks.
I roll my shoulders and wipe my eyes with the backs of my hands.
“I asked Solta to get me a copy. She said she couldn’t and that I wouldn’t be able to read it anyway.
When I asked if she could tell me what it said, she told me I’d have to work five years to pay off my debt, and then I’d be free.
But that’s a lie. There is no debt, and no one leaves here alive. ”
His brows dip, and he leans forward enough that I can smell the warm scent of his skin. “Why do you believe that?”
“All the other nurses were told the same thing, and most of them have been here for a lot longer than five years. Some of them have been here for most of their lives.”
Vexar rubs a hand down his face, but his calm expression doesn’t change. I want to thank him for not trying to coddle me. For not looking at me like I’m broken. But I don’t.
“You should lay back down,” I say.