Lady Smoke (Ash Princess Trilogy #2)(59)

Erik, to his credit, does not wither under Dragonsbane’s stare.

“I haven’t counted them myself,” he says. “But that estimate sounds accurate.”

“Then how?” she presses.

But Erik doesn’t have an answer. “We’re stronger together,” he says instead, speaking to me. “Our countries united against the Kalovaxians are stronger than we would be alone.”

“Yes,” I say with a sad smile. “But still not strong enough.”





BACK IN MY ROOM, I ring the bell that summons Marial and she arrives a few moments later. As she changes me into my nightgown, she gives me a warning look, as if she suspects that I’m breaking rules once more. I smile innocently in return, but I don’t think it fools her. After what feels like an eternity, she finally takes her leave with a stiff curtsy. I wait a few minutes before stepping out into the hallway myself, finding Erik waiting for me. He leans against the wall opposite my door, arms folded over his chest, still dressed in his brocade robe from dinner, though it looks a bit more disheveled now. His hair is down from its bun, hanging loose to his shoulders.

“Awfully forward of you, Theo,” he says with a smirk. “Asking your suitor to meet you in your bedroom.”

“Outside my bedroom,” I correct. “I thought you’d like to see S?ren.”

The cocky smile slips from his face. “Thank you,” he says, but there’s a note of fear in his voice.

“What is it?” I ask, leading him down the hall toward S?ren’s room.

“It feels like a lifetime has passed since I saw him last, even though it’s only been a couple of weeks. I might as well be an entirely different person,” he admits.

“You still seem like yourself to me,” I say. “Besides, S?ren’s done some changing as well.”

“That worries me even more,” Erik admits. “I’ve known S?ren since the day he was born. I don’t like the idea of us being strangers.”

I remember Blaise appearing out of nowhere at that banquet months ago, the first time I had seen him in a decade. He was a stranger to me then, even though once we had been close.

“Being strangers is an easy enough thing to fix,” I say, squeezing his arm. “But you have to start at some point.”

There’s a guard outside S?ren’s door who doesn’t even try to hide his disapproval at my late-night visit.

“The Emperor is here to see Prinz S?ren,” I tell the guard with a sweet smile. “They were raised together, you see.”

The guard gives a skeptical grunt but steps aside for us to pass. I lift my hand and knock.

“Come in,” S?ren says, his voice muffled through the door.

I push the door open and step inside first. S?ren is lounging on top of his bed with a leather-bound book in his hands. When he sees me, he puts it aside and sits up, frowning in confusion.

“Theo? What are you…” He trails off when Erik appears behind me, going from merely confused to bewildered. He scrambles to stand. “Erik?” His voice is tentative, as though he might be imagining him.

Erik smiles shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hello, S?ren.”

“What are you doing here?” S?ren asks, stepping toward him. He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead he folds Erik into a hug that looks tight enough to break bones. After a moment, S?ren pulls back, holding Erik at arm’s length. “And what are you wearing?”

Erik laughs. “That is a long story,” he says, but he tells him anyway.



* * *



—

When I make my move to leave them alone to catch up, Erik follows me to the door.

“My mother wants a word with you,” he tells me.

“Hoa’s here?” I ask, surprised. “Why didn’t you say so before?”

He shrugs, though he looks uncomfortable. “I thought King Etristo might want to meet her, the Kaiser’s escaped concubine. I didn’t want to subject her to that kind of attention any sooner than necessary.”

I think about the way King Etristo and his family treated me at dinner my first night here.

“Some people enjoy reveling in the misery of others,” I agree.

“Most people, I’ve found. It seems to be a human trait.” He hesitates for a moment. “We’ve removed the stitches, so she can speak again,” he says. “But it’s been so long since she has that it can be difficult to understand her at times. And she’s still a little—” He breaks off, shaking his head.

“Ten years under the Kaiser’s thumb was a nightmare I can’t fully describe to anyone,” I say. “I can’t imagine how she managed twenty.”



* * *



—

Hoa is waiting in my room when I open the door. She’s perched delicately on the edge of a chair by the empty mosaic fireplace that I imagine is purely ornamental, her back ramrod straight and her hands folded primly in her lap. Like Erik, she’s dressed in a long brocade robe, but hers is a pale peach, tied around her waist with a red silk sash. The wide sleeves swallow her thin arms so that only her bone-pale hands are visible. Her black hair is threaded with silver, though she wears it loose around her shoulders now instead of in the tight bun I’ve always seen it in. The stitches across her mouth are gone, but the holes remain, three on the top and three on the bottom. I doubt they’ll ever close completely.