From blood and ash

He remained where he stood. “But you knew who I was,” he said, and that wasn’t a question.

“Of course.” I shifted my gaze to the fire. “Your arrival had already stirred up quite a bit of…talk.”

“Flattered,” he murmured.

My lips twitched as I watched the flames curl and ripple over the thick logs of wood. “Why I decided to stay in the room isn’t up for discussion.”

“I know why you stayed in the room,” he said.

“You do?”

“It makes sense now.”

I thought back to that night and remembered what he had said. He’d seemed to sense that I was there to experience, to live. Now that he knew what I was, it would make sense.

But that still wasn’t something I was willing to discuss. “What are you going to do about me being on the Rise?”

He didn’t answer for a long moment, and then he walked to where I sat, his long-legged prowl full of fluid grace. “May I?” He gestured to the empty seat.

I nodded.

Sitting across from me, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his bent knees. “It was Vikter who trained you, wasn’t it?”

My pulse skipped, but I kept my face blank.

“It had to be him. You two are close, and he’s been with you since you arrived in Masadonia.”

“You’ve been asking questions.”

“I’d be stupid not to learn everything I could about the person I’m duty-bound to die to protect.”

He had a very good point there. “I’m not going to answer your question.”

“Because you’re afraid I’ll go to the Duke, even though I didn’t before?”

“You said out on the Rise that you should,” I reminded him. “That it would make your job easier. I’m not going to bring anyone else down with me.”

He inclined his head. “I said I should, not that I would.”

“There’s a difference?”

“You should know there is.” His gaze flickered over my face. “What would His Grace do if I had gone to him?”

My fingers curled inward. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Then why did you say I had no idea what he’d do? You sounded as if you were going to say more but stopped yourself.”

I looked away, staring at the fire. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

Hawke was quiet for a long moment. “Both you and Tawny reacted strangely to his summons.”

“We weren’t expecting to hear from him.” The lie rolled off my tongue.

There was another pause. “Why were you in your room for almost two days after being summoned by him?”

Sharp, biting pain radiated from where my nails dug into my palms. The flames were dying, flickering softly.

“What did he do to you?” Hawke asked, his voice too soft.

Suffocating shame crept up my throat, tasting acidic. “Why do you even care?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, and again, he sounded unbelievably sincere.

My head turned before I realized what I was doing. He’d sat back, hands curled around the arms of the wingback chair. “You don’t know me—”

“I bet I know you better than most.”

Heat creeped into my cheeks. “That doesn’t mean you know me, Hawke. Not enough to care.”

“I know you’re not like the other members of the Court.”

“I’m not a member of the Court,” I pointed out.

“You’re the Maiden. You’re viewed as a child of the gods by the commoners. They see you higher than an Ascended, but I know you’re compassionate. That night at the Red Pearl, when we talked about death, you genuinely felt sympathy for any losses I’d experienced. It wasn’t a forced nicety.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m a good judge of people’s words,” he remarked. “You wouldn’t speak out of fear of being discovered until I referred to Tawny as your maid. You defended her at the risk of exposing yourself.” He paused. “And I saw you.”

“Saw what?”

He tipped forward again, lowering his voice. “I saw you during the City Council. You didn’t agree with the Duke and Duchess. I couldn’t see your face, but I could tell you were uncomfortable. You felt bad for that family.”

“So did Tawny.”

“No offense to your friend, but she looked half-asleep throughout most of that. I doubt she even knew what was going on.”

I couldn’t exactly argue that point, but what he had seen was me briefly losing control of my gift. However, that didn’t change the fact that I wasn’t okay with what was happening to the Tulis family.

“And you know how to fight—and fight well. Not only that, you’re obviously brave. There are many men—trained men— who wouldn’t go out on the Rise during a Craven attack if they didn’t have to. The Ascended could’ve gone out there, and they’d have a higher chance of surviving, yet they didn’t. You did.”

I shook my head. “Those things are just traits. They don’t mean you know me well enough to care about what does and doesn’t happen to me.”

His eyes fixed on mine. “Would you care what happens to me?”

“Well, yes.” My brows knitted in a frown. “I would—”

“But you don’t know me.”

I snapped my mouth shut. Dammit.

“You’re a decent person, Princess.” He sat back. “That’s why you care.”

“And you’re not a decent person?”

Hawke lowered his gaze. “I’m many things. Decent is rarely one of them.”

I had no idea how to respond to that little bit of honesty.

“You’re not going to tell me what the Duke did, are you?” He sighed, his back bowing slightly in the chair. “You know, I’ll find out one way or another.”

I almost laughed. I was confident that was one thing no one would ever speak about. “If you think so.”

“I know so,” he replied, and a heartbeat passed. “It’s weird, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

His gaze met mine again, and I felt a hitch in my chest. I couldn’t look away. I felt…ensnared. “How it feels like I’ve known you longer. You feel that, too.”

I wanted to deny it, but he was right, and it was weird. I said none of that because I didn’t want to acknowledge it. Doing so felt like a start down a road I couldn’t travel. Knowing that caused a deep, twisting sensation in my chest, and I didn’t want to acknowledge that either.

Because it felt a lot like disappointment. And didn’t that mean I’d already begun to travel that road? I broke eye contact, my gaze falling to my hands.

“Why were you on the Rise?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Wasn’t it obvious?”

“Your motivation wasn’t. At least, tell me that. Tell me what drove you to go up there to fight them.”

Easing open my fingers, I slipped two of them under the sleeve of my right arm. They skimmed my skin until the tips brushed over two jagged tears. There were others, along my stomach and my thighs.

It would be easy to lie, to come up with any number of reasons, but I wasn’t sure if there was any harm in the truth. Was three instead of two knowing the truth somehow earth-shattering? I didn’t think it was.

“The scar on my face. Do you know how I got it?”

“Your family was attacked by some Craven when you were a child,” he answered. “Vikter…”

“He filled you in?” A faint, tired smile pulled at my lips. “It’s not the only scar.” When he said nothing, I slipped my hand out from under my sleeve. “When I was six, my parents decided to leave the capital for Niel Valley. They wanted a much quieter life, or so I’m told. I don’t remember much from the trip other than my mother and father being incredibly tense throughout the whole thing. Ian and I were young and didn’t know a lot about the Craven, so we weren’t afraid of being out there or stopping at one of the smaller villages—a place I was told later hadn’t seen a Craven attack in decades. There was just a short wall, like most of the smaller towns, and we were staying at the i