He shuffled his feet, then continued his story. “We knew the armies were still loyal to us, so we decided to meet up with Ashlyn at our central military base — Highworth Keep — and consult with her about our next steps. It took us weeks of travel, taking the back roads and avoiding people as much as possible, all while trying to care for Naari as best as we could. But when we finally arrived, we learned that Ash was in Mirraven spying on King Navok. The last missive she’d sent claimed she planned to leave soon, so we waited for her. But when more weeks passed and she didn’t appear, we grew restless and decided to travel north, figuring she’d stop at Stoneforge on her way back into Evalon.”
He waved a hand toward the base, and said, “When we got here, no one had heard from her, so we began to worry. We gave her a little more time before determining that something needed to be done, and we started planning a rescue mission. But, well . . . no need for that anymore.” Caldon shrugged. “So basically, the last ten weeks have been spent either hiding, traveling, or whiling away the days in military camps.” His gaze locked on Kiva’s bruised cheek as he finished, “And yet, something tells me that as much as I’ve hated every single minute, you haven’t had the best time yourself, wherever you’ve been.”
It was a leading statement, one Kiva didn’t want to answer. “You didn’t mention Tipp. Is he . . .” She struggled to ask, afraid of what he might say.
“He’s here,” Caldon said, and the air left Kiva in a relieved rush. But she almost choked on her next breath when he added, “He arrived tonight with Torell and Cresta. We didn’t bind him — it was clear he didn’t want to be anywhere near them. The moment he saw Jaren, he lost it. Cried almost as much as you did and latched on to him so tight I thought he’d never let go. We had to shove a moradine tonic down his throat to calm him down. Poor kid was asleep in seconds.”
Kiva had trouble talking around the lump in her throat. “He came with Tor and Cresta? But . . . how? And — and why?”
The prince eyed her shrewdly. “Since you evidently don’t want to share your story yet, why don’t we go and find out theirs?”
Kiva sent him an apologetic look. She should have known he’d notice her deflecting every time he tried to question her. “I’m sorry, I know there’s a lot I need to tell you. It’s just . . .” She trailed off, unable to finish.
“What did I say about apologizing?” Caldon said, his eyes full of more understanding than she deserved. “We’ve got time. You’ll share when you’re ready.” He jerked his chin toward the base. “Now, come on, let’s go and get some answers.”
Chapter Eleven
Upon arriving back at the command center, Kiva did a stutter-step through the door when she saw that Jaren had returned. He stood with his arms crossed, his expression closed, his eyes avoiding her entirely. But he was there. And Ashlyn, too, standing at his side in a similar position, her maid’s outfit making her look considerably less intimidating.
“Took you long enough,” Ashlyn grumbled to Caldon, before turning to Kiva and asking, her voice much kinder, “Are you all right? Is your shoulder —”
“I’m fine,” Kiva said quickly.
“What’s wrong with your shoulder?” Caldon asked, peering from her left arm to her right, but her dress covered all evidence of the wound.
“Nothing,” Kiva said, sending a warning look to Ashlyn, who cocked a pale eyebrow in response but thankfully didn’t say anything else.
Jaren’s expression hadn’t changed — he’d clearly decided to ignore Kiva, and while she wanted to run into his arms and beg for forgiveness, she knew the best thing she could do was give him space. Caldon had seemed confident Jaren would warm up to her — eventually — so she just had to be patient and not push him into anything before he was ready.
But Kiva didn’t feel like being patient. Not when he was so close, after being apart for so long. She unconsciously moved a step nearer to him, but a twitch of Cresta’s head caught her attention, and Kiva looked toward the ex-quarrier only to see the warning in her hazel eyes.
Don’t, Cresta seemed to be saying. You’ll regret it.
Kiva bit her cheek hard enough to draw blood, but gave a nod of resigned understanding.
“Have you learned anything yet, Eidran?” Caldon asked, prompting Kiva’s gaze to shoot to the unfamiliar young man, her eyes widening with realization.
Eidran was the name of the Royal Guard who had originally planned to infiltrate Zalindov, but he’d broken his leg, leaving Jaren to go in his place. From what Kiva had gleaned while eavesdropping on the Royal Council, he was one of Evalon’s best spies when it came to gathering rebel intelligence. Last she’d heard, he’d been recovering from his injury in Albree, but that had been months ago — he’d had plenty of time to heal and, apparently, find his way back to Jaren.
“The general said we should wait for you,” Eidran answered, his voice quiet, calming even. Despite his formidable size, there was something very settling about him.
“Well, we’re here now,” Caldon said, offering no further explanation as he strode toward them, with Kiva quickly following. “Remove their gags, and let’s hear what they have to say.”
If Ashlyn was annoyed that her brother was giving the orders despite her outranking him, she didn’t let on. Her focus was solely on Torell and Cresta as Eidran tugged the cloths from their mouths.
Immediately, Tor looked at Kiva and rasped, “Are you —”
“Quiet.”
The word was low and brimming with barely restrained fury, a command even the bravest of souls would know not to ignore.
And it was said by Jaren.
It was the first time Kiva had heard his voice in weeks, and it took everything in her not to start tearing up again. She only managed because Cresta sent her another look, this one saying, Get it together, you softhearted fool.
Kiva fisted her hands until her fingernails dug into her palms. She was desperate to find out how her brother was there, what Cresta was doing with him, why Caldon had said Tipp hadn’t wanted to be near them, and so many other things. But she knew better than to speak, the very air simmering with tension. She shot a pleading glance at Caldon, but he was too busy looking worriedly at Jaren to notice, so Kiva turned to Ashlyn. The princess held her eyes before offering a slight nod and stepping forward until she was in front of Tor.
“Torell Corentine,” she said, “I’m Ashlyn Vallentis.”
“I know who you are, General,” he replied.
His emerald gaze was steady and full of respect, which seemed to take Ashlyn aback. But she rallied and said, “It takes either a brave man or a stupid one to turn himself in as you did tonight. You’re wanted for treason, the penalty for which is a life sentence at Zalindov.”
Kiva flinched, and all eyes shifted to her — including Jaren’s frosty gaze.
“Since we just came from there,” Cresta drawled, mercifully reclaiming their attention, “it’d be really annoying if you made us go straight back.”
Kiva sent her a grateful look, to which the redhead just rolled her eyes, as if reminding Kiva that it was becoming an irritating habit to save her — even from herself.