“I’m really fast.”

“You are very fast, Markel.” Ash’ren agreed in an impressed tone. “Keep practicing.”

The boy nodded and scurried away. I watched him go, my tummy flip-flopping at the random thought of having a rambunctious kid of my own, with Ash’ren’s corkscrew horns.

“Hello, Firefly.”

“Hello, suitor.”

Our noses brushed, the sliver of air between us charged with enough electricity to rival the lightning storms of Ashfall Alley’s volcanoes. The noise of the med tent fell away. Time slowed. Ash’ren’s hand approached my face, and I swore I could feel it before he touched me. He traced my jaw up to a tiny stray braid, which he settled behind my ear. So far from the inner rings, I didn’t fight my body’s natural impulse to arch into him.

I had thought that with the courtship announced, we would be free to touch and flirt in public. My mistake. I’d not waited the fortnight. Frick, I hadn’t even waited a full night! Filaris hadn’t mentioned it in her letters, but I knew she knew. Somehow, she knew, and the fact that she hadn’t dedicated a single line in any of her letters to a thoroughI told you someant she’d had no faith I’d keep my impulsiveness in check in the first place.

Ash’ren’s hand on my cheek curled into a fist, then retreated entirely. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and stepped back to pick up the mortar and pestle. Practically the entire healing staff was watching us and pretending they weren’t, while the former workers of Ring Seven openly stared.

“How was training?”

“Fine. Your people are strong.” He accepted the water I offered him. Before taking a deep drink, he muttered, “And stubborn.”

I smirked. “Perhaps that’s why I love them.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Well, you’re not stubborn at all, are you?”

“And you’re not a sarcastic little—”

“Your Majesty,” a woman cut in before Ash’ren could spit out his silly insult. “Another has been found.”

26

Searra

Icy dread trickled down my spine. Ash’ren’s brow furrowed, and I hurried to answer his silent question while packing up all the herbs and salves I’d been working on.

“Some of the phantom burns aren’t healing as they should. Others seemed to heal while on bed rest, but once they walk the dirt again, it returns tenfold.” My hands trembled. I lowered my voice, avoiding his eye contact. “I did this, Ash. I left them to suffer.”

Ash’ren took me by the wrists, yanking my hands up to his chest and forcing me to take a step closer. The scent of desert clove calmed my nerves. “You were a prisoner, too.”

I took a deep breath. I’d never seen myself that way. A pretty bird in a pretty cage that I’d been convinced was a palace.

“Your Majesty!”

I stole a chaste kiss before rushing to follow Nielara.

The wounded in question was the tattoo-covered man who’d rallied the workers to Ash’ren’s side. The prophet seemed like nothing bothered him, almost like he already knew how everything was going to go. Being in his presence was eerie and comforting at the same time.

The Faith Keeper beamed up at me from the med cot when I walked in. His feet peeked out from under a white blanket stained with red and black, as swollen as if he’d never gone through treatment. Some of the gauze was stuck deep, flesh searing through the porous fabric like it was a part of his body now.

The man laughed and I realized I’d been openly glowering at his wiggling toes. Oops! I rushed an apology and plastered on a smile, bouncing on my heels.

“Don’t fret, Queenie,” he said softly. I sent adon’t-even-think-about-itglance over my shoulder at Ash’ren, who smirked like he was already ignoring my request. “This body is a husk now. It has served my people for a long time.”

“Nonsense, Keeper,” Nielara chided. With bright red hair and the voice of an angel, I didn’t see how anyone could challenge her. “Your body is healthy yet, don’t feed the birds live food.”

“Perhaps they could peck off the rotten bits and you’ll be good as new,” I joked. Nielara blanched and Keeper barked a laugh that sent him into a fit of wheezes. I’d misspoken again. I smiled awkwardly. If I’d thought it difficult to make friends in the court, this was a whole new circus. One I was constantly blowing.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “Of course she’s right. Those fat birds can find something else to munch on.”