Page 26 of The Blade in the Ashes
“Pasnia already had it,” Clay explained in clipped words, his eyes flaring gold before settling back into their more common grey shade.
Nikolai nodded, twisting a fork within his fingertips. “And she is?”
“Dead.”
Nikolai inhaled deeply, his face not betraying a single thought that I knew was swirling in his mind.
“And your Goddess?” he asked Clay, lips pursed and eyes unblinking.
Clay flinched, the motion likely not noticeable to anyone else. Still, the gruffness of his voice betrayed far too much of his pain. “She is obviously not here.”
Nikolai’s servants brought in individual plates for all of us. Simple meals. A sliver of veal and steamed vegetables. Not that I minded after so many days of traveling. Anything was better than rabbit and squirrel at this point. Rankor even moaned when he bit into the meat.
“It’s good,” he said through a mouth full of food, lifting one shoulder in an easy shrug.
I watched him shovel another bite in as a cold shudder worked down my spine.
A year ago, I had sat in this very seat while Nikolai killed the man who had sat where Rankor now unabashedly inhaled his food. Nikolai had used his magic to drown the man all because he had insulted me.
No. Notme.
He had insulted Joliette, the woman I’d been pretending to be. Nikolai’s actual wife.
I tightened my grip on the knife in my hand, willing myself to focus.
“So, you failed in your attempt to stop Pasnia,” Nikolai mused, his own food untouched in front of him. “Now the God of the Dead walks among us, and you have come to what? Ask for me to pledge my army in your battle against him and his daughter?”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
Nikolai visibly tensed when I spoke, as if the sound of my voice took him by surprise.
He met my gaze, hazel eyes burning into mine. “Everything is more complicated than it seems when you’re involved, isn’t it, bird?”
That damn nickname.
After all this time, it still sent trails of fire burning through me.
Kent cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably as he rubbed a hand over the still-healing wounds in his chest. Camilla and Elaina both turned towards him at once.
“Your Grace, perhaps we may be excused?” Elaina asked Clay. “I should check Kent’s bandages.”
Yes, please leave and take Camilla with you.
Kent, however, looked like leaving this room was the last thing he wanted to do. “No, I’ll stay.”
“Kent, you’re hurting.” Camilla frowned. “You’re of no use to anyone if you don’t let yourself heal.”
I dropped my knife, gripped hold of my glass instead. Holding onto a weapon right now was a bad idea. It made it far too easy to launch myself across the table and stab her.
What right didCamillahave to be giving anyone instructions or advice? She was a traitor and a murderer. Kent didn’t need her permission to stay at this table.
“I’m a strategist. I will be here while we strategize,” Kent growled.
My grin was impossible to hide. At least I wasn’t the only one unable to forgive Camilla for what she’d done.
Kent turned to Clay, looking to his king for a direct order. Clay, in return, furrowed his brow, conflict and concern clear in his features. He still seemed uncomfortable having to set aside the role of friend for that of ruler. Eventually, though it looked like it upset him to do so, he nodded. “Let’s strategize then.”
Nikolai barked a laugh. “I haven’t officially agreed to join this little group of yours.”
