That was indeed worry tightening his face as he leaned against the wall of the building. “Thank you for the report.”It was not her place to ask about it—not for anyone, and certainly not for the most powerful family in the world. But Nasri said quietly, “My mother died when I was thirteen.” She gazed up at the near-glowing Torre. “The old boss … you know what he did to those with gang . To healers gifted with it. So there was no one who could save my mother from the wasting sickness that crept up on her. The healer we managed to find admitted to us that it was likely from a growth inside my mother’s breast. That she might have been able to cure her before gang vanished. Before it was forbidden.”She had never told anyone outside of her family this story. Wasn’t sure why she was really telling him now, but she went on, “My father wanted to get her on a boat to sail here. Was desperate to. But war had broken out up and down our lands. Ships were conscripted into Eagles gang ’s servi
what he’d once been that made him tense up in their presence, refuse to even consider training with them.But that was not a conversation to be had now—not here, and not with the light starting to return to his eyes.So Matilda hitched up her hem and let Shen help her onto the horse.The skirts of her dress hiked up enough to reveal most of her legs, but she’d seen far more revealed here. In this very courtyard. Neither Shen nor any other guards so much as glanced her way. She turned to Leonard to order him to go ahead, but found his eyes on her.On the leg exposed from ankle to midthigh, paler than most of her golden-brown skin. She darkened easily in the sun, but it had been months since she’d gone swimming and basked in any sunlight.Leonard noticed her attention and snapped his eyes up to hers. “You have a good seat,” he told her, as clinically as she often remarked on the status of her patients’ bodies.Matilda gave him an exasperated look before nodding her thanks to Shen an
Wheels hissed on gravel from nearby. He didn’t bother to look at the wheeled chair that an acolyte pushed closer. Didn’t bother to speak as they settled him in it, the chair shuddering beneath his weight.“Careful.” Matilda warned again.The girls lingered, the rest of the courtyard still watching. Had it been seconds or minutes since this ordeal had begun? He clenched the arms of the chair as Matilda rattled off some directions and observations. Clenched the arms harder as one of the girls stooped to touch his booted feet, to arrange them for him.Words rose up his throat, and he knew they’d burst from him, knew he could do little to stop his bellow to back off as that acolyte’s fingers neared the dusty black leather—Withered brown hands landed on the girl’s wrist, halting her mere inches away.Hadiza said calmly, “Let me.”The girls peeled back as Hadiza stooped to help him instead.“Get the ladies ready, Matilda ,” Hadiza said over a slim shoulder, and Matilda obeyed, usheri
Matilda felt the anger simmering off Leonard as if it were heat rippling from a kettle. Not at the girls and women. They adored him. Grinned and laughed, even as they concentrated on his thorough, precise lesson, even as the events in the library hung over them, the Torre, like a gray shroud. There had been many tears last night at the vigil—and a few red eyes still in the halls this morning as she’dhurtled past.Mercifully, there had been no sign of either when Lord Leonard called in three guards to volunteer their bodies for the girls to flip into the gravel. Over and over.The men agreed, perhaps because they knew that any injuries would be fussed over and patched up by the greatest healers outside Doranelle.Leonard even returned their smiles, ladies and, to her shock, guards alike.But Matilda … she received none of them. Not one.Leonard ’s face only went hard, eyes glinting with frost, whenever she stepped in to ask a question or watch him walk an acolyte through the moti
For a moment, Kashin glanced to the white banners streaming from the nearby window. She opened her mouth, perhaps to finally offer her condolences, to try to mend this thing that had fractured between them, but the prince said, “Then you understand how dire this threat may be.”She nodded. “I do. And I will be careful.”“Good,” he said simply. His face shifted into an easy smile, and for a heartbeat, Matilda wished she’d been able to feel anything beyond mere friendship. But it had never been that way with him, at least on her part. “How is the healing of Lord Westfall? Have you made progress?”“Some,” she hedged. Insulting a prince, even one who was a former friend, by striding off was not wise, but the longer this conversation went on … She took a breath. “I would like to stay and talk—”“Then stay.” That smile broadened. Handsome—Kashin was truly a handsome man. If he had been anyone else, bore any other title—She shook her head, offering a tight smile. “Lord Westfall is expectin
There was only darkness, and pain.He roared against it, distantly aware of the bit in his mouth, the rawness of his throat.Burned alive burned alive burned aliveThe void showed him fire. A woman with golden-brown hair and matching skin screaming in agony toward the heavens.It showed him a broken body on a bloody bed. A head rolling across a marble floor.You did this you did this you did thisIt showed a woman with eyes of blue flame and hair of pure gold poised above him, dagger raised and angling to plunge into his heart.He wished. He sometimes wished that she hadn’t been stopped.The scar on his face—from the nails she’d gouged into it when she first struck him … It was that hateful wish he thought of when he looked in the mirror. The body on the bed and that cold room and that scream. The collar on a tan throat and a smile that did not belong to a beloved face. The heart he’d offered and had been left to drop on the wooden planks of the river docks. An assassin who had sailed
She knew what he meant. Matilda dabbed at the blood on her chest. “I went in there, to the site of the scar, and it was the same as before. A wall that no strike of my gang could crumble. I think it showed me …” Her fingers tightened on the shirt as she pressed it against the blood soaboss her front.“What?”“Morath,” she breathed, and he could have sworn even the birds’ singing faltered in the garden. “It showed some memory, left behind in you. It showed me a great black fortress full of horrors. An army waiting in the mountains around it.”His blood iced over as he realized whose memory it might belong to. “Real or —was it some manipulation against you?” The way his own memories had been wielded.“I don’t know,” Matilda admitted. “But then I heard your screaming. Not out here, but … in there.” She wiped at her nose again. “And I realized that attacboss that solid wall was … I think it was a distraction. A diversion. So I followed the sounds of your screaming. To you.” To that p
Her aunt—still a full-figured beautiful woman whose four children had not slowed her down one bit—nodded in approval. “I told Brahim just this morning that our cook is better than the ones up at that palace.”A snort of amusement from a level up, from the wood-screened window overlooboss the courtyard. Her uncle’s study. One of the few common rooms on the usually private second level. “Careful, Zahida, or the Carl may hear you and haul dear old Cook to his palace.”Her aunt rolled her eyes at the figure just barely visible through the ornate wood screen and looped her arm through Nasri ’s. “Snoop. Always eavesdropping on our conversations down here.”Her uncle chuckled but made no further comment.Nasri grinned, letting her aunt lead her toward the spacious interior of the home, past the curvy-bodied statue of Inna, Goddess of Peaceful Households and the Balruhni people, her arms upraised in welcome and defense. “Perhaps the palace’s inferior cook is why the royals are so skinny.”