Page 67 of Deadwood
“About two hours,” Raiden reported. “Saw her following him into the desert.”
I silently cursed. If she was lost out there, the sandwalkers would snatch her up easily once night fell.
Though Auria was none of our business, my commander, my advisor, and my friend all felt it necessary to keep an eye on her for some fucking reason. From the second she’d set foot in Deadwood, they monitored her from afar. Many pretended to be blind to the fact that King Tenere kept his daughter locked in that castle day in and day out, never letting her step foot outside the walls, but we knew. With my brief stay in Amosite, I found the only time she was allowed outside the castle walls was to see a girl in the gardens, who I assumed was her only friend.
With the knowledge of Auria’s past, Siara obviously felt remorse for her, and with the limited friendly female population in Deadwood, I was sure she thought she might make a friend out of her. But her and her group’s presence in this town was temporary, and I didn’t need my friends growing attached. I especially didn’t need her father putting a target on us.
“Do you think he killed her?” Siara asked, her breath fogging up the window.
Raiden’s jaw ticked, his instincts to find a threat and diminish it fighting to take charge.
“Being a king’s sheltered son, he seemed far too casual to have just killed a woman, let alone King Tenere’s daughter,” Raiden said. I was sure he’d watched every movement Paxon made when he returned alone, too.
With King Tenere keeping Auria locked up the entirety of her life, it was no secret there had to be a better reason for that choice than to simply keep her safe from the world. Raiden, Flynt, and Siara didn’t seem to have a clue as to why, but I had an idea.
“What should we do?” Flynt questioned.
“It’s not up to us what he does with her,” I answered, though it was clearly a lie. Questions bounded around my mind like a stampede of horses through the meadows. Where was she? And why hadn’t she returned with him?
Siara’s head whipped toward me, her long hair catching on her shoulder. “So you’re fine with her being out in this storm, possibly hurt?”
I didn’t mention that she was hurt to begin with.
My teeth ground together as I stared at her. “They were careless enough to go out in the storm in the first place. I warned them to stay sheltered, and they refused to listen. After that, it’s not up to me what happens.”
Flynt sighed, shaking his head as he eyed his boots.
“Got something on your mind, Flynt?” I asked. Disappointment rolled off the three of them like salt off the ocean breeze, and I nearly hated it. The problem was that I did care about what happened to Auria, I just didn’t have the right to show it. She wasn’t mine to protect, let alone worry about. I had people to look out for.
He confidently met my gaze from across the room. “Just curious why you don’t give a shit.”
Oh, if only they knew.
Raiden was back to being quiet as usual, watching as the tension escalated. He informed me of things I needed to know, and it typically ended with that. He was the leader of Deadwood’s army, and he took his role seriously.
I slowly got to my feet, keeping my gaze pinned on Flynt. “I do not protect Amosite or Torbernite. I look out for Deadwood, and Deadwood only.”
“Because you care,” Siara said from where she’d returned to staring out the window.
“Because it’s my job,” I corrected. If I got distracted with what everyone else was doing in their grand castles, we’d never stay on the objective.
Flynt pushed off the wall. “You can do your job and still have a heart, Bowen.”
I shook my head only to alleviate the ache settling into my jaw with how tightly it was clenched. He was wrong. I’d lost that organ a long time ago.
“There she is!” Siara whisper-shouted, pointing out the window.
Flynt gave me one last glance before coming up beside Siara, following her finger. I wanted to look, to make sure Auria was okay, but I kept myself grounded.
No distractions.
Even Raiden sidled up beside them, which just pushed the point home. I was being an ass.
“I’m going to talk to her,” Siara said, pushing away from the window to grab her coat off the hook beside the door.
“Siara,” I said gruffly.
She looked at me as she untucked her hair from the jacket and tugged her hood on. “What?”
