The Tiger at Midnight (The Tiger at Midnight Trilogy #1)(53)

“Answer the question, Esha. It’s only fair.”

She blinked a few times and looked away.

“No, I wouldn’t leave. Not until I fulfill my goal. Even if I die trying.”

He didn’t hesitate. “What did the king take from you?”

Esha didn’t move a muscle, but her eyes grew stormy. “Who said he took anything from me?” she replied, her voice even.

He shifted back, watching her. Kunal wanted to open up, admit to her that the king had taken from him too, albeit indirectly. That he had lost his mother, his friends, everyone he had known.

But he kept his voice even, swallowing the memories.

“You hate soldiers. Maybe you believe in the tale of the lost princess, but that doesn’t seem like you. You’re someone who walks easily between Jansa and Dharka. I could believe you were a trader or merchant, as you’re clearly educated. Perhaps a rogue unit of soldiers stole your family’s shipment—or worse, destroyed your livelihood. Or maybe it’s more personal.”

Esha looked at him for a moment, as if considering something.

“I’m impressed by your imagination, soldier. And for that, I’ll give you a straight answer. I’m here to fulfill the aim of the Blades—overthrow the Pretender King and restore balance to our lands. How can you not see it? The janma bond is broken because of him. A Samyad was always meant to be on the throne and he threatens both of our worlds by having taken what isn’t his. The gods don’t like thieves. But I don’t plan on stopping there.”

Kunal started. She couldn’t hope to kill the king—there was already a line of men outside the palace who had tried and died. King Vardaan relished such attempts, even laughed and displayed them on the outer moats of the palace.

But he was impressed by the passion and conviction with which she spoke. The willingness with which she challenged and fought. His life had been orders and rules, discipline and unquestioning obedience.

Looking at her, he wondered if he hadn’t done it all wrong.

He sighed. “I’m not surprised.”

Esha looked shocked. “What? No lecture? No admonishments about honor in killing?”

“No. You only know one small part of me. You know nothing of my past or of my beliefs,” he said, the words coming out with sharp edges. “Anyway, it would be like telling a panther to eat roots instead of flesh. Pointless,” he continued.

She grinned at him. A look of real delight.

“That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, soldier. I like that you’ve accepted who I am.” A sticky string stretched behind her as she moved her body away from the wall and closer to him. “I should tell the boys back home that’s the way to speak to a lady.”

Kunal gave her a lopsided smile. “A lady? Are we talking about you?”

Her eyes widened. “Was that a joke? Am I rubbing off on you?”

Oh gods, the image that came into his head.

No, she definitely didn’t need to know about that. He felt a tension in his body that hadn’t been there a moment before and he fidgeted, trying to make it go away.

“I really hope not,” he muttered. She chuckled at him.

“Are you sure? You hope I’m not rubbing off on you? Most people like me, you know,” Esha said, watching him with that look that made his entire body flush.

“I bet most people like you—but at arm’s length. Scorpion and frog. Friends until there’s a stinger in your back.”

Esha laughed but he thought it sounded tighter than before.

“I like that you think that about me and aren’t running away in terror.” She looked at the sticky glue constricting them to the dirty ground. “If you could run, that is.”

She was close to him now, close enough that he could hear her breaths as she blew an errant curl out of her eyes.

Kunal reached out as he looked down at her, brushing the curl away from her temple and tucking it behind her ear.

Everything stood still and Kunal forget everything he had to do and focused on what he wanted to do. He wanted to cup her face, feel her smooth skin under his calloused fingertips. He wanted to run his hands through her wild curls, letting his fingers get tangled in them.

He wanted to kiss her so hard it took her breath away.

But Kunal did none of those things.

He might’ve moved, might’ve acted, except for the sudden squelch of wet mud above them.

Someone else was here.





Chapter 35


Esha’s instincts kicked into action.

Kunal tried to run to the sides of the wall but was pulled backward, the tree resin holding his feet tight to the bottom.

Esha looked around frantically, pointed at her knife, and whispered, “Our shoes. We need to cut off our shoes.”

But he would have to do it—her hands were still stuck. It should’ve occurred to her before, if she hadn’t been busy making moon eyes at the soldier.

Kunal looked at her as if she was crazy but then nodded vigorously. He grabbed the knife at her waist with his free hand and hacked at their shoes and the remaining strands of resin that held her to the ropes.

A voice shouted out, not far away, and Esha shot a look at Kunal. He motioned to move, even though they were still half connected to the sticky ground.

“Lean,” he mouthed. Esha jumped to the corner of the pit as a head peeked over the top. She flattened herself against the sloping wall, hoping that the sliver of shadow would cover her, praying that they didn’t lean in to see the wall nearest them.