The Tiger at Midnight (The Tiger at Midnight Trilogy #1)(52)

“But I’m not so naive now. I know you could take out half a regiment with that whip of yours. I will admit, I respect that. You fight hard.” He pointed his knife at her. “But it doesn’t change anything.”

The words were spoken with force, but his eyes flickered to her own unsteadily.

He was wrong.

Everything had already changed.

She stared at Kunal, trying to determine when her feelings toward him had shifted. He was attractive, that was undeniable, but there was more to it. There was something small and hopeful and wondering in her chest now.

Esha wanted to know him, understand him—but she didn’t see how that was possible in the lives the gods had given them.

She was silent long enough that he turned back to the knots. His brow was knitted as he concentrated on untying the knots, his lip tugged between his teeth in concentration.

“Would you ever leave?”

He looked up at her in question.

“Leave where?” he asked.

“The Fort,” she said in a whisper.

He looked thoughtful for a moment, as if he had decided candor was the best way to go when stuck, literally, in a trapper’s pit with one’s enemy.

“I never wanted to spend my life there. I told you I hadn’t wanted to be a soldier. A year ago, I thought at best, I would become a Senap guard. Worst, I’d stay until I was released out of active duty in five or ten years.” He looked at her now, straight in the eyes. “Eventually start a family. Go back to where I grew up and teach combat.”

“And now?” she probed.

Kunal turned toward her sharply, searching for something in her face.

He seemed to find it.

“And now? I can’t say. I wouldn’t have foreseen anything that’s happened to me recently or expected the opportunity to become commander. But now that it’s here, I want the chance to leave my mark. Change things.”

“Like what?”

He dropped his hand to his side, the knife loose in his fingers. “Real justice. A jury of peers like before. Punishment for soldiers if they engage in thievery. Discourse without fear of retribution.”

She stayed quiet, letting his words sink in. Painting an image of a future she’d probably never get to see. But sitting near him and hearing his soft voice, Esha let herself imagine it.

Of course, the impossible attracted her. Harun always said she had something self-destructive in her. Maybe this was it. This longing in her to know a boy whose history she should be able to read with two words—Jansan soldier.

She hadn’t felt this alive, this curious in a while. All she had felt in the years following the murder of her parents had been anger and unending grief.

Hatred. A thirst for revenge.

They still were there, nestled in her breast. But she also heard her father’s words in the back of her mind.

The goal of an ambassador is to bridge the gap, find the similarities between people and cultivate it like a precious bloom in the summer heat.

Esha felt that old grief creep up. He had been a great ambassador for Dharka.

She had taken their life for granted—their ease between cultures and their lifestyle—and it wasn’t until they were gone that she understood all that she had. It was why she wouldn’t stop until the man responsible for upending their lives was dead.

How many other families had been torn apart? How many other girls had seen their parents cut down, their unborn sibling dead in an instant?

The pain had faded over the years, but it never left, a dull ache she could never cast off. She glanced at Kunal, who had been watching her the whole time. The look on his face was inscrutable.

If he knew the depths of darkness in her soul, he would turn away in horror.

He had never seen her with whips in her hands and fresh blood on her knife. And she wouldn’t give up that part of her for anyone. Especially not a soldier of the Pretender King.

He continued to saw away at the knot but locked eyes with her.

Esha felt a spark between them. She took a deep breath, steadying the thrum of her heart.





Chapter 34


Esha seemed to look past him, her thoughts far away.

Kunal watched her as he continued his ministrations on the thick, sticky ropes. He would need to give his knives a good cleaning after this. The stickiness made his stomach queasy.

She was biting the corner of her lip, staring a little past his head. Until she caught his gaze in hers. That jolted him. Her eyes were something he would never forget. Not tomorrow and not for years. He yearned to paint them, the bloom of dark chestnut and honey around her irises and the deep arch of her brow.

If only they had met in another world, another life.

Instead she had found him in this one. Bound by duty and honor, sworn to protect and serve.

The old tales always said the gods never gave anything without taking. It would’ve been easier if she had never crossed his path.

“And you?” he asked. “Would you stop being the Viper? Would you leave the Blades?”

“The fact that you even know that about me, about the Viper—”

“Who am I going to tell?” Kunal scoffed. “Who would even believe me without you there as proof? Claiming the Viper is a woman would be enough to get laughed out of the mess hall. My knowledge is meaningless.”

“Your comrades can try me on, I’d—”