Reign of Darkness (The Prince's Assassin #2) - Ariana Nash Page 0,15

had no idea all Vasili’s allure held a rotten core. Niko would make sure to tell him later.

Yasir had a loud mouth, a velveteen accent, and a quick tongue that had probably gotten him in trouble time and time again. Even Niko caught himself chuckling at some new scandalous tale Yasir filled the quiet with. He was an easy man to like.

Julian had been an easy man to like too. And that hadn’t turned out so well.

They made camp under a broad yew tree, ate roasted rabbit and dried rice cakes, and Yasir was out like a lamp the second he laid his head on his bedroll. Vasili lay on his side by the fire, propped on an elbow, one leg stretched out, the other bent. He stared into the flames as though their little campfire held all the answers.

Niko watched the road from the edge of their camp. The fire would keep wild animals and the chill at bay, but it would draw any nearby thieves and elves toward them.

Vasili moved from the fire after nightfall and approached Niko. “What are you thinking?” he whispered, leaning against a tree.

The fire crackled and hissed behind them, throwing its light over Yasir’s sleeping figure.

“If he’s a spy, you’re making his job a whole lot easier.”

Vasili gazed into the darkness beyond the firelight, where moonlight painted the snaking roadway white. “He’s not my brother’s spy.”

An owl hooted far away, then its partner answered somewhere overhead.

Niko huffed, folded his arms, and glared at the road, keeping Vasili in his peripheral vision. The prince couldn’t know Yasir was harmless for certain, but he had spoken as though he’d been absolutely sure. And Niko believed him. Even knowing he shouldn’t. Vasili had known Julian was a liar. He used everyone by understanding what motivated them. If Yasir was a spy, Vasili would know it, and he’d probably use it.

So, if he wasn’t a spy, what was he to Vasili?

“You did not ask me what I’m thinking,” Vasili said softly, his face tipped gently toward the stars.

Niko arched a brow. “Because your head is a dangerous place. What are you thinking, Varian?” He didn’t believe for a single moment that he’d get a straight answer.

“How I might enjoy the south.” He returned to the fireside to settle on his bedroll, leaving Niko frowning after him. What did he mean by that? Niko rolled his eyes and faced the road again. If only it were as easy to turn his thoughts from the prince too. He had no hope of understanding Vasili. The best hope he had was to survive him. Considering how everything the prince had touched of late had been reduced to ash, even that hope was a dying one.

If only Niko hadn’t seen the dark flame with his own eyes, he could walk away right now. Though, even that thought felt like a lie, like Vasili was in his head somehow, turning his own thoughts against him. Because for all his dreaming of leaving the prince, he couldn’t bring himself to abandon him.

Chapter 7

The ragged old carthorse had thrown a shoe. The creature had probably walked the roads its entire life and looked as enthused about their journey as Niko was. Yasir suggested Adamo would make a fine trap animal and received a look from Vasili that was the closest the prince had come to revealing his Caville bloodline during the three days they’d been on the road, making Niko snort a laugh.

“Only if you want to lose your wagon and your life.” Niko patted Yasir on the shoulder and unhitched the horse. Walking the animal to a flat verge, he spotted a brook through the trees. “A good place to make camp for the night?”

Yasir agreed, and when Vasili had no objections, Yasir built a fire while Niko saw to the horse’s cracked hooves. Black clouds rolled in at dusk, followed by a persistent rain that drove Yasir and Niko inside the wagon. At least the silks were soft.

Vasili volunteered to take the first watch. Draped in his cloak, he swung into the driver’s seat. Yasir, predictably, fell asleep in minutes. The man clearly had no nightmares haunting him.

Sleep proved elusive for Niko. After hours of listening to the rain tap on the wagon, he threw on Yasir’s riding cloak and left the dry comfort of the wagon. Vasili gave him a small nod, and he climbed onto the bench beside him. The prince had been alone in the rain and the dark