Lady Smoke (Ash Princess Trilogy #2)(28)

The men and women do as she asks without hesitation before she dismisses the remaining crowd. Anders comes up from belowdecks, eyes scanning the body-strewn deck with a cold detachment. When he sees Pavlos, though, he freezes. He pushes his way through the crowd toward us as everyone leaves, coming to stand closer to Dragonsbane than I think is entirely appropriate, with his brow creased in concern. She must feel uncomfortable with his proximity as well, because she takes a step away.

“What happened? Are you all right?” he asks her.

She waves his concern away. “I’m fine,” she says before pausing, her eyes narrowing at S?ren. “One of the hostages attacked me, but the Prinkiti stopped him.” The effort it takes for her to admit her own weakness in the same breath as she commends S?ren is clear.

Though S?ren doesn’t understand the words, he seems to guess the sentiment. He nods at Dragonsbane, but wisely says nothing.

“He saved you,” Anders says slowly, disbelief evident in every word.

Dragonsbane bristles at the phrase. She looks at S?ren, her curiosity winning out. “Why?” she asks him in Kalovaxian.

S?ren shrugs. “I meant what I said—I am on your side.”

Dragonsbane frowns, and I can tell she still doesn’t believe him.

“We can use him,” I say again in Astrean. “His guilt is real and it’s driving him. He’s of much more use to us as an ally than as a prisoner.”

Dragonsbane’s nostrils flare. “He’s one of them. He can never be an ally,” she says before turning to Anders. “I’ll need to speak with Pavlos’s family as soon as possible. Did you get information from any of the hostages we took belowdecks?”

For a moment, I think Anders is going to ignore her question and press for more about Dragonsbane’s near assassination, but he finally nods. “They each talked easily enough, but in the end, most of it couldn’t be verified with the other prisoners, as usual.”

“What could be verified?” she asks.

Anders’s eyes flicker to me, then S?ren, then back to Dragonsbane.

“I’m not sure it’s wise to discuss in front of mixed company, Captain,” he says carefully.

“The Prinkiti wants to be of assistance,” she says in Astrean. “Perhaps we should let him try to suss out what information is true. He and Theo know the Kalovaxians better than anyone, after all.”

“?‘Prinkiti’ is me, isn’t it?” S?ren whispers to me in Kalovaxian. “I really don’t like that nickname.”

“I think you’re stuck with it,” I whisper back.

“Hush,” Dragonsbane snaps at us. “What information, Anders?”

He still hesitates, glancing uncertainly at S?ren. “The story traveling the country is that the Prinkiti was kidnapped by the Queen after she murdered the Theyn and ran away. The Kaiser is offering a million gold pieces for her head, but five million if she’s brought back alive.”

The implication slithers across my skin. I vow to myself that I’ll end my own life before I let anyone take me to the Kaiser alive.

“We heard the same, more or less. Are there any rewards for the Prinkiti?” Dragonsbane asks.

S?ren lets out an annoyed huff.

“Ten million for the Prinkiti,” Anders says. “On the condition that he is handed over alive and unharmed. If he has so much as a stubbed toe, the reward is forfeit.”

“The Kaiser doesn’t really want his son back, but the people love their Prinz, so he’s creating that illusion to keep their goodwill, all the while ensuring that there’s too much risk to tempt most bounty hunters,” I say. Dragonsbane and Anders turn to look at me, surprised that I spoke. I continue. “Everyone knows S?ren is a warrior. If he was kidnapped, he wouldn’t have gone without a fight. Injuries are a given, so as far as they’re concerned, S?ren is a lost cause. They’ll be focusing their efforts on me, just as the Kaiser wants them to.”

Dragonsbane’s eyebrows rise but she nods, turning back to Anders. “Any rumors about where they’re searching hardest?”

“There was a rumor that she escaped to a refugee camp in Timmoree,” he says.

“Good,” Dragonsbane says. “That’s three days north of Sta’Crivero, and I’ve been assured that once we’re in the city, King Etristo will protect Theo with his own life.”

“Words are easy,” I point out. “Do you trust him?”

She shrugs. “I trust that he’s motivated by money,” she says. “And I trust that his cut of your dowry will bring him far more than five million gold pieces.”

I can’t argue with the logic of that, though my stomach sours at the word dowry. It was a custom in the Kalovaxian court as well, girls being sold off with a pile of gold to show their worth. It bothered me then, when it was girls I didn’t really know and whom I disliked on principle. Now, though, I am the one being sold off, earning a profit not just for Astrea, but for King Etristo and presumably Dragonsbane as well. I feel like a thing instead of a person, the way I always felt around the Kaiser.

“What of the hostages?” I ask Anders, trying to push the feeling away and focus on the present. “Are they willing to turn spy for us?”

“They’re willing to not be executed,” Anders says, words clipped, but Dragonsbane is already shaking her head.