The Tiger at Midnight (The Tiger at Midnight Trilogy #1)(95)

Kunal blanched, ever so slightly, even though he knew the prince wanted him to react. Harun moved closer to Esha, settling his hands on either side of her shoulders.

“Be careful?”

“You know I always am,” Esha said, looking up at him. Something passed between them and Kunal fought back the urge to grimace.

Bhandu clasped him on the shoulder as the prince left, his hand clenched on the hilt of the knife on his belt. It jarred him out of his thoughts, which were swirling in confusion, trying to decipher what had just occurred.

“Good luck, Kunal. I know the prince mentioned attempted murder on your part but if you touch a hair on her head, I will find you. Anyways, I’m more worried about you, cat eyes. Try not to get killed—by her,” Bhandu said with a grin, the twins looking at him with matching expressions of envy. Arpiya was silent, her head going between Esha and the retreating Harun with an eyebrow quirked.

“If she hasn’t killed me so far, it’ll be harder than you seem to think,” Kunal said in response.

Bhandu let out a deep-throated laugh, the sound rumbling. “That’s because she’s never truly wanted you dead. Make sure it stays that way.”

The rest of the morning training session passed quickly.

Kunal jumped into the training with ease, appreciating the distance and clarity it gave him. With every lunge and blow, he felt clearer, more sure. If nothing else, his body and skills were the same, a constant in the changing storm that had become his life.

His clothing had become torn and dirtied by training, but Kunal felt a lightness he hadn’t known in a while. The rest of the group was laughing and joking about Bhandu’s newly acquired set of bruises, a gift from Arpiya for failing to learn the correct move, as they walked down the corridor. Esha caught his eye as he turned to leave to his room.

“Clean up and meet us back here for dinner after,” she said, looking up at him.

His core warmed at her mussed, disheveled state. Her skin was flushed and sweat shone on her temples and neck, dripping lower. Kunal pulled his thoughts away from its descent, trying not to imagine what was under the neckline of her shirt.

He nodded and she sent him a small smile as the others trailed ahead, out of earshot.

“I see why you were a big shot at the Fort, Kunal. It wasn’t all your uncle. We could use someone like you on our side if you ever decide that bronze armor isn’t worth it.” The surprise, and slight horror, must have shone on his face because she continued on hastily. “We can always use good men and good fighters.”

The open warmth on her face had disappeared, her expression shuttered and almost—pained? He let her go, watching her jog down the hall, before turning back toward his room. The kindness behind those words was clear, but all Kunal could think about was that armor.

Would he ever have a chance to wear it again, or would his entire life consist of him being here, as a prisoner, living a lie someone else had created? Fear rose in his throat. This mission might be his chance to escape, but to leave would be to leave Esha as well.

Back at his room, the prince was lounging against the door.

He was dressed in the clothes from before, and twirled a small knife in his hand with indolent grace. Kunal slowed, not bothering to hide the suspicion on his face.

Harun looked up at him, nostrils flared.

“If you do anything to harm my mission, or my asset, I will set my most brutal men on you, soldier. Esha will look like a pretty scrap of silk compared to them. And you will suffer. She may trust you, but I don’t, despite your story. You’re here, alive, by her grace. Don’t make me regret giving you that antidote. This is your chance to prove that you are a rebel now.”

Kunal tilted his head, the barest acknowledgment.

“I know,” he said simply.

He understood. He wouldn’t do a thing to hurt Esha, but he still hadn’t decided whether he wanted that chance to prove himself. Kunal knew himself enough to know his limits.

Harun let out a breath. “Good. Makes it easier on everyone. Gods know why she wants you on the journey, but my Viper has never led us wrong.”

He watched Kunal for a long moment, the only sound in the hall the whoosh of air as he twirled his knife.

“You might be fine being here at our base, training with us, maybe even helping us on a mission. Maybe you see the truth and nobility in our cause. Maybe it’s for a girl.”

Harun sent a vicious grin toward Kunal. Kunal felt stunned, rooted to his spot.

He had hit some truth—bit by bit, Kunal did see the nobility in their cause. The good. Maybe he always had. And now he had the chance to do something about it.

“She’s a heartbreaker. You’ll think you know what she needs, that you can fill that hole in her heart. But the only thing that will fill that heart—that she needs—is cold-blooded revenge.”

Time stood still for a few seconds, in which every doubt and fear and worry Kunal had experienced since meeting Esha rose to the surface, clawing at his throat. Kunal had let himself see, for the briefest of moments, a future with the girl who was something to him.

How had Harun known?

“But do you think your little soldier heart can stand by and watch her kill the pretender, your king, and raze through your comrades? Could you defy every oath you took and every vow you made?” Harun continued as Kunal tried to ignore the bile rising in his throat.