sigh, as if the entire thing were some terrible tragedy.
Sev gaped at her, unsurprised that she’d gleaned he’d been trying to escape but confused about her last comment. “Gold? What—”
She gestured for him to check his pack, a smug smile on her face. Frowning, Sev dug within its depths, drawing out a coin purse—one he most certainly had not packed—embroidered with Captain Belden’s initials in golden thread. When had she planted it on him? He’d never felt so much as a tug or brush against him.
“What did you . . . ? I never—how—” he blathered. She only smirked, snatching it from his hand in a lightning-fast move and making it disappear again.
“It would be a terrible thing to have to report you,” she said, her tone still heavy with feigned sorrow.
“No one would believe you,” he said faintly.
That had to be true. Sev was a soldier, one of the empire’s most celebrated servants—no matter how low he was on the food chain. This woman was a bondservant, a criminal.
It seemed she was following his train of thought. “Whether they believed my word or not, the facts would be stacked against you, boy. Stealing from the captain’s own personal stores, your fondness for poor sick animals stuck in trees. . . .”
Tingling, crackling fury was creeping up Sev’s neck.
“And that’s not to mention the way the other animals flock to you.”
“The animals don’t flock to me,” he said automatically, though he thought he already caught her meaning.
“Not yet they don’t.”
Sev stopped walking. He was truly and completely foxed.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked.
“I propose a deal: You give me what I want, and I give you what you want—an escape.”
“There you are,” came a low voice from the darkness of the camp. Sev blinked in surprise when the bondservant from earlier emerged. When he spotted Sev, he scowled. “What’s he doing here? And what’s . . . ?” he trailed off, eyeing the mess in Sev’s hair.
“We were talking,” Sev said shortly, tugging a rag from his pack and wiping angrily at his hair. “Me and . . . uh . . .”
“The soldiers and servants call me Thya,” she said, filling in the silence. “But I grow weary of it. I’d like something with more oomph, you know? More pizzazz.”
There was a pause. Sev was certain she was going to keep speaking, but she didn’t.
“Like what?” he prompted.
She pursed her lips. “I’m not sure yet. There’s so much in a name. . . . What’s yours again, boy? Seb?”
“Sev,” he corrected.
“Sev. A unique name. Ferronese, isn’t it? Short for Sevro?”
His brows rose. “Sevro” wasn’t so much a unique name as it was a rare one, even in Ferro where it originated—and where his father was from. People rarely guessed his Ferronese background, as he’d taken both the straight hair and warm brown skin from his mother’s Pyraean side. He did grow a bit paler in the winter months, though, and it was only just spring.
He nodded in confirmation, and she grinned. “Yes. Thought so—you’ve got hints of that olive-toned Ferronese glow about you. And those eyes are as golden-green as Teyke’s cat. He’s quite handsome for a soldier, isn’t he, Kade?”
Kade scowled, and Sev’s face grew hot under the attention of their stares. He jumped in before the bondservant could answer.
“Look, I don’t care what you want to be called,” he began, trying to get the conversation off his looks and back on point. “Just tell me—”
“Trix,” she announced, and Sev faltered.
“Uh, okay, fine. Trix—”
“Or Trixie? No, no, I take it back. Too silly. Trix is best.”
“Enough of this,” Kade growled, as fed up as Sev. He turned to Trix. “I need to talk to you.”
“So do I,” Sev cut in, stepping forward.
Kade glared at him, straightening his spine and filling the space between them with his broad chest. Sev might outrank him—just barely—but that meant nothing when they were standing alone in the dark with no commanding officers to keep order. Kade knew Sev was a green soldier, easier to stand up to and bully than someone like Ott, but Sev wasn’t going to be intimidated. This woman had just offered him an ultimatum—or maybe it was a threat—and he needed to understand what he’d gotten himself into.
“Well, now, an old lady could get used to this,” Trix said, eyes twinkling. “Come on, boys, let’s take a walk through the moonlight.”
She made for the darker cover of the forest thicket, away from the sleeping figures in the