Lady Smoke (Ash Princess Trilogy #2)(107)

When we finally emerge from the palace, I laugh for real. S?ren laughs, too, and even though we don’t have to pretend anymore, we both still lean on each other.

“He asked why I was still here when the Etralians left yesterday, so I told him that I’d decided to stay and marry you,” he explains through laughter. “And he got mad and said foreigners were stealing Sta’Criveran women. I told him he was welcome to go to Etralia and I would introduce him to my cousins. I think he might actually try to find me again and take me up on it.”

Despite everything, I let out a snort of laughter. “Come on,” I tell him. Without thinking about it, I take his hand and pull him down the empty street.

“You enjoy this, don’t you?” he asks, following me.

“Running for our lives?” I ask him over my shoulder. “Of course not.”

“The danger,” he clarifies. “The wolf at your heels. The purpose.”

I consider it for a moment before shrugging. “I think I enjoy acting and not waiting for something to happen,” I say. “I enjoy having a plan and I enjoy following it through instead of being at the mercy of someone else’s decisions.”

“This was not the original plan, though, was it?” he asks, a question I’ve been dreading since I handed him that sword in the dungeon.

“No,” I admit. As we weave through the streets, I tell him about the plan I hatched with Erik, then about Hoa’s death, about Coltania and the poison and her body left in the garden.

“I’m sorry,” he says when I finish.

I glance back at him over my shoulder. “For what?” I ask.

“I was wrong—you aren’t enjoying this,” he tells me. “You’re in shock. I’ve seen it on the battlefield—soldiers who’ve watched their friends die next to them or who made their first kill and watched the life leave another man’s eyes. They continue to fight anyway, because they have to. The blood pumps hotter in their veins. They’re always fiercer and stronger and sharper than they were before. Their minds seem to focus in on just surviving the battle…but the battle always ends and the shock ends with it. That’s what I’m sorry for.”

I swallow and tear my gaze away from him. “We should hurry up,” I say softly. “Let’s put some distance between us and the city before King Etristo sends his guards after us.”





S?REN USES THE MONEY ARTEMISIA gave me to lease a horse from the stable, and while the stablehand is saddling it up, S?ren takes the opportunity to clean up a bit with a wet rag. It can only remove so much of the dungeon grime from his skin, but it does help measurably. He changes into a fresh set of clothes he bought off the stablehand, which are too big but at least more comfortable than Tizoli’s.

We have a long ride ahead of us and I’m honestly not sure which I’d prefer—him smelling like the dungeon or him smelling like his usual self. Like sea salt and driftwood in a way that brings me back to times it’s better not to think about.

When the stablehand brings the horse around, S?ren helps me up onto its back before swinging on in front of me. He takes the reins from the man and with a lurch we are off. I wrap my arms tightly around S?ren’s waist as the wind whips against my skin. Once we are outside the city, I finally push my hood off my face.

We did it, I realize with a thrill. We made it out of the city before Coltania’s body was found and before the riser attendant could wake up and tell anyone what happened. Even if either of them is discovered now, the guards will never be able to come after us in time to catch up. When they do put the pieces together, they’ll assume we’ve left the same way we came, through ships in the harbor. They won’t think to look at the refugee camp.

I tighten my grip on S?ren’s waist.

“All right?” he asks me, his voice all but lost in the wind.

I nod against his shoulder. “I wouldn’t have left you, you know,” I tell him.

He doesn’t say anything and for a moment I think he didn’t hear me at all—understandable since the wind is so loud I can barely hear my own thoughts. Just when I’ve given up on getting a response, he gives one.

“You never have. Even when it would have made things much easier for you.”

I think about the decision to save him from the dungeon and how much easier it truly would have been to leave him. I would be with my Shadows on a ship now, and we would have been spared an awful lot of trouble and eliminated plenty of risk as well. I remember my deal with Dragonsbane on the Smoke and the sacrifice I made to get S?ren out of the brig. I remember when I myself was in a dungeon, telling Blaise not to save me because I knew S?ren would and I knew we could use that to our advantage.

Having S?ren in my life has complicated things—but I realize now that I wouldn’t wish it to be any other way.

In the garden, I told him that he couldn’t love me because he didn’t really know me, and I still believe that. But it doesn’t change the fact that I know him. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m in love with him.



* * *



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By the time the walled camp appears on the horizon, the sun is rising, hanging low in the east with the bottom of it still grazing the sand dunes. It’s bright enough to see that we aren’t the first to arrive—there is a group already approaching the entrance with weapons drawn. From this distance, the only detail I can make out is the shock of Artemisia’s blue hair.