The Tiger at Midnight (The Tiger at Midnight Trilogy #1)(44)

With just a few words, the rising fire in her belly flickered out and anger replaced it, warming her limbs with a different kind of heat.

“Must I? For killing one person when he’s slaughtered thousands?” Her face was stony.

This was the behavior Harun always said would get her killed. She was challenging a soldier who had the advantage on her. The last thing she should be doing was provoking him, but she couldn’t help it.

“You’ve probably killed more people in one fortnight than I have my entire life. Where’s the justice in that?”

“Whoever I killed was on a battlefield.” Irritation bloomed on his face, darkening his brow. “It was by the rules. You slaughtered him in his bed.”

“Well, these are my rules. I’m not a soldier. I’m the Viper.”

Kunal’s face remained impassive but his fingers began tapping.

“Even rebels have rules they must follow.”

“I’m not associated with those reb—”

Kunal flashed the Crescent Blades pin in front of her. She tried to snatch it, but he caught her wrist, tucking the pin away.

“We’ve always suspected that there was a connection between the Viper and a rebel group. I always thought the stories couldn’t possibly have come from one person. But now having met you—”

“Don’t pretend to know me, soldier.”

“If you were told to become the Viper . . . ,” he said, looking thoughtful. “That would be different. You wouldn’t be at fault then.”

The vicious part of her wanted to squash that thought.

“Have you considered that I may have chosen to become the Viper? Took it on out of my own sense of duty to my people? You of all people should understand that, soldier.”

Esha fell back into her hatred and it settled around her like an old blanket. It was a relief to feel it, instead of whatever he had been making her feel minutes ago.

“No? Because I have this face I can’t possibly be in control of my own destiny? I used to think so too. Your king”—she spat the word—“seems to think so too, removing all women from military service.” She stepped back, only to find herself even closer to the corner of the room. The thick brocade of a tapestry brushed her arm. “I’ll not feel a shred of remorse for sending that general to the pyre. He has sent hundreds, thousands, of families to weep at the pyres of their loved ones. He’s one less monster roaming the streets.”

One less soldier with the power to destroy families like her own.

“And you don’t owe me any debt. I would rather be sacrificed to that tiger in Tej than be helped by a bronze-armored, yellow-bellied Fort soldier,” Esha finished.

Something warred on Kunal’s face, as if two halves of him were struggling to make a whole, fighting for dominance. She eyed him warily as he moved toward the door. In seconds, he had broken the latch to the window, so that it was stuck in place.

They were now on different ends of the room, Kunal moving to stand in front of the door and Esha in the corner opposite.

“You’re right,” Kunal said. She stared at him, shocked. “No matter how much I hate to admit it, he was a harsh man. Cruel when he could have been merciful, tough when kindness would have worked just as well. He may have been my—my mentor, but even I knew he wasn’t always a good man.”

He agreed? What was she supposed to say to that?

She had an outline of him in her mind, bronze and blood. But now the gaps were filled in with gray—an unknown. And she hated it.

He shook his head. “But it still doesn’t matter. My orders are to take you back. You’ll face a trial and justice will be meted out. That’s how I will repay my debt. You’ll not be killed under my watch.”

Esha burst into laughter and he looked up, startled.

“‘A fair trial’? Ignorance truly is bliss.” Her tone was biting.

“I will get no trial. You’re full of lies,” she hissed, feeling more like her namesake than ever. “I will be barely tossed a glance before I’m thrown into a cell or left for the buzzards. Gone are the days when Jansans respected women and viewed them as equal under the law. In ten years, centuries of equality were stolen from the women of Jansa because of your king’s greed and fear.”

Kunal looked surprised, as if he hadn’t thought she would be so apprised of Jansa and its politics. She took pleasure in that, in surprising him—she was more than one thing.

“Not only am I a woman, but I’m a murderer. The men who become soldiers are not those who value women—and definitely not a woman who has managed to discard their notions of female fragility with a slice of her knife.”

Once again, his brows rose and she knew she was giving away more than she should. Revealing her cultured and educated upbringing, her passionate interest in what had happened to Jansa.

“You don’t know those men. They’re not all bad.”

“But they’re not all good. All you need is a few bad grapes to ruin the wine.”

Kunal opened his mouth to respond but shut it quickly, as if he realized the truth in her words. He sighed deeply and glanced away before running a hand through his hair, which had grown longer than the traditional short soldier cut. His sharp amber eyes snapped to hers, and Esha thought she could read the emotion in them.