Lady Smoke (Ash Princess Trilogy #2)(11)

Blaise has a late-night shift but agrees to stay with me until I fall asleep. Though I’m grateful for the company, my conversation with Heron weighs heavily on my shoulders. I don’t mean to lie, but I also can’t bring myself to tell Blaise about going to see S?ren tonight. I don’t want to know what he’ll say about that.

“If we get to Sta’Crivero and Dragonsbane still tries to push this marriage business,” he says, keeping his back to me as I change into a nightgown, “we can leave. There are plenty of other ships in Sta’Crivero. You, me, Heron, and Art in the kitchens.”

He doesn’t mention S?ren, which only affirms my decision not to tell him about my plan. In his mind, S?ren is Dragonsbane’s problem now and nothing more. He wouldn’t understand. He would only wonder if there was any truth to the rumors that are swirling about our involvement.

“We need Dragonsbane for more than her ships,” I remind him with a sigh, pulling the cotton nightgown over my head. “And she knows that. You can turn around, I’m decent.”

He does, and his eyes dance down my body before working their way back up to meet mine. He smiles slightly.

“You’re never decent,” he tells me, making me smile back. It’s another fleeting glimpse of a simpler, more playful life we could have had. His smile fades too quickly, though, and we fall back into the life that’s actually ours. “And you can’t really be considering her proposal.”

“Of course not,” I scoff. “But it isn’t as easy as leaving, you know that. Anyone else we accept help from will want something. Everyone wants something from me.”

I don’t realize how true the words are until I say them out loud, but once they are said, they are undeniable.

I stretch out under the covers and turn to face the wall my bed is pressed up against, hearing him shuck his own boots off before the mattress gives as he crawls in next to me.

I still feel the lie hanging uncomfortably between us even as he fits his body to mine, his chest pressing against my back, his bent knees curling behind mine, his forehead touching the back of my head. Tentatively, his arm comes around my waist, his skin hot.

He smells like Astrea, like spices and hearth fire and home.

“I just want you,” he whispers, the words tentative.

I trace the tips of my fingers over his arms, words that I want to say back lodged in my throat.





I PRETEND TO SLEEP UNTIL BLAISE leaves for his shift, trying to ignore the pool of anxiety that has taken up residence in my gut. I’m going to see S?ren tonight, and though I’d like to pretend my biggest worry about that is being caught, that’s not the whole truth of it. The last time I saw him, I had betrayed him and he had told me he loved me anyway. He doesn’t. He can’t love me. But something tells me this meeting won’t be any more comfortable.

I did what I had to do, I tell myself again, and though that might be the truth, it doesn’t ease the guilt that’s worked its way under my skin.

Luckily, I don’t have long to think about it before Heron arrives with a knock so soft I almost miss it. I push Blaise’s words out of my mind and throw off the blankets, climbing out of bed.

“Come in,” I call out, slipping my boots back on.

The door opens wide and then closes again, and I’d think it was only the wind if I didn’t know better.

“Did you tell Blaise what we were doing tonight?” Heron asks, shimmering into view. The Air Gem chandelier earring I stole from Crescentia is now hooked through the material of his shirt, just above his heart like a badge. In the aftermath of its use, the tiny, clear gems glow in the darkness for a moment, giving enough light to see Heron’s face, creased with worry and a grim kind of hope.

“Would you have?” I reply, tying the laces of one boot, then the other before pulling on my cloak over my nightgown. “We both know he would have tried to talk me out of it. No one can see me go down there.”

Heron holds a hand out to me to help me stand up, and when I take it, our joined fingers begin to fade from sight, leaving behind a tingling feeling, like they have fallen asleep. The feeling travels up my arm, erasing it as it goes, along with Heron’s. Our shoulders, torsos, heads, and legs all disappear, until the room looks empty and my whole body is buzzing.

“I won’t be able to hold it over both of us for long, so we’d better get moving now,” he says, shifting his grip so that our fingers are linked before pulling me out the door and letting it slam behind us.

I stay close to him as he hurries down the hallway, nimbly sidestepping the handful of skeleton crew members bustling about.

A couple of them must feel us as we pass: they look around uncertainly, a shiver of fear dancing down their spines as they imagine ghosts and tell themselves it’s only the wind.

I have only a vague idea of where S?ren is being kept, but Heron knows the way well enough, twisting and turning down passageways and rickety spiral staircases. I only have to follow along and try to keep my thoughts from lingering too long on S?ren.

I am only going to ask him questions, I remind myself. We aren’t going to talk about his suggestion that Blaise was mine-mad or how he insinuated I might have real feelings for him.

I don’t. Maybe I did once, but that was before he’d led his men to butcher thousands in Vecturia. That was before I saw him for who he really was. But even as I think that, I know it isn’t the full truth. No, I don’t love him, but I do care for him. I don’t want to see him in chains. I don’t want to know that I was the one who put him there.