The Bridge Kingdom (The Bridge Kingdom #1)(40)

Annual runs? What the hell was the old woman talking about? The only reason there was cattle in the bridge was because her father had arranged to have them purchased at Northwatch. Not for the first time, unease flickered through her at the disconnect between what she knew to be true and what she was seeing and hearing in Ithicana. They must have been sold to Valcotta or another nation, she decided. Loaded onto ships so that Maridrina was bypassed entirely. Though given Valcotta’s enormous herds, she didn’t see why they’d be importing them.

Pushing the thought aside, Lara followed Nana outside where she was blinded for a few paces by the brilliant sunlight, but when her vision cleared, it revealed Aren frowning as he haphazardly hung laundry on a line, a glowering Lia crouched next to a washbasin by his feet.

“I see there have been gaps in your education, boy.” Nana scowled at a dripping sheet.

“I’m willing to accept certain personal failings.” Aren jerked his hand away in horror from a voluminous pair of undergarments that Lia was trying to hand to him.

Nana rolled her eyes. “Useless child.” But Lara didn’t miss the faint smile that grew on the old woman’s face as Aren dried his hands on his trousers.

“You intend to elaborate on why you had me drag Lara all the way here? I assume it wasn’t for a five-minute conversation.”

“Oh, Lara and I will be talking a great deal over the coming weeks, because you’re going to leave her here with me.”

Lara’s mouth dropped open in horror, no amount of training enough to hide her dismay over this development.

Aren rocked from his heels to his toes, eyes narrowed. “Why would I do that?”

“Because she’s the Rat King’s spawn, and I’ll not have her roaming Midwatch while you’re distracted with more important matters. Here I can keep an eye on her.”

And probably arrange an accident within the week.

“No.”

Nana planted her wrinkled hands on her hips. “I wasn’t giving you the choice, boy. Besides, what need have you of her? Despite all the practice you’ve had over the years, you haven’t had her on her back once, by my reckoning. And you aren’t going to have time for it over the next two months, so she might as well be here where I can put her to use.”

Aren exhaled a long, slow breath, casting his eyes up to the sky as though searching for patience. Lara bit her tongue, waiting for his response. Knowing she was screwed if he acceded to his grandmother’s request.

“No. I didn’t bring her to Ithicana to keep her locked up as a prisoner, and I certainly didn’t bring her so you could keep her as a servant. She’s coming with me.”

Nana’s jaw hardened, her muddy fingernails digging into the fabric of her tunic. He’s never said no to her before, Lara thought, amazed.

“You’ve too much of your mother in you, Aren. Both of you blind, idealistic fools.”

Silence.

“We’re done here. Lara, come on.” Aren twisted on his heel, and Lara scampered after him, half convinced that Nana would stick a knife in her back in a last-ditch effort to keep her from Aren. From behind, she heard the old woman snap, “Jor, you keep that boy safe or I’ll cut your balls off and feed them to my snakes.”

“Always do, Nana,” Jor drawled, then trotted past Lara and Aren. “I’d walk faster. She’s not a woman used to being denied.”

Aren snorted, but kept to his measured pace. “I should’ve guessed this is what she wanted. Controlling old bat.”

Controlling, yes, but also far too canny for her own good. Lara might be walking away with Aren, but he’d heard Nana’s warnings. If Lara wasn’t careful, he might begin to take those warnings to heart.

“You can’t fault her for trying to protect her grandson. She’s fond of you.” Lara shied away from a tree hosting an enormous spider.

“Most people are. I’m quite charming, or so I’m told.”

Lara shot him a pitying look. “A king should rarely take a compliment at face value. Sycophants, and all that.”

“How fortunate that I now have you to give me the unvarnished truth.”

“Would you prefer varnished lies?”

“Possibly. I’m not certain my untested ego is ready for so much abuse. My soldiers might not follow me if they’re subjected to night after night of me crying in my cup.”

“Try sobbing into your pillow—it muffles the noise.”

Aren laughed, then glanced backward at the house. “What did she say to you?”

Holding up the root she’d been given, Lara paused, realizing that Nana had suspected Aren would refuse. Which begged the question: Why had he? The reason, she guessed, was more complicated than a desire to get her between the sheets. “Apparently she takes offense to the idea of me puking on your boots.”

He rewarded her with a low chuckle that sent an unexpected thrill racing through her. Then he extracted the blindfold from where it had been tucked into his belt, her shoulders tightening reflexively as he wrapped it around her face, his fingers smelling like soap. “Do you want to walk or be carried?”

“Walk.” Though she came to regret the decision when she’d tripped for about the dozenth time, relief filling her when they stepped into the cool darkness of the pier, Aren holding her elbows to steady her as she climbed the steps. She counted them, calculating the distance.