cobbled street, Lydia’s knife flying from her hand.
Elbowing Gwen in the face, Lydia rolled the other girl off and scrambled up. But before she could regain her feet, someone else hit her in the back, sending her sprawling.
The other girls dog-piled onto her, pinning her legs and arms.
“Don’t hurt her!” Lena shouted. “Malahi said she wasn’t to be harmed.”
Probably so that she can do it herself, Lydia thought bitterly. It was the last thought she had before Gwen clamped a foul-smelling rag over her mouth and everything went dark.
* * *
Lydia blinked, the world blurry and unfocused, but not, for once, because of her missing spectacles.
The room was well-appointed with heavy crimson curtains, furniture of polished wood, and several paintings hanging on the walls, though she couldn’t tell what they were of. The window was cracked open, and from it came a breeze carrying the salty tang of the sea.
She was in the palace.
Lydia’s head ached abominably, but as she tried to lift a hand to rub her temple, rope dug into her wrist. Both her arms were bound to the chair she was sitting on. Legs too.
Biting her teeth against the pain, she pulled against the ropes, but they were too strong. Too tight for her to do more than abrade her flesh. Her wrists grew slick with blood, and with a muttered curse she gave up.
The door to the room opened, and Malahi walked in, pulling it shut behind her before turning the bolt. “I told them that if they followed Killian they’d find you. Turns out I was right.”
Anger chased away Lydia’s fear. “Your kingdom is crumbling and your people are dying. But instead of focusing on that, you used your resources to have me dragged here. And for what? To have a jealous spat over a boy?” For the first time in her life, Lydia spit on the floor, immediately understanding why Teriana found it so satisfying. “You’re pathetic.”
Other than raising one eyebrow as she circled Lydia’s glob of spit, Malahi showed no reaction as she approached, pulling a chair opposite Lydia and taking a seat. “We are here because of your relationship with Killian, Lydia. But let me assure you, jealousy has naught to do with it.”
“I find that hard to believe given the way Hacken Calorian played you like a love-sick girl.”
Malahi cast her eyes skyward. “Please. Sometimes it’s best to allow the player to believe you’re being played, because then they won’t expect your attack from the rear.”
Perhaps some of that was the truth, but Lydia had seen Malahi’s reaction. Even if the Queen knew that there was nothing between Lydia and Killian, having his lack of sentiment for her shoved in her face had hurt. Badly.
“Hacken’s soldiers guarding the palace ensure I can’t sneak much past him,” Malahi continued. “He believes I’m in here having my revenge on you, but the truth is a much different beast. You’re going to do something for me.”
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t just start screaming.”
“No one will come.”
“Bercola—”
“Is still in the infirmary waiting for a healer to tend to her injuries.” Rising from her chair, Malahi went to the sideboard and poured herself a glass of precious water, drinking deeply before she added, “You only healed her enough to keep her from dying, didn’t you?”
The blood fled from Lydia’s skin, leaving ice in its wake. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Malahi sighed, then came back across the room. “Don’t bother denying it, Lydia. It’s easy enough for me to prove.” Reaching down, she took hold of Lydia’s wrists, her fingers uncharacteristically stained with ink. Then she pulled back the rope, revealing the healing abrasions. Moments passed, red fading to pink and then to white before disappearing.
Undeniable proof of her mark.
“You’re the healer who saved Killian’s life from the deimos. The healer no one has been able to track down in the month since. The healer he’s doggedly refused to describe, despite the danger aiding you puts him in.” Malahi removed her fingers from the rope. “The healer he hid in plain sight as one of my bodyguards, knowing it was the one sure way to get you past Quindor’s testers when I sailed south for Serlania.”
And to help keep you alive until you were safely there, Lydia wanted to add, but did not.
“I suspected some time ago who you really were.” Malahi pulled on the bit of string looped around Lydia’s neck, extracting the ring. “When he didn’t give—” She broke off, giving