Rising on wobbly knees, Zarrah gripped the bars and faced him. She wanted to scream, How could you? Wanted to hammer her fists against the bars with all the rage in her chest, all the hurt in her heart, if for no other reason than to get a reaction from him. Yet she clung to her composure. “Come to preen?”
Keris shrugged, then brushed a fleck of lint off one shoulder. “Tempting, but better to wait until you’re safely delivered to Vencia. Accidents happen, after all, and I wouldn’t care to embarrass myself by celebrating too soon.” He gave her a weighted look that her battered brain couldn’t process, then waved a hand at one of the guards. “Go. I wish to speak to General Anaphora, and she’s more likely to speak freely without you staring daggers at her.”
“I must advise against you being alone with her, Your Highness. She’s more dangerous than she looks.”
“Then how fortunate she’s locked in a cage.” Keris turned to glare at the man. “Go.”
Given she could barely stand, Zarrah didn’t feel very dangerous at all. And yet she readied herself to reach through the bars. If she could take him hostage, escape might be possible. And if not that, she’d satisfy herself with taking his life before his countrymen took hers.
Heart in her throat, she watched as the soldier’s jaw worked back and forth, a rush of anticipation filling her when he saluted sharply and strode down the hall. Only when the sound of his footfalls had faded did Keris turn back to her, the blithe indifference gone from his face, his expression heavy with concern. “How badly are you hurt?”
“What do you care?” It took concerted effort not to spit the words in his face, but she needed to lure him closer, not drive him back.
“Given I just ordered a man whipped to death in order to protect your life, I’d say a great deal.”
He gripped the metal just above her hands. Well within reach, if she was quick. And yet Zarrah stood frozen in place as he added, “I’m going to get you out of this, but I need your help.”
All the flippancy was gone, his gaze intense. The prince was vanquished, and the Maridrinian stood before her once more. Yet logic screamed at her not to trust him. That this was only a ruse. That she should attack. But Zarrah only stared at him, tasting the blood now dripping from her nose, his face blurring in and out of focus.
“Damn it.” White fabric appeared in his hand to press against her nose. His fingers were warm where they brushed her skin. “I know your head is rattled, Valcotta, but you need to focus. I’ve only got a minute before Otis comes barreling down here in my defense.”
Valcotta. Zarrah’s legs shook, only her grip on the bars holding her upright. And behind the Maridrinian, the light pulsed.
“I can’t keep you here,” he said. “Nerastis is too lawless, too wild. It’s only a matter of time until someone murders you in your cell.”
“Then let me go.” Her tongue felt thick, and it took all her concentration to form the words.
“If I thought they’d listen, I’d give the order,” he said. “But there isn’t a chance of them allowing you to go free, and Otis has half the garrison guarding you for fear of an escape or rescue attempt. To get you free, we must leave Nerastis.”
His voice sounded far away, as though they stood atop the dam with the spillway between them once more.
“I’m going to argue that your value as a political prisoner demands the crown decide your fate, which means bringing you to Vencia. Along the way, I need your people to attack our party to liberate you.”
Her mind sharpened for a heartbeat, seeing the trick. Seeing his endgame. “Kiss my ass.” Her heart was racing so swiftly, she swore it would wrench from her chest. “You think I’m such a fool as to lead my people into an ambush?”
His jaw tightened, likely from anger that her battered brain saw through his plan. “I intend no such thing. Which I realize requires you trusting me, but—”
Rage flared in Zarrah’s chest, though it wasn’t for him. It was for herself. “I did trust you. So it’s no wonder you think me the fool.”
Silence.
She watched his throat move as he swallowed, his eyes narrowing with frustration or anger, she wasn’t sure which. Then he closed them.
Grab him, a voice screamed inside her head. Capture him! Kill him! Do something!
“You’ve no reason to believe me, Valcotta, but I had nothing to do with your capture beyond being the reason you were here in the first place.”
“Liar!” She gave her head a sharp shake, but it only caused pain to lance through her skull and nausea to swirl in her stomach.
“I warned you not to go. I told you to wait until nightfall. But you were too busy being horrified over my family name to see reason.”
“Your father murdered my mother,” she snarled. “Laughed as he cut off her head and had his men stake up her corpse. Laughed as he put her head in my lap and left me for dead!” And instead of striking a blow against him by killing his son, she’d fallen into bed with him.
He recoiled. “My father killed your mother? I—”
“You’re the same as him. All the Veliants are.” She coughed on the blood dripping down the back of her throat. “You’re monsters, just like him.”
He flinched, then shook his head. “I’m nothing like him.”
“Says the man who just ordered someone whipped to death.”
“To protect you!”
“Do you really expect me to believe that?” She spit blood on the floor in front of him. “The spies said you were a womanizer and a drunk, but they also said you were very clever. Don’t think for a moment I’ll fall for more of your trickery. I see who you are now.”
His grip on the bars tightened, his knuckles blanching, and her eyes went to them, remembering what it had felt like to be touched by those hands. It had felt so real. Had felt so right. How could she have felt that way about someone so heartless? So cruel? “You’ll have to content yourself with my death,” she whispered, her eyes burning. “For I won’t allow you to use me against my people.”
Then her knees buckled and Zarrah collapsed, feeling his hands catch her around the waist as he said, “Goddamn your honor!”
Honor was all she had left, tarnished though it was.
He lowered her to the ground, then Zarrah felt his hand curve around her cheek, lifting her face to look at him. “I’m not allowing you to die just because you had the misfortune of crossing paths with me, Valcotta.” His throat moved as he swallowed. “Zarrah.”
Her chest tightened, and she pulled away from him, slumping against the stone floor, her body cold. “Kill me. Or leave me. Or if you must stay, know your words fall upon ears now wise to your deception.”
Silence stretched between them, broken by a loud bang and the shout of, “Keris!”
He glanced down the hall, then leaned forward. “If you give up now, you’ll never have vengeance. My father wins.”
Zarrah squeezed her eyes shut, seeing Silas Veliant’s face. Hearing him laugh and laugh and laugh as her mother’s blood rained down upon her.
“Fight to live,” Keris said, “and you will live to fight.”
Live to fight.