for Hawks.” Tavin frowned. By dark, Fie could pretend she hadn’t polished away his scars. “He’s the sort of king who travels with half an army just to remind people he commands their blades. He wants people to think he’s dangerous. To treat him like he is.”
Fie remembered the first time she’d held Phoenix fire. She hadn’t wanted to burn the world down; she’d wanted the world to know she could.
“He’s a Phoenix witch,” she mumbled. “He’s a king. Isn’t that enough?”
Tavin shook his head. “Again.” Block. “He married Queen Jasindra mostly to add her to his armory. I was given to Jas so he could start his own Hawk collection.” Step in. “But Surimir wants an imitator, not a son. Jas has no interest in throwing himself parades or yanking half the Splendid Castes into his bed. The queen raised him to be a good ruler. I was raised to be a good Hawk. You can guess which of us the king thinks is useful.”
Strike.
She knew what he meant, yet she couldn’t help another jab. “And how does you tumbling all those palace waifs help the prince, then?”
Fie hid her delight when he actually slipped. Then she tripped on her own snare: he righted himself, all fluster and fumble, and Fie discovered she found that disturbingly close to charming. Damn him. Of course he’d find a way to make stumbling about attractive.
“It—it would have been cruel to ask for more,” he said, blunt. “To try to make anything last.” She lowered her scabbard, feeling as though she’d waded into waters deeper than she’d thought. “I’m a bastard, an heir to nothing. For ten years, I’ve been told my only purpose is to keep Jas alive. That the best thing I can do is die for him. Of course I met people I wanted, but how could I ask them to stay mine when I couldn’t truly be theirs?”
Any sneer or jest had long withered on Fie’s tongue. “You’re still going to disappear once we’re out of this. What are you going to tell him then?”
“The truth. Fie, I promised I’d do everything I can to help you. I brought this on your family. I owe you a debt. And my life will be my own to give, as long as you would have it.” He raised his scabbard, and something frighteningly near hope rose in his voice. “Again.”
Fie tried to order her whirlwind thoughts and couldn’t even see where to start. Tavin’s arm moved through the dark.
He truly meant to vanish.
Block.
He meant to help her. To do everything he could. But she’d thought—
Step in.
She’d told herself he only had a tourist’s interest in her. That he found her at best a useful ally to woo, at worst the makings of a lurid boast to scandalize the other Hawks.
Not someone worth everything he had to give.
Some distant side of her unspooled Jasimir’s words short hours ago: He saved your life.
Strike.
Tavin did not step back. Neither did she, lingering too close, far too close, locked in their makeshift duel.
“When you said you don’t do what you want…” She trailed off, knowing stark what she asked, too unsteady to say the words aloud.
He bent his head to her, near enough that his hair dusted her brow. Fie didn’t mean to turn her face up, but her chin had a mind of its own.
“You know what I mean,” he whispered.
Fie’s traitor heart thundered its assent, even as her mind rattled through its protests. She ought to run, to cool her head, if only her feet would cooperate—she had to run, she couldn’t have what she wanted—not the way she wanted him—
Yet Tavin moved first. His breath caught; she felt its absence on her cheeks.
And then he stepped back.
Something old and familiar slid across his features easy as a paper screen, hiding any sign of the unpolished, unpracticed boy of a moment ago.
“It’s late,” he said, voice fraying at the very edges. “You should rest. I’ll take watch.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
WOLF COUNTRY
The humming woke Fie, as it had near every morning since Cheparok.
Tavin sat with his back to her, humming quiet into the dark. She couldn’t tell if he meant to rouse her by it, or if he’d been at the song awhile. He never seemed to be at the same place when her eyes opened.
Gray-blue gnawed at the eastern horizon. Her watch had come.
Fie rolled up onto her knees, yawning. Tavin glanced back at her, nodded, and folded himself to the ground near the prince.