Kiva was in too much pain to argue about his damsel comment as Caldon carefully helped her to her feet, steadying her until she could hold her own weight.
“You good, Sunshine?” he asked, repeating the nickname he’d come up with during their time at the winter palace, a mockery of her less-than-sunny personality, he’d claimed.
“Good enough,” she said, having long since given up on asking him to call her by her actual name — especially when he’d responded that if she didn’t like Sunshine, then he could always call her Felon. She’d taken great delight in throwing a toss pillow into his laughing face.
When he’d shared the reason for her other nickname — Sweet Cheeks — she’d thrown something much heavier.
“I wish I could say we’ll take it slow, but I try to avoid lying to beautiful women,” Caldon said, supporting her with an arm around her waist as they moved toward the door, his other hand clenched around the hilt of his bloodied sword. “We need to get you back to the palace and send word to the others that you’re safe.”
“Wherearethe others?” Kiva asked as they entered the shabby hallway, the brighter lights making her wince.
“We had to split up,” Caldon said, toeing aside the body of a man he’d carved his way through to get to her. She glanced away quickly, partly to ward off memories of the last time she’d seen such violence — the bloodthirsty prison riot — and partly because the dead man had been ordered by Zuleeka to remain behind, giving his life for the rebel cause. Herfamily’scause.
“Your abductors were clever,” Caldon went on. “They laid a number of false trails, making it hard for us to pinpoint which direction they’d really taken you, especially amid the festival chaos. Jaren and Naari took the eastern side of the city, Captain Veris and a contingent of guards are covering the south and north, and I came west.” He sent her a cocky grin. “I’ve always been the better tracker. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“We’re not out of here yet,” Kiva said. Remembering the role she had to play, she added, “And it’d be nice to know why they took me to begin with.”
“They didn’t say anything?” Caldon asked dubiously as he pulled her into a large, high-ceilinged room that looked like it had once been a kitchen.
“I only woke up seconds before you came through the door,” Kiva said. It wasn’t a lie, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. She continued playing her part, asking, “You mentioned before that it was the rebels — what would they want with me?”
Caldon’s cobalt eyes flashed and his jaw tightened, but he relaxed it to say, “Your guess is as good as mine, Sweet Cheeks.” He reached across and tapped her nose with his sword hand. “But I think it’s safe to assume you’re just very tasty bait for a much larger fish.”
Kiva swatted at his arm, but he’d already moved it back to his side, his body tensing as he brought them to a quick halt. His gaze narrowed in the direction of the door at the far end of the kitchen, his attention on something beyond Kiva’s senses.
“What —”
Caldon shoved a hand over her mouth and pushed her behind a freestanding bench in the middle of the run-down room.
“Quiet,” he hissed, tugging her into a crouch. “We’ve got company.”
Zuleeka had said she was leaving a handful of people behind, but Kiva had assumed Caldon had already seen to those. Just how many more would have to fight — anddie— to make this ruse believable?
“Seems our luck has run out,” Caldon said, unsheathing a second sword for himself along with a sharp dagger, which he held out to Kiva. “Do you know how to use this?”
Kiva grasped the pommel awkwardly between her thumb and forefinger. “I, um ... maybe?”
Caldon muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like, “Gods spare me.”
“Believe it or not,” Kiva said defensively, “they didn’t teach us how to handle weaponsin prison.”
The prince huffed with amusement before a noise in the next room caused a rare seriousness to overtake his features.
Grabbing her hand, he repositioned her fingers around the hilt, closed them tightly, and whispered, “If things get heated, run and hide, and I’ll find you afterward. Only use this” — he indicated the blade — “if absolutely necessary. But whatever you do, don’t stab yourself. Jaren will kill me.” As an afterthought, he added, “Don’t stab me either, obviously.”
Kiva sent him a bland look and didn’t bother to confirm that she had no intention of stabbinganyone.
“By the sounds of it, there’s half a dozen of them waiting for us, maybe a few more,” he said, listening for something only he could hear.
“Can’t we go another way?” Kiva asked.
“They’ll have more people watching the back,” Caldon said. “The front door is right through this next room, which makes it our easiest path out.” He ruffled her hair. “Don’t worry, Sunshine. Half a dozen is nothing. I’ll keep you safe.”
Caldon might have been an incorrigible flirt, but something Kiva had learned in the last six weeks was that he wasn’t a spoiled prince who sat around playing courtier all day — even if, for reasons she’d yet to uncover, he made it so people believed that was true. His weapons weren’t for decoration; she’d seen him training with Jaren at the winter palace, the two of them sparring with lightning-fast speed, strength, and skill. Kiva believed Caldon when he said he would keep her safe, but it wasn’therlife she was worried about. Those were rebels he was about to fight a path through, all so she could keep up her ruse.
“Do me a favor and try not to puke again,” Caldon said, gripping his swords and rising from his crouch. “With you behind me, I’ll be right in your trajectory. You’ll ruin my outfit.”
His fitted green jacket was already speckled with blood, the silver embroidery now a rusty red, so she knew he was only speaking in an effort to keep her calm.