The Prison Healer (The Prison Healer #1)(112)

“You should have told me.”

The five words came from somewhere deep within her. Somewhere that had been fed by betrayal and hurt for the last eight days. Somewhere that was laced with all her pain and loneliness from the last ten years.

“Kiva . . .”

“You should have told me!” she repeated, returning to her feet, needing not to be on the ground for whatever was about to unfold.

Jaren followed after her, his face ghostly pale and tight with pain as he struggled first to his knees and then the rest of the way. Kiva didn’t reach out to help him, resisting every healer instinct within her to hold on to her anger.

“I tried to tell you,” Jaren said, panting lightly at how difficult it had been for him to rise, one hand pressed to his abdomen. He leaned a shoulder against the limestone wall, using it to brace himself and remain standing. “In the garden, before we found Tipp. I was going to tell you then.”

“Would that have been before or after you kissed me?” Kiva said in a hard voice. She remembered that moment clearly, how he’d been leaning in, his breath whispering across her lips. She shoved the memory away, refusing to acknowledge how it still made her feel.

“Before,” Jaren said, his tone calm, soothing, as if talking to a wild animal. “I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while, but never found the right time. I wasn’t going to let things go further between us before you knew.”

“You’ve had nine weeks, Jaren!” Kiva cried, ignoring the fact that the last two were spent with them in separate punishment cells. “Even after that night in the garden, there were still days before what happened in the quarry. You could have told me at any time. You should have told me at any time.”

“And what would I have said?” Jaren asked, his calm tone morphing into exasperation. “‘Guess what, I’ve been lying to you about who I am. Please don’t hate me for it’? Yeah, I’m sure you would have been fine with that.”

“Of course I wouldn’t have been fine!” Kiva said, loud enough to echo off the tunnel walls. In the back of her mind, she knew they should be focusing on the Trial by Earth, figuring out where they were and trying to find their way aboveground before the allocated hour was up. But too much was simmering within her for her to think about anything but the person in front of her. The prince in front of her.

“I don’t know what I can say to make this better,” Jaren said, running his free hand through his hair.

“You can tell me why!” Kiva cried, the word breaking.

Jaren’s face softened. She didn’t want to see him looking at her like that, realizing just how upset she was.

“No one knows the full story,” he said quietly, moving a step toward her, but then buckling slightly and shifting back to lean against the wall again, his second hand now pressed to his abdomen as well. Kiva noted the move, a distant part of her frowning, but before she could muster her inner healer and ask if he was all right, he continued, “Only Naari.” He paused. “I assume you know . . . ?”

“That she’s your Golden Shield?” Kiva said. “Yeah. You’re both just full of surprises.”

Jaren had the decency to look contrite, but Kiva remained unmoved.

Taking a deep breath, then wincing and paling further, Jaren revealed, “I came to Zalindov to get information about the rebel movement.”

Kiva froze. “What?”

“We heard that Tilda Corentine had been arrested, but she was found across the border in Mirraven, outside of our jurisdiction,” Jaren explained, something Kiva already knew. “Mirraven’s ruling house wouldn’t even consider handing her to us, despite knowing the history between the Vallentis and Corentine bloodlines. They delighted in making it impossible for us to talk with her, not without us starting a war with them.”

“Talk with her,” Kiva repeated, her voice little more than a croak. “You mean interrogate her.”

Jaren watched her carefully, clearly weighing his words. “I know you’re sympathetic to her cause, you’ve already told me as much.”

Everworld help her, he was right. She’d told the crown prince and his most trusted guard that she understood the rebels’ motives. She might as well have said she was one of them, for all the difference it would have made. If she weren’t already locked up in Zalindov, that was exactly where she would be headed for such an admission. Her father had been arrested for less.

“Your compassion for them is admirable,” Jaren continued. “And your reasoning is sound.”

Kiva’s mouth fell open. She quickly closed it again.

“But that doesn’t change the facts,” he went on. “What I told you that night remains true: there’s been too much unrest from the rebel movement in recent years, and none more so than in the last few months. Their uprising is in full swing, with them hell-bent on creating havoc and discord throughout not just Evalon, but beyond it. And Tilda Corentine has been their figurehead, recruiting more and more followers and rallying them against the Vallentis crown. My crown.”

Kiva’s blood was like ice. No wonder Jaren had never liked Tilda. They were sworn enemies.

“I won’t lie,” Jaren said, “it was hard hearing you defend her cause.”

“I didn’t defend her cause.” Kiva’s mouth spoke before she gave it permission. “I just said that I saw where they were coming from.” She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. “You still haven’t explained why you’re here. What information did you think you’d find?”