gift to serve. To do otherwise would be courting the Seventh.”
Killian met his gaze, horrified and fascinated by the fanaticism within them. The King believed that it was Mudamora’s lack of faith that had brought this war upon them. And maybe he was right. But Killian couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t Quindor’s sort of faith that would allow the Corrupter to win.
30
LYDIA
It was an evening unlike any Lydia had ever had.
The group of girls responsible for protecting Malahi during the daylight hours had returned just before dusk, all of them chattering about Killian sneaking the Princess out wearing a guard’s uniform as disguise.
“They both came back as foul as thunderclouds on a sunny day,” the girl whose uniform it had been, said. “So I expect things didn’t go quite as intended. Also, they were both filthy and soaking wet. Hence my attire.” She gestured at the servant’s livery she wore in lieu of a uniform.
“Probably because he didn’t give her that ring,” one of the other girls said. “My gods. Two thousand gold coins for a trinket…”
Shrugging, the girl approached Lydia and Gwen. Lydia recognized her from the night of the deimos attack, although she hadn’t appreciated then how pretty the other girl was with her copper-colored hair and rosy cheeks.
Rising on her toes, she kissed Gwen on the lips, long and deep enough that Lydia felt her face warm. “How are you feeling, my love?”
“As well as if Grand Master Quindor himself had made a house call.”
It was a struggle for Lydia to keep from wincing. The first thing she needed to purchase with her wages was a good pair of gloves, or she’d be healing people inadvertently every which way she went.
“Good.” Rocking back on her heels, the copper-haired girl smirked. “You would not believe the day I’ve had. I’m so stuffed full of fresh fruit, I’m not even going to eat dinner.”
“Is that why you smell like you rolled out of the door of a cathouse?”
“It is.” The girl linked arms with Gwen and then, to Lydia’s surprise, with her, leading them both toward the dining room. “I understand you’re our new recruit, Lydia. My name’s Lena.”
“As of this morning.” Lydia bit the insides of her cheeks, waiting for the inevitable questions. “Finn—”
“—delivers the best girls,” Lena finished for her. “Would you like to hear a story?”
She regaled the dozen girls with the tale of her four hours of pretending to be a princess, the whole group howling with laughter as she described trying on gowns and jewelry and perfume, all while eating every last thing there was to be found.
“She’s going to notice you were digging about in her things,” one of the other girls said. “You’re going to be lucky if you aren’t sacked.”
Lena made a rude noise. “I was careful to put everything back as it was, and she’s used to servants moving things about. Besides, I’m her favorite.”
“Sonia’s her favorite,” Gwen said. “Everyone knows that.”
Lena rolled her eyes. “Sonia’s not nearly as fun as I am.”
The loud shriek of a deimos shattered the conversation, and everyone went still, listening to the steady drum of wings as the creature circled overhead. A chill ran through Lydia, and she shivered.
“Sad as it is to say, there are easier pickings than us,” Gwen murmured, patting her arm. “There’s the dead littering the street, plus the sad souls who couldn’t find shelter for the night.”
“The nights are getting longer,” one of the other girls said, jerking her chin toward the clock sitting on the sideboard. “Winter will be a fell thing.”
The dining room filled with uneasy murmurs, and Lydia didn’t blame them. She recalled the map of the West that Killian had shown her. Mudaire was far enough north that the winter nights would be long indeed.
“How fortunate that we shall all be in the lands of endless summer soon enough,” Gwen said, silencing the chatter. “No cold. No deimos. And all the food you can eat.”
“And southern boys!” shouted several of the girls.
“You lot are either gods-damned idiots or hard of hearing,” Gwen replied, casting her eyes skyward with exaggerated annoyance. “We were talking about the positive aspects of our impending departure, not the burdens.”
Everyone laughed, but Lydia leaned closer to Lena and asked, “What’s the Princess like?”
“Better than most of her ilk,” Lena replied. “She’s fair and not prone to losing her head. But…”
“But…,” Lydia pressed, curious to know more about the girl she’d be watching over for the coming weeks.
“Have you ever