Page 27 of Sharpest Court

I hesitated. Telling him about Erik’s Huntings was one thing, but I wasn’t sure how much to reveal about my plans to destroy this compass. Or whether what I said would get back to Keil’s group.

“It’ll stay between us,” he said without missing a beat. “For as long as you want it to.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek, considering whether I truly trusted Keil. But the answer arrived with the memory of him brandishing the compass a few moments ago, filling me with immediate relief. Because there hadn’t been a single part of me that worried he wouldn’t return it.

And I knew: I’d trusted him for a long time already.

“Erik told me it does more than point to Wielders,” I said. “He believes he can use it to forge an empire. I think the key to understanding it—and destroying it—might be here in Ansora. And I think Erik’s interest in Banarrat could be linked to his plans.”

Keil processed this for several seconds. Then he nodded. “All right. What can I do to help you?”

I blinked, taken aback. “Nothing. I understand we’ll need to work together for Banarrat, but this is different. This could put you in danger.”

“Have you spent so long thinking of me as an ambassador that you’ve forgotten I am a soldier?” He drily rephrased my earlier words, earning my glare. But he weathered the look as he leaned forward again and said, more serious, “I want to do this with you.”

“Because I’m helpless?” I asked, a tad too sharp.

His eyebrows formed a grim line. “Not for a moment since I met you have I thought of you as helpless. I want to do this because I trust that what you’re doing matters.” At my wary silence, he continued, “I helped you with the symbol. I can help you again, if you let me.”

Someone recognized the symbol after all, his note had read. Back in Daradon, I’d put importance on the phrasing: recognized rather than translated. While I’d let it convince me that there were answers in Ansora worth finding, it was a lead I hadn’t expected to be able to follow directly to its source. But now, Keil could actually introduce me to the someone who’d recognized the symbol. He could get me one step closer to understanding the compass, perhaps even before we reached Banarrat.

Yet even as new anticipation built inside me, I hesitated once more. Because accepting help with this lead meant drawing nearer to the one person who presented a greater danger to me than I wanted to admit.

I’d long ago resigned myself to the reality that the secret of my specter would forever prevent me from sharing intimacy with anyone. But then Keil had entered my life, opening himself up to me in way that had made me want to open up, too. It had been unexpected and unforced. The most wonderful surprise, and yet the most damning.

Because now I was being hunted by a king who wanted to marry me, use me, or torment me into both. And I knew, deep down, that if I continued to make myself as vulnerable as I had last night, when I’d risked my life for Keil . . . then Erik would succeed.

Painfully, I reached my conclusion: The closer I got to Keil, the more he would mean to me. And right now, I couldn’t afford to make myself that vulnerable for anyone.

Thankfully, the empress had given me the excuse to never do so again.

“I can’t risk Rheya withdrawing her promise of protection,” I said steadily, “nor can I risk her taking me off the mission to Banarrat. If Erik’s plans involve the island, I need to know why. And if that means playing by Rheya’s rules, then I will.”

This shall come to an end, Rheya had ordered, looking between us. The memory of those words now filled the carriage, producing a pained look in Keil’s eyes.

“This was the last time we sacrifice ourselves for each other,” I declared. “If you want to help me, you’ll treat me as you would treat any other ally.”

Keil’s gaze flicked to my mouth, bringing heat to my cheeks. “Is that what we are?” he murmured. “Allies?”

No, I wanted to say. And that’s precisely the problem.

But I would rather extinguish the flame between us now, while it was still flickering to life, than wait until the blaze consumed us both.

So I said, “It’s what you want us to be, isn’t it?”

He gave me a grimly amused look. We both knew it was not what he wanted.

But this was one rule I couldn’t risk breaking, so I didn’t retract the words.

Keil’s pause felt like a mournful moment of silence. Then he smoothed his expression and sat back, a slash of sunlight cutting across his jaw. “Very well, my lady,” he conceded with a soft, bittersweet smile. “Tell me what you need.”

9

He was whistling today, the sharp tune echoing against the stones.

With my manacled wrists sitting limply on my lap, I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he set the tray down to my right.

“My lady,” he said, a smile in his voice. He sat on my left, his jacket grazing my arm.