it did was remind me that this tether to Baccha was severed, another, deeper connection—the coalescence—kept our minds enmeshed.
Dinner was the fowl roasted beneath a pile of hot coals and a stew of sweet peppers, onions, and yams.
Anali had chosen fifteen guards when we left Ternain, and I was surprised all remained with us still. I’d been sure we would lose a few to Dahn. What I once offered them—my protection and a steady wage—was long gone. Part of me wanted to ask them to leave, to flee to the Isles until the next Queen was crowned, though I knew they would not take the request as graciously as I meant it.
I left Isadore at her tent, which was always erected beside mine, trussed up with barely enough slack to comfortably eat dinner. After many nights of her staring into a few of the soldiers’ eyes until they were blushing and stammering, or worse, terrified, she’d taken her meals there. Not at my request, but because the last time she had done it, Anali had embarrassed her by asking, voice as cool as anything, “Tell me, does the attention you get from bothering my soldiers adequately fill the void left by your inability to command a circus of fools at Court, Princess Isadore?”
Isa had turned such an angry puce, her green eyes full of venom, before she took hold of herself and smiled warmly, falsely at Anali. After that night, though, Isa took her supper alone.
Tonight I sat between Aketo and Kelis. Ten other soldiers sat on battered cushions around us. We were still waiting for Falun. After our talk, he’d gone to call back the scouts. A skilled tracker, Falun directly commanded them and set out to go scouting hours before dawn each day. It was Falun who’d found the rise of stone outcrops that hid Orai.
Kelis recounted a tale of how she’d become betrothed to a fey noblewoman and two weeks later fled her home under . . . dubious circumstances. Kelis, bloodkin and five years my senior, was rangy and coltish with dark eyes and copper waves hanging loose that reflected light like actual metal, and her stories were always engrossing, if a bit unlikely.
Aketo’s knee pressed against mine and that single point of contact made my whole body flush. Perhaps it was that I knew what his skin felt like without layers of clothing between us—smooth, warm, and full of perfect angles well worth exploring. Or maybe because that knowledge was not enough.
Though Aketo slept often in my tent, the physical intimacy between us had stalled. And it was driving me mad.
After the great embarrassment on my nameday, when Aketo had rebuffed my request to sneak up to my rooms and sleep together, I resolved to let him set the pace.
And yet little touches like this threatened to upend my self-control.
Across the fire, Anali inclined her head, her gaze focused beyond me. I glanced back to see Falun making his way through the tents.
I stood, thankful for the reprieve. Watched to see if he held any grudge from our earlier argument.
Once again, I was struck by the changes in him. In a mere six weeks, the youthful softness of his face had been shorn away, leaving him lean and sharp. A deep tan complemented his hair, which was more gold than crimson today. With his hair unbound, Falun might have looked radiant, if not for the bruised circles beneath his eyes and the wan, humorless smile he gave me.
With a bow slung over his shoulder and two more guinea fowl held in one hand, he bore little resemblance to the courtly soldier he’d been in Ternain. He reminded me of Baccha, I realized with a sharp pang of longing I immediately smothered.
I returned his smile hesitantly and he nodded, eyes unfocused. I felt a stab of guilt at the way that our early conversation ended, but I was right. Baccha was an immortal being. I wasn’t going to waste time worrying about him when he was probably on his way to betray me. The Tribe held Baccha’s leash and his loyalty, and if they decided I was their enemy, even with my khimaer blood, there was nothing I could do about it now.
Once greetings were exchanged, and Falun settled in, Anali cleared her throat and gave me a pointed look.
Just as you practiced, I reminded myself, trying to work moisture into my suddenly dry mouth. “It’s been two days since we arrived in Orai. And in