paused.
She pressed her hands against the earth, and Killian watched her eyes grow distant, the grass around her hands turning green and lush, growing taller and taller. But the blight did not recede.
“There’s no life in it,” she whispered. “There’s nothing in it to grow.”
Pulling her hands back, Malahi rose, and Killian’s heart skipped at the first doubt he’d seen since she’d brought him into the fold of her plans. “Killian,” she said. “I can’t fix this.”
28
LYDIA
Finn brought Lydia back to the same house where she and Killian had sought refuge the night of the deimos attack. They stopped up the street from it, and Lydia eyed the blue door apprehensively. “Does Killian own this property?”
Finn frowned at her. “Of course not. Don’t you know the Marked can’t own property? His brother owns it. Though you won’t be finding Lord Calorian”—he put heavy emphasis on the title she’d failed to use—“here often. He stays with Her Highness. But this is where her bodyguard lives when they aren’t on duty.”
Lydia flushed at her social misstep, wondering if Killian had noticed. If he’d cared.
“Your story is this,” Finn said. “You were the lover of a—”
“No,” Lydia interrupted. “Pick something else.”
“Fine. You are the niece of a ship captain who was supposed to be delivering you to family members in Serlania. You were on your way south from Axbridge when your uncle decided to make port in Mudaire. He gave away your place on the ship to a paying passenger, leaving you here with nothing but the clothes on your back.”
Lydia started to argue that the story seemed improbable; then she thought of Vibius and said instead, “I’ve never been to … Axbridge. What if they ask questions I can’t answer?”
“No northern girls in the guard, so it’s not likely. And besides, none of them will pry.” Giving her a sideways glance, Finn said, “The girls in the guard … They aren’t High Lords’ daughters, if you get my meaning. They understand not wanting to talk about your past. Besides, your story is the same as everyone else’s. You’re just trying to survive.”
Finn opened the unlocked door without knocking, and Lydia followed him inside, an eerie sense of déjà vu coming over her. It was brighter now, the sun filtering through the panes of glass over the door. The wooden floor gleamed with polish, the drops of blood long since washed away.
Finn took a sharp left, leading her down a narrow hallway toward the sound of female voices.
“Good morning, ladies,” he said to a trio sitting around a large dining table. “I’m delivering your newest recruit. This is Lydia.”
The girls all lifted a hand in greeting, introducing themselves. One, a sturdy girl with pale freckled skin and sandy blond hair, stuck out her hand, which Lydia awkwardly shook, clenching her teeth as she felt a slight pull on her insides, her mark taking over.
But the other girl didn’t seem to notice. “Gwendolyn. Gwen, to those who know me. I’m the day lieutenant for the guard, but I’m home today because something I ate played foul with my innards. Not much good to Her Highness if I’m constantly bolting off to the privy, right?”
I think I solved that problem for you, Lydia thought to herself, giving Gwen an amused smile as the other girls laughed.
Gesturing for Lydia to take a seat, the girl waved a hand at Finn. “Go flirt with the cook and get yourself fed.”
Finn scampered off, leaving Lydia alone with the girls.
“Eat!” Gwen said. “It’s a bit picked over, but you’ll get your fill at dinner.”
Perching on one of the benches, Lydia scraped what remained on the serving platters onto a clean plate. The meat was dry and salty, the unfamiliar vegetables bland, and the bread dotted with what she sadly expected were weevils, but the food tasted like the finest meal she’d ever had in her life. A young woman with russet skin, short brown hair, and large hazel eyes poured her a glass of water, which Lydia guzzled down.
“I’m Sonia,” she said, her voice holding the same accent as the Gamdeshian sailor Lydia had spoken to in the harbor. “You’re from the North?”
Lydia’s palms prickled with sweat. “Axbridge.”
“High Lady Falorn’s stronghold.” Sonia nodded. “Mudaire is the farthest north I’ve ever been, but I should like to visit one day.”
“Too cold for your summer blood, Sonia,” Gwen said. “You’d freeze solid.”
Sonia ignored the comment. “Even in Gamdesh, the High Lady is a legend. Have you met her?”
High Lady Dareena Falorn.