Page 83 of Heirs of the Cursed

“Let’s leave the flowers and the secret admirers alone. I want you to tell me everything.”

Caeli spent an hour talking about the interrogations that took place near the forest, where the king’s soldiers had set up their small camp, far from the sight of the most curious. She told her that they hadn’t been as aggressive as she’d expected, but still intimidating. They were desperate for answers, just as she’d imagined.

Darcia, however, kept her own interrogation to herself.

At least for now.

Half an hour later, Caeli fell asleep. Darcia hugged her while stroking her hair and playing with her braided bracelet. They had always felt safe sleeping next to each other, as if they were experts at chasing away each other’s nightmares.

Darcia’s eyelids soon grew heavy as well, but her gaze remained fixed on the red tulips on the tiny, wooden table. With the pleasant feeling that someone was looking after her and seeing her for who she really was, she let sleep win over her.

24

Pixies’ Forest

Naithea panted as she rose to her feet, her body aching. Even days after the commander of the Royal Army had agreed to trainher, she was still getting used to the arduous effort it took to raise her weapons, attack her opponent, and take the blows.

In the evenings, Ward paid with a bag of gold vramnias to enjoy her mere company. They locked themselves in the most luxurious room of the brothel to do nothing but talk, until Naithea finally fell asleep and Ward watched her in a similar chair in which he’d spent that first night. And with each minute, hour and day they spent together, she felt that the Commander of Death was being honest with her about his feelings.

She knew it was wrong, but she trusted him.

Despite his reputation.

Despite his image.

Despiteeverythinghe stood for.

Naithea raised an eyebrow in the commander’s direction at the exact moment she disarmed Leonel. Her confident expression hid her own surprise, since it was the first time she’d managed to disarm the soldier in a maneuver that hadn’t nearly cut her hand. And even so, she couldn’t help but feel at ease, as if she’d been born for it: to be a warrior, to wipe out her enemies and bring them down to her feet, so that, repentant, they would kneel in surrender.

The only reason Naithea was allowed to stay was because of a deceptive agreement. The commander had assured Madame Dimond that he needed her connections with the young women from Bellmare to help them find the lost princesses. Her mistress had agreed at the sight of the three bags filled with gold vramnias.

Ward looked with pride at her accomplishment. His eyes lingered on Naithea, even though Soldier Pyre was trying to get his attention, probably telling him about the developments in their investigation.

The soldiers had been paying special attention to the most bustling areas of the city, scouring every street. From what he’dtold her, the only thing they’d found were Two Bloods—men and women too old to be Amira and Meissa Boreaalinen, who had been locked in the dungeons to be extensively interrogated day and night.

When he accompanied Naithea back to the brothel, Ward often stopped in the library to inquire about the protective wards behind which the princesses might be hiding. But once again, his search had been unsuccessful.

Naithea could feel the frustration in her own chest. She could see it now as Ward nodded silently, a serious expression on his face, and walked away from the ring to attend what appeared to be an urgent matter.

“You’re getting better, princess,” Eames Cranner acknowledged, leaning against a tree trunk. “Gaining strength.”

Naithea grinned. “I feel stronger.”

“There’s still a lot of work to do. Those arms won’t build muscle if you don’t lift weight,” he reminded her.

“My arms are fine as they are, thank you.”

Eames lifted an eyebrow. “It’s still heavy, isn’t it?”

“Shut up.”

“Well done.” Leonel raised his arms to clap hands with her. “Next time aim lower.”

“At your manhood?” she asked teasingly.

“Only when it’s Eames’.”

“I know where to aim if I want to kill someone, Leo,” she reminded him. “Throat, heart . . . It doesn’t seem to be difficult.”

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