The Tiger at Midnight (The Tiger at Midnight Trilogy #1)(99)

Esha didn’t want to hold him prisoner in a life he didn’t want, with people who might never trust him. She had told him to go two weeks ago, and now she was forcing his hand.

Either the future he had dreamed of, free to do as he pleased, safe from the machinations of others. Or the life of a rebel where he would have her, but all else he had known would be lost. Where if anyone discovered who he was, he would be lost as well.

She wasn’t sure she was worth the trade.

“You’re the only spot of good in this world that gives me hope. I believe in you. I believe you deserve that simple life you wanted, lemon boy,” she said instead.

Esha thought she might have seen a flicker, a sign of regret—or something in Kunal’s impassive face. But if it had been there, it left as quickly.

“Take the path along the edge of the banyans east to the base of the mountains. You’ll avoid rebel patrols and be in Jansa soon enough,” she said.

He nodded, walking into the lush foliage to the east. At the last moment, he turned and gave her a long look.

The forest enveloped him as he left.

The elation at being free, at deciding his own path for the first time in weeks, washed over him as he turned away from her, leaving the Viper, the ghost of his uncle, and the schemes of the rebels behind.

He crunched through the leaves and branches, leading his horse gently over the rocky undergrowth. Kunal took a deep breath, and a few more as he and the mare continued their journey.

The happiness didn’t last long, slowly twisting and turning into ash as he considered what he had chosen. With every breath the truth washed over him, bit by bit.

Soldiers who had ripped away his family, had taken away his passions and turned him into a weapon.

Who had left him to die at the hands of the Viper.

Left Rakesh rotting in the dungeons of the rebels.

A Fort that was soaked with the blood of its queen, whose heart had been ripped out to be replaced by men with blades and gruesome smiles who believed in duty.

What had duty brought him?

All he had ever wanted was for someone to accept him and welcome him, all of him. He had found that person and walked away from it all for an easy future that might never come.

Even if she . . . didn’t want him, he was realizing he couldn’t go back to the Fort.

Not when he had seen what it was like in Dharka, the real kinship the rebels had, the vibrancy of its people. They fought not just for themselves but for their brothers and sisters in Dharka.

A true nobility.

And for the first time, he felt every facet of his emotions—the confusion at what to do, the elation at being free, and the despair as he realized what he might be leaving behind—and he didn’t hear his uncle’s voice. He didn’t try to control the emotions, shut them down, hide them away.

It left him feeling raw, exposed—but also powerful. In true control.

He knew what he had to do now.

Kunal tied his mare to the tree and turned back, his movements desperate as he flung himself through the jungle, retracing his steps to find her. He held a hand to his side as he ran, as if to hold in the hope that was crushing his heart, hope that she hadn’t left, that she’d stayed.

As he got closer to where he had left her, the hope became a slowly searing pain as he realized that all he had ever wanted had stood in front of him—and he let it go.

All because he was scared.

Kunal had known what every day at the Fort would be and what his duty as a soldier was supposed to be, yet it hadn’t stopped his life from taking another path. There was no guarantee in life, even in safety.

But he had been given the chance for happiness, if only he had been able to see past his fear to grasp it.

If he had any luck, any luck at all, he would catch her in time. He had only traveled a quarter of a mile. He would comb through the forest till he found her. And when he found her, he would grab her and pull her into him and say what he should have said then, because now he understood.

Kunal ducked under another branch, knocking aside stray leaves as he raced back.

She hadn’t asked him to leave. She hadn’t let him escape.

By letting him go, she had been offering the chance to be a part of her world, but only if it was his choice. Esha had been giving him the gift he had thought to give her before—the chance to hold a memory of her that didn’t wither over time with hate.

He saw the clearing ahead of him and pulled up, coming to a full stop, an invisible hand holding him in place as he stared out at where he had been standing previously.

What if he had been wrong? What if she really had wanted him to leave?

But the question had been so naked and raw on her face, if only he had been able to see beyond his own fear when it had been asked.

Will you stay?

Now he just wanted the chance.

And in the back of the clearing, a flurry of movement rustled through the leaves. Esha was in the shadows, crouched low to the ground. She brushed the back of her hand across her cheek as she finished packing.

When she turned in the light, he saw the glisten of tears in her eyes and his body finally unfroze, his heart clenching painfully.

He pushed forward, so desperate to talk to her and explain that he didn’t notice the soft footfalls behind him until a hand closed over his mouth.

Kunal heard himself yell for her, a single cry before his words were muffled by a sharp blow to the head.