Page 45 of The Rook

“King Destin requests your presence at—”

“Yes, I shall meet him within the hour,” Tempest interrupted, a wooden smile on her face even though she wanted to punch something. It was not the servant’s fault that she was in a bad mood. People were not emotional punching bags. She swallowed down her bitterness and forced her tone toward something more polite. “I just need some time to bathe and change my clothes.”

The servant bobbed her head and quickly retreated, her hurried footsteps a sharp staccato. Tempest rolled her neck and opened the door, warm light spilling out onto the snow. A wave of heat hit her as she stepped inside, knocked the snow off her boots, and closed the door behind her. The laughter cut short, and she turned to face the room. TheHounds and trainees all stared at her. She gave a little wave and smiled.

“I’m back.”

Dima stood slowly from his bunk, followed by Maxim.

“You’re home,” Dima said with no inflection. That wasn’t a good sign. He was angry.

She shouldered off her backpack and set her bow gently against the wall, before unclasping her cloak and hanging it on a hook near the door. “Finally,” Tempest said lightly. “Seems like forever since I’ve been home.”

“You better get over here right now and hug me, girlie, before I lose my temper,” Maxim rumbled. Her shoulders sagged. He’d never lost his temper once with her growing up.

Maxim held his arms out, and she walked right into them. He squeezed her tightly against his chest and laid his head on the top of hers. For the first time in ages, she felt safe.Loved.“You have to stop leaving like that.”

Tempest nodded, her nose rubbing against his flannel shirt. “I’ll work on it.”

“You better,” Maxim muttered. “My poor ticker can’t handle the stress.”

He pulled back and released her to Dima. Her quiet uncle clasped both her cheeks and slowly studied her. “Who hurt you?”

“No one,” she said, her voice not wavering. You had to care about someone for them to hurt you.Lying to your uncles and yourself. A slippery slope.

His eyes narrowed. “You know I interrogate people for a living?”

She held his gaze resolutely. If she wavered one bit, he’d never let this go. “It was a long journey. I’m tired.”

Dima nodded and pulled her into a hug. “I’m letting this go for now,” he murmured, voice low in her ear. She forced herself to stay relaxed, even as her pulse picked up. “But we will come back to this.”

“It’s nothing,” Tempest argued.

He leaned back and ducked to catch her eye. “It’s not nothing. I can see the pain in your eyes.” His gaze hardened. “I will find out the truth.”

She chuckled and maneuvered herself out of his arms. “The truth is that I’m in need of a bath.” Tempest waved a hand at the bathing chamber. “Is it empty?”

“Go ahead,” Maxim said.

She nodded and strode toward the door next to the massive fireplace, whispering hellos to her fellow Hounds. She slipped into the bathing chamber and closed the door, leaning her back against the wood frame. Dima wasn’t going to leave it. She pushed away from the door and began stripping off her clothes. The brazier in the corner gave her enough light to slip into the pool in the middle of the room. Heat enveloped her as she sank into the water. Thank all that be for hot springs. Placing her arms on the edge of the pool, she pillowed her cheek on her forearms and closed her eyes. Nothing felt as good as this, but still, she couldn’t fully relax.

Time was ticking away, and the king expected her. How had her life become so tangled? From either direction, she had a sovereign trying to manipulate her. Well, if one could call Pyre—the Jester, Mal, whoever he was—a ruler. He seemed to think he controlled everyone around him. It still rankled her that she hadn’t seen the signs sooner. There were similarities if one looked close enough. But how was she to know? Shiftersweren’t supposed to have two human forms. It was unheard of—a legend, a myth.

Tempest pushed away from the side of the pool and grabbed the scented oil from the southern side, steam rising around her. It had been a gift from Maxim one year. She uncorked the bottle and poured a generous amount of soap into her hands and lathered her hair and scalp. Even in the Jester’s den of deceit, his tubs hadn’t compared to this. She moaned and then dunked her head, rinsing her wild locks.

Rising from the water, she fingered a wet strand of hair. Unbidden, a memory floated to the forefront of her mind. Mal’s hands threaded through her hair, insistently pulling her closer, his mouth slashing over hers, eyes heavy with desire, challenging her to give in. Tempest shuddered and then slapped a hand against the water. She had to stop this nonsense.

You feel nothing for him. You were lost in the moment. Heated emotions can lead to such things. It meant nothing. He means nothing to you.

Pyre was the Jester. He wasn’t a good man. She moved toward the stairs that led out of the pool. That was an understatement. ‘Not a good man’ was a shady slumlord, loan shark, or a merchant who hit his wife. The Jester was another kind of man entirely; he was the other side of the coin to King Destin. Corrupt, ruthless, and driven.Passionate.She ignored the last one as she climbed the stairs, water droplets dripping from her skin.

Tempest grabbed a towel and dried her face before running it over the rest of her body. She paused, blankly staring at the roaring fire. If Pyre was simply the same as King Destin, what did that make her? She had been willingly working with Pyre.Just how much of his evil behavior was she supposed to tolerate in the name of the people?

Protect the innocent. Deal with everything later.

She couldn’t change Pyre any more than he could change her.Is working with the Jester and the Dark Court the only way you can make a difference?Stars, she didn’t know. “Stop thinking about it. There is nothing you can do about it now,” she muttered to herself, wrapping the towel around her body to hide her important bits. Her abdomen cramped, and she winced as it began to ache.

Of all the times to begin her moontime. Life just wasn’t fair.

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