Defend the Dawn (Defy the Night #2)(15)

“What does that mean?”

He gives me a cool up-and-down glance. “Not much outlaw left, is there?” He gives a pointed look at the doorway leading to the street. “Nice carriage. Too good to walk now?”

“I’m not too good to walk. It took some time for the message to reach me. I didn’t want Karri to wait.”

He inhales, his eyes darkening, but Karri gives him a solid shove in the shoulder. “Don’t argue,” she says. “She might not be an outlaw anymore, but Tessa is my friend.”

“So you’ve said.” He rises from the table and offers me a mocking bow. “Do forgive me, Miss Tessa. Allow me to fetch your confections, ladies.”

I open my mouth to protest, but Karri catches my hand. “No,” she says. “Let him do it. Maybe a little sugar will change his mood.”

I sigh, but I sit while Lochlan heads for the counter.

To my surprise, an awkward silence falls between me and Karri. It’s so foreign. We used to sit and chat for hours on end. I still remember the day she realized I was mooning over the outlaw Weston Lark—back before I knew he was Prince Corrick. The memory makes me smile.

Tell me about his hands, she said, and I blushed like a schoolgirl.

“I’m really glad you sent me a note,” I say.

That seems to break the tension, because she smiles, too. “Me too.” She pauses and flicks her eyes at Lochlan, where he stands by the counter. “He doesn’t trust them at all, Tessa. That consul was terrible. It’s obvious he doesn’t care.” She hesitates, and I can hear the fear in her voice. “This morning, Lochlan was worried the meeting was a trap. That you were luring us to the palace. The whole time we were there, he kept waiting for them to drag us to the Hold.”

“It’s not a trap,” I say. “Karri, I would never lure you.”

“I know. But there are still people who believe that ‘Weston Lark’ was only a spy to find more criminals to hang.”

I frown. “No. He cares. We care. The king really does want to figure out a way to make sure there’s enough medicine for all of Kandala. But everyone has to agree. Not just the elites, and not just the people in the Wilds. Everyone. We all have a stake here.”

“I know.” She hesitates. “Lochlan didn’t even think the rumors of the ship from Ostriary were real. He thought it was a ploy to end the meeting until he heard the talk in the streets here.”

“It’s not a ploy either, Karri! Harristan and Corrick wouldn’t do that.”

She stares back at me, and her voice has cooled a bit. “It wasn’t too long ago that you stood with me in front of the sector gates declaring how much you hate them.”

The words hit me like a slap. She’s right. I did. She was the one to chastise me for speaking words of treason.

But that was before I knew who Weston was. That was before I knew everything the king and his brother had at stake.

That was before Corrick and I were captured by the rebels. Before he was tortured by them.

Before the rebels set the whole sector on fire as a means to show Harristan how desperate they were.

And here we are.

“You’re right.” I reach out and put a hand over hers. “This isn’t easy for anyone.”

For a moment, she’s frozen in place, and I worry that we’ve moved too far apart.

But then she turns her hand to clasp mine. “We’ll make it work,” she whispers.

I nod fiercely, pressing my fingers into hers.

Lochlan reappears beside the table. “Your chocolate cream, Miss Karri.” His bellicose eyes flash my way. “And yours, Miss Tessa.”

He’s mocking me, baiting me to snap at him. I don’t play. “Thank you for your kindness, Master Lochlan.”

I could say it primly, but I don’t. I say it honestly. Surprise registers in his expression, and he eases into the seat beside Karri. His jaw is tight, but he doesn’t say anything else.

“You’re suspicious,” I say quietly. “I know. I was, too. They have a lot to make up for.”

He studies me. “You trust them.”

I can’t tell if this is an accusation or a question, but I nod. “I do.”

“Why?” he says. “Why? You know what they’ve done.” He glances at Karri. “You were both in the crowd when he was set to execute the eight of us.”

“You saw Consul Sallister,” I say. “You see how much power he has. He kept threatening to withhold Moonflower if Prince Corrick didn’t do as he said—”

“And that’s supposed to be reassuring?” he says. “That the king doesn’t have control of his consuls? He’s still threatening to withhold it. I heard what he said about supply issues and laborers. The king can make him work the fields, but he’s still one man.”

“You don’t understand. They won’t—it’s not—”

“No.” He half rises from his seat, leaning in against the table. “You don’t understand. This is life or death for us.” His eyes glare down at me. “They act like it’s a game. The elites think they can convince the fools in the Wilds to take even less medicine than they were getting before.”

He’s looming over me, and I swallow. I don’t want to look away from him while he looks so threatening, but we’ve garnered more than a little attention. Whispers have erupted all around us. The pretty young lady in the fine clothing being dressed down by someone who’s probably never had more than a handful of coins in his life.