Followed by Fros(69)

I cleared my throat, and both men turned.

“I heard you were back, Lo,” I said, so nervous my voice trembled.

He stared at me as though looking at a stranger before his eyes went wide, but he maintained the rest of his composure.

Imad laughed. “I haven’t seen a face like that for weeks.” Clapping me on the shoulder, he said, “You’ve missed a lot, Lo. Seems as soon as you leave, the excitement arrives.”

I offered him a faint smile, but he only stared at me. I noticed a gold bracelet around his left wrist. One of Dideh Bab’s plays talked about a man who gave a woman a bracelet during a marriage ceremony. Was this the same?

The despair resurfaced in my chest, as fresh as it had been the day I met Faida. I swallowed hard as a lump formed in my throat. If only those three weeks of sleep had counted as time to heal this! His eyes on me . . . I felt like a frostbitten dagger was being plunged into my heart, twisting with my every breath. I thought I would be able to see him again, without it hurting . . .

How wrong I had been.

I cleared my throat again. “You look well. I hope you met no troubles on your trip.”

Perhaps noticing the discomfort that hung thick as a storm cloud, Imad began discussing the guard with Lo—something about their rounds and the newly hired men in training. Taking advantage of the opening, I excused myself and escaped into the hallway, brushing past a servant carrying an empty tray. I made it around the corner before a tear escaped me, but I brushed it away before it could so much as graze my nose. Taking a deep breath and clenching my jaw, I straightened my back and walked tall, blinking rapidly to dry my eyes.

Lo was happy. He had no bags under his eyes, no scruff, no stains on his clothes. Nothing to indicate stress. And despite my tears, I was relieved to see him looking so well and healthy. I wondered if Faida had come to the palace with him, and if she would move here for the sake of Lo’s work, or if they would find a house within the city.

I paused outside my bedroom door and glanced over my shoulder. No one had followed me. I took a moment to master myself—taking deep breaths, smiling, rolling my shoulders—before stepping inside.

“You’re late,” Kitora said, snipping a thread from the hem of my dress. It was another with a high waist, and was pale blue, with sleeves that cuffed with pearl buttons at the wrists. Lace adorned the high collar and the hem, which fell midcalf. It looked like something my mother would have made.

“Oh, Kitora,” I said, touching the finespun wool. “It’s wonderful.”



That night I treated myself to another bath to relax and prepare myself for the next day’s journey. Come morning, I would be leaving for the Unclaimed Lands with three soldiers, including Eyan. My things were already packed in saddlebags arranged at the foot of my bed. After drying my short hair on a towel, I slipped into the simple nightdress Aamina had given me: plain off-white cotton with loose sleeves meant to keep off the heat, for I could finally feel the hot, dry climate of Zareed. Outside, in the afternoon, it was almost blistering. Despite that, I loved the heat. I even loved sweating, for I had not been able to sweat for so long.

I ran a comb through my hair and pulled aside the curtain over my window, revealing a city half-asleep, with a few sparkling lights from houses brightening the mountains. My last night in Mac’Hliah. But I planned to return. Aamina had offered me a room in her home, and perhaps I could bring my family along, show them where I had been for the past year. I think Marrine would like it once she adjusted to the culture. And Ashlen, if she were not married and tending to children of her own. Ashlen with children . . . How strange that would be. Then again, Marrine could very well be married, too. A lot could happen in four years.

I knit my fingers together and pressed them to my mouth. In a matter of weeks I would see them all again. See Euwan again. See the Hutcheses . . . Such a debt I owed them. I would understand if my presence pained them, and I would not stay in Euwan long if I caused any grief. I did have a home and many new opportunities in Zareed. What would it be like to live in this city?

These thoughts had wound their way around my consciousness, capturing all my attention, so when a knock sounded on my door, I jumped.

“Come—” I began, then stopped. I knew that knock.

The door opened and Lo appeared in the doorway, still wearing his commoner’s clothes.

“—in,” I whispered.

He smiled at me and shut the door behind him. “I did not recognize you earlier. I did not think . . . such a thing was possible.”

I softened and returned his smile. “Neither did I. Had I known, I would have shot myself a long time ago.”

He chuckled. “I heard about that. I’m glad you are all right.”

“I was unconscious for most of it,” I admitted, though the moment the arrow pierced my skin lived fresh in my memory. A red-hot pain like that was hard to forget. “They drugged me with Oki-leaf.”

His lips twisted. “I cannot think of a worse thing to put into a person’s mouth.”

I laughed. “So you’ve tried it?”

“Once, when I was in the militia,” he said, lingering by the door. “I don’t know if it was the taste or an allergy, but . . . I did not react well to it.”

“Were you hurt?”

“Not badly.” He touched his side. “Knife wound, but not deep.”