In hell I would.

A practice sword could bash his skull in as easily as a steel one. This time I wouldn’t be aiming for his shin. I stood and left, my assigned escorts trailing on my heels.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

KADEN

I saw her leave. The evening between us was far from over. I tried to follow, but everyone wanted to gloat with me about my easy victory over the emissary.

Easy.

The thought made my blood boil all over again.

By his third swing, I knew I wasn’t fighting an emissary. By his fifth, I knew he wasn’t even an average soldier. By the tenth strike, I knew I was going to lose. But suddenly his attack softened, and he made stupid mistakes. He didn’t lose. He let me win. Preserving his identity as a foppish emissary was more important to him than parting my head from my shoulders—and I knew that was a prize he very much desired.

I swilled back a last gulp of ale and left Chievdar Dietrik mid-sentence, following after Lia. The corridor echoed with my footsteps. I reached my chamber and threw the door open. She was standing there, ready for me, a practice sword in her hand and battle in her eyes.

“Put it down!” I ordered.

She lifted it high in the air, ready to strike. “Get out!”

I stepped closer and said each word slowly, so there was no mistaking the threat in them. “Put the sword down. Now.”

Her stance remained defiant. She would kill me before she set it aside. “So I can serve you?” she sneered.

I wasn’t going to let her off that easy. I was going to let her reel and stew and feel just as shattered as I had been. I took another step, and she swung, barely missing my head. My rage bubbled over, and I lunged at her, catching the wooden blade with my hand as she swung again. We fell to the ground and rolled, grappling for the sword. I finally squeezed her wrist until she cried with pain and dropped it. I tossed it across the room. She lurched to roll away, but I slammed her back down and pinned her.

“Stop it, Lia! Stop it now!”

She stared at me, her breaths heavy and furious.

“Don’t you hurt her, Master Kaden! Let her up! Because I know how to use this!”

Lia and I both looked toward the door. It was Aster, and her eyes were wild with fear.

“Get out!” I yelled. “Before I skin you!”

Aster raised the sword higher, standing her ground. Her arms trembled with the weapon’s weight.

“Listen to you!” Lia said. “Threatening a child. Aren’t you the brave Assassin?”

I let go of her and stood. “Get up!” I ordered, and once she got to her feet, I pointed at Aster. “Now tell her to leave, so I don’t have to skin her.”

Lia glared at me, expecting me to back down. I reached for my dagger. She grudgingly turned to Aster, her expression softening. “It’s all right. I can handle the Assassin. He’s all bluster, no bite. Go on now.”

The girl still hesitated, her eyes glistening. Lia kissed two fingers and lifted them to the heavens in a silent command to Aster. “Go,” she said quietly, and the girl left reluctantly, shutting the door behind her.

I thought Lia had calmed down, but as soon as she turned back to me, her wrath had returned. “Royal? You will sleep in my quarters tonight, royal?”

“You know I’d never force myself on you.”

“Then why did you say it?”

“I was angry,” I said. “I was hurt.”

Because I knew everything she had said to me about the Komizar and wanting power was a lie, and I wanted to call her bluff. Because I wanted the Komizar to believe there was an irreparable change in our relationship. Because I was trying to keep her here in my room and safe for one more night. Because everything was flying out of control. Because she was right—I wanted to trust her but I didn’t. Because when I left a week ago, she had kissed me.

Because I so stupidly loved her.

I saw the tempest in her eyes, the waves of calculation crashing and cresting, weighing every word of what she could and couldn’t say. Tonight there would be no honesty within her.

“It’s a dangerous game you’re playing, Lia,” I said. “And it’s not a game you’ll win.”

“I don’t play games, Kaden. I wage wars. Don’t make me wage one on you.”

“Those are brave bold words that mean nothing to me.”

Her lips parted, ready for a biting comeback. “I’m not—” But she caught herself and refused to go on, almost as if she didn’t trust herself to say more. She turned away and grabbed a blanket from the barrel and threw it to me. “I’m going to sleep, Kaden. You should too.”

She was done. I could almost see the weight on her shoulders. Her lids were heavy with weariness, as if no fight was left in her. She didn’t bother to change. She lay on the bed and pulled the quilt over her shoulders.

“Can we—”

“Good night.”

We went to sleep without another word, but as I lay there in the dark, I replayed our earlier conversation in my head. She had hit every note when she explained her decision to marry the Komizar: the resignation, bitterness, throwing my own words back in my face, the regret, the glistening eyes, every single note as if she was singing a practiced song. Her performance was near flawless, but it had none of the genuine weariness that I had just seen now. I’m not going to lie, Kaden.

But she had. I was certain. I remembered her bitter words to me as we left the vagabond camp when I said she was a poor liar. No, actually, I can be a very good one, but some lies require more time to spin.