Then he went limp. Not dead yet, but if she held on a few moments longer…
If you kill him, you’ll never know the truth of what happened to Yrina. The thought sent a rush of panic through her, and Zarrah let go of Keris’s throat, rolling him off her. For a heartbeat, she stared at him, certain that she’d gone too far, but then he sucked in a ragged gasp of breath, eyes fluttering open, his gaze unfocused. He started to sit, but she straddled him, pinning his wrists to the thick carpet beneath him.
“Tell me what happened. All of it,” she said. “Leave nothing out.”
Keris sucked in breath after breath, but then he met her gaze. “I didn’t know they’d captured Yrina until my father brought me down to her cell,” he said. “There was no way to get her out; there were too many guards. And even if it had been possible, Serin had… hurt her in ways that weren’t survivable.”
Tortured her. Zarrah’s chest constricted, her mind supplying endless visions of what Yrina must have endured.
“My father gave me the choice: to kill her or to allow her to die a slow, painful death. I… Mercy was the only thing I could give.”
Mercy. Her tongue felt thick, her throat tight. “Serin said you did it to earn your father’s favor.”
Keris gave her a sideways glance. “You believed him?” He gave a sharp shake of his head. “Serin used Yrina’s death to manipulate your emotions. To drive you toward a purpose. To…”
“Kill you.” Zarrah bit the insides of her cheeks, realizing now that the guards abandoning their station had been no misstep. The Magpie had known exactly where she’d go. Which meant he knew she was in here, and now she’d have to face either the consequences of having attacked Keris or questions she couldn’t answer for why she hadn’t killed him when given the chance. “I allowed grief to blind me, and I believed the worst.”
“Sometimes the worst is true.”
Silence stretched between them, then he said, “I should’ve told you about Yrina, but I didn’t want to hurt you. Didn’t want you to hate me.” He sucked in a ragged breath. “It was the act of a coward.”
How would she have reacted if he’d told her? Would she have been reasonable? Would she have listened to his explanation? Or would she have lashed out in grief? Zarrah wasn’t certain, but she did know that she’d rather have heard of Yrina’s death from Keris than from Serin. “You should have told me.” She swallowed hard. “Please don’t keep things from me. Even if they hurt, I need to know.” She looked down at him, meeting his gaze. “I can’t trust someone who deceives me, no matter the motivations. Yrina’s death was not your decision, but you chose to keep it from me. Chose to avoid me rather than to face the consequences of the truth.”
Keris exhaled a long breath. “I’m sorry. For deceiving you, but also for my part in her death.”
“You offered her mercy.” And she knew better than most that to be merciful often necessitated bravery, but God help her, this hurt. It was her decisions that had brought Yrina here, which made her more the cause of her friend’s death than anyone.
“I told her the truth. About you and me.”
A flicker of panic bit at her guts, fear that in learning the truth, Yrina had spent her last moments feeling betrayed. That she’d died believing Zarrah was a traitor. “Why?”
“So she’d know you weren’t alone. So she’d have the peace of knowing that someone was trying to get you free.”
“Then you should have told her you were negotiating with the Empress. She knows my aunt would never abandon me to die.”
His jaw tightened. “The Empress personally gave the order that no one was to go after you. Yrina defied the order.”
A jolt ran through Zarrah, her breaths coming quickly yet not seeming to deliver air. “So she died a traitor to the crown and knowing that I lied to her.”
Silence.
“She didn’t care about any of that, Valcotta. She willingly chose death to protect you, and her last words were to request I tell you that she loves you.”
A knife to the heart would have hurt less, and Zarrah doubled over, forehead pressed against his chest as she fought to breathe. “Was it quick? Please tell me you made it quick.”
“It was quick.”
There was something about his tone that told her what his words did not. “She did it herself, didn’t she? You weren’t the one who killed her.”
He didn’t answer, and she looked up to see that his eyes were closed, fingers pressed to his temples and face pale. “Keris?”
“I hesitated.” The words caught as he added, “I wanted a chance to think of a solution, a way out, but…”
Of course he had. Of course he’d refuse to concede to death being the solution. “Sometimes, there is no way out.”
His eyes snapped open. “I will get you out, Valcotta. One way or another.”
Except she hadn’t come to this place to escape. She’d come for blood and vengeance. But for all her admonitions about honesty and trust, she couldn’t tell him that. So Zarrah only gave him a tight nod, easing her grip on his wrists.
But she didn’t climb off him, remaining where she was, straddling his hips. Rising meant leaving, and she didn’t want to be alone in her grief. In her guilt.
Keris shifted beneath her, fingers interlocking with hers, and the tenuous control she had over her emotions shivered. Her chest was so tight, and she feared if she opened her clenched jaw, a sob would tear loose. Yet she managed to say, “I should go. I need to go. Serin knows I’m here.”
Instead of answering, Keris sat upright, and Zarrah instinctively shifted her weight so that her legs were wrapped around him, resting her forehead on his shoulder. She exhaled, shuddering, and tears forced themselves free. Don’t cry, she told herself. You’re strong.
Not strong enough.
A sob ripped from her lips with such ferocity she thought it would tear her apart. Might have torn her apart, except Keris wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. Holding her together as sob after painful sob clawed its way out of her body. Only when they eased did he loosen his grip, one hand moving up and down her naked back.
The sensation sent a stab of heat into her core, igniting a throb between her legs, and she clung to the sensation rather than attempting to vanquish it. Focused on how the silk skirt of her dress was pushed up to her waist and that she wore nothing beneath, her naked sex pressed against him. On how the lowcut neckline had pulled sideways to expose one of her breasts. On how the growing hardness beneath her betrayed that he’d noticed these things as well.
She ground her hips against him, her desire ratcheting higher as he groaned softly, his fingers trailing over her naked thighs. Then he said, “You need to get out of the tower before Serin comes looking. He can’t catch us like this.”