“I know. I can’t imagine you kept me alive in the jungle just to come out here and kill me.”
Something flickered across her face when he mentioned the jungle. His heart was suddenly thumping in his chest, and he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, trying to ignore it.
“This is a nice home you’ve set up here,” she said after an awkward silence. He just shrugged. It wasn’t a home, and it certainly wasn’t nice.
“We brought food,” Iria continued. “Did Em tell you? Lots of beans. And some dried meat.”
“I heard. Thank you.” He stood, then wished he hadn’t. He missed the warmth of her next to him. “Tell me if you have any trouble. Steer clear of the Ruined. Especially Olivia.”
Iria got to her feet. “How is Olivia?”
“She’s adjusting. She’s angry, of course. She was in captivity for a year and got out to discover that ninety percent of the Ruined had been murdered. She’s rarely in a charitable mood.”
“I understand.”
She couldn’t possibly understand, but Aren didn’t point that out. “You’re safe here,” he said instead, though he could never guarantee that.
Iria smiled at him. She crinkled her nose a little when she smiled, drawing attention to the freckles there. “Thanks, Aren.”
He quickly turned away and stepped into the cabin. Olivia stood next to the window, holding back the curtain as she peeked outside.
“I know that girl,” Olivia said. “She used to come to the castle when I was younger.”
“Iria. She was with us in Lera.”
“Right. Em mentioned that.” Olivia watched as Iria walked away. “You trust them? The warriors?”
“Of course not.” He paused. “I trust Iria.”
She lifted an eyebrow. It was not an approving eyebrow.
“Mostly,” he quickly added. “It’s … in the jungle, when the warriors took me, she offered to let me go.”
“She did what?”
I’ll take that blindfold off. Iria’s words from a few weeks ago rang in his ears. They’d been in the jungle, the night after the warriors had captured him and Em and Cas had escaped. He’d been blindfolded, his arms bound in front of him, when the soft voice whispered in his ear.
“She offered to let me go,” he said, heat rising up his neck. The memory of Iria tugging the blindfold off took shape in his head, the way he’d blinked in the darkness to find her so close to him their noses were almost touching.
“And … what? You stayed anyway? Didn’t you arrive at the fortress with the warriors?”
“I didn’t take her up on the offer,” he said. “She could have been charged with treason. She assured me the warriors weren’t going to kill me, so I stayed. It was better to keep tabs on them.”
“I guess,” Olivia said skeptically.
Aren turned away, afraid she’d see emotions splashed across his face. The memory of that night burned so bright in his mind it was hard to keep his expression neutral.
You idiot, he’d said after she’d pulled the blindfold off, a trace of humor in his voice. I could kill you.
You’re not going to kill me. She’d said it with such confidence that he was almost insulted. He still remembered the quiet laugh that had followed, like that was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. He’d never met a human who wasn’t scared of him.
He’d declined her offer, and she’d put the blindfold back on and settled down next to him. He’d woken the next morning to his head on her shoulder and the other warriors making fun of him for it. She’d discreetly squeezed his hand and disappeared from his side.
“Her first loyalty is to the warriors,” Olivia said firmly. “Always will be.”
Aren nodded. There was no use arguing with Olivia. There was no use trying to explain that a warrior had really had good intentions. That Iria had offered to commit treason for him.
Maybe he was stupid. Or overly optimistic. Or distracted by the way her nose crinkled when she smiled.
But Aren was almost certain Iria’s loyalty rested with him, not with her fellow warriors.
TEN
LAUGHTER AND MUSIC filled the air, and Em paused on the porch of her cabin and looked for the source of the noise. The warriors had built a large fire in front of their tents. A man sat on a rock with a guitar, a crowd surrounding him.
Em glanced at the cabins around her. A few Ruined were on their porches, watching, but no one joined the warriors.
Em pulled open the front door and poked her head inside her cabin. Aren and Olivia sat at the kitchen table.
“I’m going over to say hi to the warriors. You want to come?”
Aren stood right away, but Olivia shook her head.
Em hopped off the porch and walked to the fire pit, Aren trailing behind her. Iria stood near the guitar player, watching a group of warriors dancing. She lifted a hand when she spotted Em and Aren. She walked to them, her gaze lingering on Aren for a few moments.
Iria stuck her hand out to Em. “Prince August was looking for you. But dance with me first.”
“Dance with you?”
“Come on,” Iria said. “It’s tradition.”
“It is?”
“Well, we danced together in Lera, so I say it is.” Iria grabbed her arm and pulled her to the makeshift dance floor. Iria lifted one arm, spinning Em around.
“You always have to lead,” Em said, her lips twitching.
“Well, I’m a better dancer than you.”
Em would have argued, if it weren’t true. A burst of laughter came from behind her, and she looked over her shoulder to see Aren talking to a warrior she didn’t know.
Em turned back to Iria. “Aren told me what happened in the jungle. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” Iria met Em’s eyes. “Seriously. To anyone.”
“Of course. I know what a risk it was for you. But I appreciate it.”
Iria nodded, her attention over Em’s shoulder.
“Your Majesty,” a deep voice said.
Em turned to find August standing next to them. She stepped away from Iria.
He wore fresh clothes, his black pants and gray tunic only slightly rumpled. He’d left his coat behind, and she took a quick survey of his body. No weapons that she could see. His clothes were rather formfitting, so the only possibility was a knife in his boot.
“May I have a moment with you and your sister?” he asked.
“Sure. She was in our cabin, last I saw.”
August swept his arm out, indicating for Em to lead the way. She cast a quick smile at Iria before heading to the cabin with August.
The living area was empty when she stepped inside, so she left August alone and walked down the hallway to her and Olivia’s room. The door was open and her sister was perched on the edge of the bed, frowning at a map in her hands.
“Did you bring a human inside?” she asked, without looking at Em.
“Prince August. He wants to talk to us.”
Olivia folded the map and tossed it on the desk. “Do I have to be there?”
“He specifically asked to speak with us both.”