Master of Iron (Bladesmith #2)(83)

He swallows. “I understand, and I will never hurt her again. She’s more precious to me than anything.”

“Good. Now leave. I need to talk with her.”

He purses his lips. Thinks a moment.

“I will tell her you stopped by.”

“Okay,” he says finally.

He looks back over his shoulder when he leaves, as though maybe he can see my sister through the door.

“It’s only a few hours, stupid man,” I say under my breath.

Then I let myself into her room.

Temra stands as though she’d been expecting me, her arms crossed, her face defiant.

“Ziva, I’m a grown woman. And if I’m old enough to be fighting in battles, then I’m old enough to—”

“Are you being safe?” I ask, interrupting her.

“Of course.”

“Is it what you want? You don’t feel pressured or anything?”

“It’s what I want more than anything. I love him.”

“You hated him just the other day,” I point out.

She quirks a smile. “I loved him then, too. That’s why I was so mad. But we had a talk last night, and we have an understanding.”

“Which is?”

“If he lies or hides anything from me again, we’re done. He needs to trust me to be smart and make good choices when I have all the information.”

“That’s good. You do deserve someone who trusts you to be smart.” I know that, even if I want to control her choices sometimes. I brace myself for the next question I should ask her. “Was it—was it your first time?”

She catches my eyes, quirks her head. “Yes. Would it have mattered if it wasn’t?”

“I would have been disappointed that you didn’t tell me if it wasn’t. Do you want to talk about it?”

She smiles. “Maybe later, once it’s not so new.”

“But you’re okay? No regrets?”

“None.”

My heart hurts because for some reason I’m thinking about my mother. I wonder what she would say to her, what she would do. I can’t do anything at all to help her, and I have no advice to give, because I haven’t had that first.

Yet.

Damn that word.

“What did you think of Marossa and Skiro’s decision?” Temra asks in a poor attempt to change the subject.

I let it slide this time. “Which one?”

“Using Ashper to send someone to each of the territories to rally the other royals for support.”

“Who’s Ashper?”

She narrows her eyes at me. “Were you not listening?”

“I was distracted.”

“Of course, by all the people,” she says. I don’t correct her. “Ashper is the magical painter. He’s going to paint new portals here, and then we can travel to the other territories to talk in person with the other royals.”

“Oh, that’s smart.”

Temra crosses her arms. “Petrik said he found you in Kellyn’s bed this morning.”

She’s hardly in a place to judge. “I was overcome with thoughts of the battle. I needed someone to talk to. I went to your room first. You weren’t there.”

A look of guilt crosses her face. “You only talked?”

“Yes.”

“All right.” She fiddles for something under her mattress, then hoists it up. “Does that mean you don’t want any of this?”

From a leather pouch, Temra produces herbs, brandishing them with a wicked smile.

My mouth drops open. “How did you even—”

“I bought them while we were in Skiro’s Territory. And I had them on me when we went through the portal.”

“You had them on you?”

“Of course. I knew it would happen once I decided I wanted it. I wanted to be prepared. In case it was a spontaneous thing. And I knew we were likely to leave at some point. Better safe than sorry.”

I narrow my eyes. “You and I have very different priorities.”

She offers me half of the bundle. “That will change once you’ve had that handsome mercenary of yours.”

I stare at it, thinking to refuse.

Because I should set an example. Because we’re busy preparing for war and I really shouldn’t be thinking about this at all. Because … surely there are other reasons?

I snatch up what she offers.

Temra looks more surprised than I am. “I didn’t actually think you would take me up on it.”

“Kellyn and I are getting closer,” I say sheepishly, “and I’m getting braver.”

“I’m glad for you. But if he even suggests something you don’t like, you let me know.”

I laugh, because again, I am the older sister.

“I mean it,” she says. “Just because you say yes to it, it doesn’t mean you can’t change your mind or say no to certain things happening in the moment. You always have a voice, and you should always let it be heard. Especially if you’re nervous. If he loves you, he will always listen to your needs.”

“He says he loves me.”

“But you don’t believe him?”

“Part of me does. But the irrational part wants to think otherwise.”