Lara’s chest tightened, a sudden rush of anguish filling her, and she looked away. “It hurts to think about that.” And as illogical as it was, what Sarhina described was not what she wanted. It was not who she was.
“It hurts now because the pain is fresh. It will get better with time.” Sarhina pulled Lara close, pressing her lips to her forehead. “You do what you need to get to the other side of this, and then you come back to us. Promise?”
Before she could answer, footsteps thudded against the ground, and Lara turned away from her sister to see Aren standing at the mouth of the cave, arms crossed and his mouth drawn into a thin line.
It was the first chance she’d had to look at him in the light of day, and Lara found her eyes drifting over his tall form, shoulders broad and square, head held high. His hair was longer than he’d worn it in Ithicana, showing some of the curl that Ahnna’s possessed, and his face was shadowed with stubble.
“Bronwyn’s awake and asking for you,” he said, his deep voice unreadable.
“Thank you for telling me.” She tried to meet his gaze, but he looked away, saying, “I’m going to load the horses.”
Sarhina snorted. “As if you know how. I’ll help you.”
“I’m going to say good-bye to Bronwyn and Cresta,” Lara muttered. Going inside, she sucked in a breath as she saw Bronwyn sitting, her weight resting against Cresta as Nana spooned broth into her mouth. “It’s good to see you awake.”
“Reluctantly.” Her sister smiled. “But I couldn’t let you leave me unconscious next to another fire again, now could I.”
Nana huffed out a breath and then spit into the corner as she abandoned them.
“God, but she’s ornery,” Bronwyn muttered, her still-pale face scrunching up. “How did you tolerate her for a year?”
“By keeping my contact with her minimal.” Lara smirked. “I needed to sneak out one night, so I dosed her with a laxative. I had hours of freedom while she was confined to the outhouse.”
Both her sisters laughed, Bronwyn clutching at her shoulder. “Stop. Stop. That hurts.”
Lara leaned in, pressing her forehead against her sister’s. “You get better. I’ll have it no other way.”
“You’ve gotten very authoritative, Your Majesty,” Bronwyn said before leaning into her.
Then Cresta pressed her head against theirs. Then another set of arms wrapped around them, and Sarhina’s pregnant belly pushed its way into the hug.
Lara allowed herself a moment to breathe, before saying, “Stick with the plan. Get back to the mountains and stay safe.” Such an easy statement to make, but Lara knew her sisters were still in grave danger. Those still in Vencia would remain in the city, laying low until storm season eased, then splitting up and taking ships north and south, while Sarhina, Bronwyn, and Cresta would meet up with a merchant caravan of Ensel’s people, who’d provide them cover and get them back to Renhallow—hopefully before Sarhina’s baby came.
“We’ll leave immediately.” Sarhina stood. “The wagon has a smuggler’s compartment—we’ll hide Bronwyn and Cresta inside in case we cross a patrol. No one is going to suspect an old woman and a pregnant girl. And no patrol is going to want to search a wagon full of dried cow dung for contraband.”
“You plan for everything.”
“You should try it sometime,” her sister replied, then gave Lara a smile and a little shove toward the mouth of the cave.
Outside, Aren stood with the horses, deep in conversation with Nana, but they broke off the moment they caught sight of Lara. Striding up to her horse, Lara tightened the girth and checked that the saddlebags were well secured before mounting. She averted her eyes as Aren awkwardly climbed on his horse, though there was a certain petty part of her that enjoyed seeing him incompetent at something. Especially after all the mockery she’d endured over her seasickness.
“If anything happens to him—” Nana started to say, but Lara was tired of her threats.
“Yes, yes. You’ll hunt me down and feed me to the sharks. I remember.” Then she clicked her tongue at her horse to get it moving, riding down the trail to the river. A moment later, she heard the thud thud of Aren’s horse trotting after her.
She waited until they’d crossed the river, heading south and east toward the low mountains before falling in next to him. “By now they’ll have determined that my ploy last night was just a ruse and that we didn’t escape by water. But they’ll anticipate that’s our intention, so I suspect the patrols along the coast will be intense. For that reason, we’ll skirt the edge of the Red Desert until we reach Valcottan territory, then we can return to the highway and ride straight to Pyrinat.” The capital city of Valcotta was the surest place to find the Empress.
Aren’s eyes remained fixed on the path ahead of them, knuckles white from gripping the reins. “Assuming Keris got Zarrah free, all of this is unnecessary. She gave her word to supply Eranahl.”
“Which buys time but doesn’t solve the problem. And we have no way of knowing if she made it out, especially given my half brother is involved. You’re too bloody trusting, Aren.”
“Full brother.”
Lara opened her mouth, then closed it again. After a moment, she asked, “Pardon?”
“You have the same mother, or so he claimed.”
It was possible. Lara had left the compound when she was five, and while she remembered Keris, her memories were hazy and unspecific.
“And I don’t trust Keris—not by a long shot,” Aren said. “But I do have total confidence that he’ll do what it takes to stay alive, and for that to happen, he needs to take the crown from your father. And for that to happen, he needs Eranahl to endure.”
Lara listened silently as Aren explained Keris’s plan, which was overly complicated, in her opinion. But instead of focusing on her brother’s plot, the first question that came from her lips was, “My mother . . . Is she still alive?”
Aren was silent for a long moment, then he shook his head. “No.”
Grief stabbed her in the stomach, the long years since she’d seen her mother doing nothing to temper the hurt. “Do you know how she died?”
“It’s better if you don’t know.” Aren kicked the sides of his horse, moving ahead of her on the path.
A flash of anger seared through her veins, and Lara galloped past him, wheeling her horse around to block his path. “Don’t be petty, Aren. Withholding this just to piss me off is a low blow.”
“Big presumption that I care enough to piss you off.”
He looked away as he said it, and she narrowed her eyes, knowing he was trying to redirect her. Exhaling slowly, she asked, “Please tell me the truth.”
Silence stretched.
“What I know is what Keris told me.” Aren met her gaze. “He said your mother tried to go after you to get you back and that your father strangled her as punishment. And as a warning to the other wives not to cross him.” He hesitated, then added, “I’m sorry.”
Lara couldn’t breathe. The world spun in and out of focus, and she doubled over, hands clenching into fists around the reins. Between her teeth, she snarled, “I hate him!”