Page 124 of A War Apart

I looked up. The sky was nearly dark. Odd. I hadn’t noticed the time passing. I staggered back toward camp, directed by the pressure of Izolda’s hand on my arm. What was she saying? I couldn’t understand the words. I took another step, and the ground came up to meet me.

Then I was being lifted up. Someone had strong arms around me. Alexey? No, Alexey was in a cell. “Han?” I struggled to open my eyes.

“Sorry, Mila. Just me.”

That voice was familiar. Who was it? “Yasha?”

He laughed, the sound vibrating against my cheek. “I hope so. Who’s Alexey?”

A friend,I wanted to tell him. My tongue was too thick. I leaned into his chest and let sleep drag me under.

Chapter forty-three

Disinheritance

Han

Istared down at my wife in the dim morning light. Her breathing was deep and even, her face peaceful in sleep.

I’d been so worried.

When she hadn’t been in the tent on my return, I’d gone to the med tent, sure that she would be with Yakov. He might not have made her stay in our tent, but he wouldn’t have let her wander off.

Neither Mila or Yakov had been in the med tent, though. Lada had sent Mila to get some rest over an hour before my arrival, and I had just missed seeing Yakov leave.

In a near-panic, I’d gone back to my tent to pace and think of where she could be. Nothing had come to mind; she knew next to no one in the camp, and the battle was over, so she hadn’t been caught up in the fighting.

It hadn’t been long—though it felt like ages—before Yakov strode in, depositing an unconscious Mila on the cot.

She’d been with Izolda, her friend from court who’d helped her escape from the palace dungeons. Yakov had come across Mila and Izolda on the edge of camp, Mila barely conscious and her friend half-dragging her along. She’d said three things. “Alexey,” “Han,” and “Yasha.”

I’d managed to move her, still sleeping, to the palace. Nearly a mile riding in the small cart I’d found, and she hadn’t budged. Now she lay in the middle of the large bed, untroubled in sleep, as though she hadn’t ripped my heart from her chest when she went missing.

I propped myself up on an elbow and frowned down at her sleeping form. What had she been doing outside of camp? I’d told her to stay where I left her, and not only had she disobeyed by spending the entire day working in the med tent, she’d disappeared after Lada sent her back to me. My blood heated. How dare she put herself at risk like that? Hadn’t she seen enough danger for a lifetime?

She stirred, and I reached out a hand to her. She opened her eyes, blinking blearily.

“Prophet’s balls,” she swore. “I feel like I’ve been run over by a horse. What time is it?”

“Well past dawn.”

“And you’re still in bed?” She feigned a look of shock. Then she looked around, taking in our surroundings. “We’re in the palace?”

“Yes, when my wife goes missing after a battle and is deposited unconscious on my bed an hour later, it tends to put me off my schedule.” I scowled at her.

“I wasn’t missing.”

“You weren’t in our tent, and you weren’t at the med tent. Yakov found you half-conscious on the edge of camp. What was I supposed to think?”

“Oh.” She chewed her lip, avoiding my eye.

“What were you thinking, Mila?” I sighed, taking her hand. “I was terrified something had happened to you.”

“I was perfectly fine. The battle was over, and I was with Izolda the whole time. She had a friend from court who was captured in battle. She wanted to go see him.”

“And after only getting a couple hours of sleep and working from dawn to dusk, you had to join her, I suppose.” She had no concept of self-preservation. “I swear, Mila, you’re going to be the death of me. Did you even eat yesterday?”

The guilty look on her face was answer enough. Thankfully, I’d had the foresight to find some food. I reached for the tray on the bedside table. She gave me a grateful smile and tucked into the bread and cheese.

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