But no matter how she tried to force him from her mind, thoughts of Keris crept in. His velvet voice filled her head, each blink of her eyes showing images of him reading from a book, every inhalation bringing the phantom scent of spice that she’d recognize for the rest of her life, and in every life to come.
Her aunt’s voice rose in response, hissing, The rat knew you were Valcottan. That you were a soldier. Your speech would have told him you were from a certain class, and therefore a certain rank. All of which made you a challenge worthy of his attention. A prize to be claimed, and a prize to be used once he learned just how valuable you truly were. The words tarnished her memories, giving them new and darker meanings, and Zarrah bit her lip. Had those clues about her identity been the reason that Keris had continued to meet with her? Had she been a challenge in a sea of women who were no challenge to him at all? Was that what had attracted him to her?
No. She gave her head a sharp shake. It was because we were like-minded. Because we both saw the same flaws in the world and were impassioned to fix them.
You are Keris Veliant’s victim. Zarrah could almost feel her aunt stroking her brow. Consoling her.
It made her stomach turn.
Scrubbing at her eyes, Zarrah rolled on her side to stare at the flames. Daria and Saam sat on the far side, playing some sort of game with rocks, but she ignored them and pulled the ragged piece of salvaged sailcloth higher on her shoulders against the chill. There was frost in the air. Saam had mumbled earlier about how it wouldn’t be long until the snow was thick and food even scarcer than it was now, but Zarrah didn’t want to think about that any more than she wanted to listen to her aunt pick apart her time with Keris.
Finding a way to escape. That was what mattered. And not just her, but all these people her aunt had unlawfully imprisoned. Waiting for the rebel commander to decide they warranted the risk of liberation wasn’t good enough. That could be months. Years.
It could be never.
Across the fire, she watched Saam lean in to kiss Daria, but she only laughed and shoved him away. “You’re not getting out of patrol that easily,” she said, and Saam groaned and rose to his feet.
Leaning down, he kissed her again. “Later?”
“If you’re lucky.” Daria watched him leave, a faint smile on her face. Noticing Zarrah was watching her, she said, “Did you have someone before your murderous ways got you tossed into this shithole?”
“Was already over at that point,” Zarrah muttered.
“Who was he? Or she?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Daria leaned forward to warm her hands over the fire. “It’s important to remember life before you were trapped in this place. To remember who you were, so that when we escape, we can be those people again and not starved animals with no memory of humanity.”
“What if I don’t want to be the woman I was before?”
Daria tilted her head, considering. “Why not?”
“That woman was a pawn who was endlessly manipulated by those she cared for. I don’t want to be her. I want—” She broke off, shaking her head.
“Sounds like it ended badly.”
“Yes.” Zarrah stared blindly at the embers. “It was always destined to. He … he was Maridrinian.”
Neither of them spoke for a time. Then Daria said, “Remember what I said about Petra’s poisoned cup? She wants every person in Valcotta to hold hate in their hearts for Maridrinians because it But no matter how she tried to force him from her mind, thoughts of Keris crept in. His velvet voiceserves her purpose. By doing so, you give her what she wants.”
“I don’t hate Maridrinians.” Zarrah sat upright, tucking the sail around her hips. “Far from it. But that doesn’t mean I’m foolish enough to think that there is a future for a relationship with one.”
Daria burst into laughter, then shouted, “Hey!” at top volume. “Which of you fools has some Maridrinian blood in you?”
A chorus of hoots filled the air, and Zarrah’s chest tightened with an emotion she couldn’t name.
“You think that out of the millions of Valcottans, no one has swooned over a Maridrinian?” Daria cackled, slapping a hand against her thigh. “Oh sure, it’s forbidden in Nerastis and Pyrinat, for those are directly beneath the bitch’s eye, but I can assure that elsewhere—especially in the south—very few care. I expect it’s much the same in Maridrina, where those closest to the Veliants spew hate while the rest just pray for an end to the fighting.”
Even in Nerastis, Zarrah had seen many who’d clearly come from unions between Maridrina and Valcotta, but that was different. They weren’t under the bitch’s eye, as Daria had so eloquently described it, whereas Zarrah was at the very center of its focus. Which she could hardly explain, just as she could hardly admit that the Maridrinian in question was the current king. “Fair enough, but there were other reasons.”
“Do tell. I hope they will be as compelling as the first.”
Zarrah snorted at Daria’s sarcasm, but the question dug into her soul. “He … he loved me in a way mumbled earlier about how it wouldn’t be long until the snow was thick and food even scarcer than it that caused a great deal of harm to others. Was so fixated with the need to protect me that he couldn’t was now, but Zarrah didn’t want to think about that any more than she wanted to listen to her aunt picklet me be me when being me put my life at risk. He treated me like his queen.”
“But you want to be Empress.”
“Yes.” Zarrah twitched, realizing how close she was to a very damaging truth, so she laughed and added, “Metaphorically.”
“We are all poets here.” Daria grinned, then she leaned forward. “But a more important question
…”
Zarrah tensed, afraid of what the woman might ask.
“Did he have a big cock?”
A laugh tore from her lips, and Zarrah snatched up a handful of dirt and chucked it across the fire at Daria. “That’s an important question?”
“A big cock can make up for a small man.” Several of the other women in camp shouted their agreement.
Picking up a piece of wood, Zarrah added it to the fire. For all his failings, Keris was a force to be reckoned with. “Nothing about him was small.”
“Hmm.” Daria gave an approving nod, and then her expression turned more serious. “Some women desire a man who will burn the world to be with her. Some desire a man who will save the world at the cost of her. Which sort of man he is may be beyond your control, but you can choose which woman you wish to be.”
Wisdom on a prison island in the middle of nowhere, yet Zarrah couldn’t deny the truth of those words. But none of that mattered. It was over between her and Keris. He’d moved on with Lestara, and the chances of her ever seeing him in this lifetime again were small enough to be nonexistent. So instead of looking at the stars, Zarrah met Daria’s gaze. “Tell me more about the rebels’ plans.”
“Yes.” Zarrah stared blindly at the embers. “It was always destined to. He … he was Maridrinian.”
Even in Nerastis, Zarrah had seen many who’d clearly come from unions between Maridrina and Valcotta, but that was different. They weren’t under the bitch’s eye, as Daria had so eloquently described it, whereas Zarrah was at the very center of its focus. Which she could hardly explain, just as she could hardly admit that the Maridrinian in question was the current king. “Fair enough, but there were other reasons.”
“Do tell. I hope they will be as compelling as the first.”
Zarrah snorted at Daria’s sarcasm, but the question dug into her soul. “He … he loved me in a way that caused a great deal of harm to others. Was so fixated with the need to protect me that he couldn’t let me be me when being me put my life at risk. He treated me like his queen.”
“But you want to be Empress.”
“Yes.” Zarrah twitched, realizing how close she was to a very damaging truth, so she laughed and added, “Metaphorically.”
“We are all poets here.” Daria grinned, then she leaned forward. “But a more important question
…”
Zarrah tensed, afraid of what the woman might ask.
“Did he have a big cock?”