Page 113 of The Traitor Queen (The Bridge Kingdom 2)

The first thingshe noticed was the scent of Ithicana in the air. Of sea and storm and jungle.

The second was pain.

Wincing, she pried open her eyelids, the brightness causing her to blink back tears. She was in the bedroom she and Aren once shared in Eranahl, the water filling the bathing pool making a soft tinkling sound, the jars of glowing algae casting soft shadows on the wall.

And Aren, his head resting on one arm, was sleeping in the chair next to the bed.

Lara ran her gaze over his face, noticing the shadows beneath his eyes and the stitches holding together a wound on his temple. His knuckles were scraped and scabbed, his bare forearm marked with purple bruises. But he was alive.

And so was she.

Shifting, Lara failed to stifle a groan as pain lanced through her, and Aren jerked upright. “You’re awake.”

“How long was I asleep?” Her tongue felt as dry as sand, and she eagerly accepted the cup of water he held to her lips, not caring as it spilled down her chin while she drank.

“Three days.” He set the cup aside, leaning over her, his eyes searching. “They tell me it’s a bloody miracle you’re alive given your injuries and—” He broke off, his face tightening.

“And the fact that I drowned?”

“Yes.” His hazel eyes gleamed with unspent tears as they met hers. “You were dead. Dead in my arms, and I . . . I . . .” He rubbed a hand across his face, shaking his head.

“I heard you call my name,” she whispered. “I heard you order me to fight.”

“First damned time you ever listened.”

She smiled, but sadness swelled in her chest. “Don’t get used to it.”

All of it was hazy. The battle. The moments in the tunnel with the portcullis between them. But she remembered. Remembered him telling her that he loved her. That he needed her. That he wouldn’t let her go.

But those had been words spoken in the heat of the moment, when they’d both thought death was upon them. When anything seemed possible as long as they survived.

Now they both had to face reality.

She was the traitor queen. The reason Ithicana had lost the bridge. The reason hundreds, if not thousands, of Ithicanians had perished. That she’d been integral to their liberation meant little—some things were unforgivable.

“Is the war over?” she asked. “Do you have the bridge?”

Aren nodded. “The storm only lasted half a day, but it drove off both the Amaridian and Maridrinian fleets. With your father dead, they appear to have chosen to return to their respective ports. The soldiers remaining on our shores have been for the most part surrendering, and we’ll allow them to depart at Southwatch. We’ll do the same for the prisoners here once we’re able to transport them.”

“Aren’t you concerned?” she asked, feeling trepidation bite at her core. “You’re handing Maridrina back its army before you’ve fully regained control.”

“Despite his betrayal, Keris is not your father. And we both know his mind is all for the conflict with Valcotta. And for Zarrah. With the calm over, the storms will do their duty and keep Ithicana safe while we get our feet beneath us. Already the people are clamoring to get home. To rebuild. Once we’re sure the islands are clear, we’ll start moving them back.”

Lara’s chest tightened, but she might as well get it over with. “As soon as I’m well enough to walk, I’ll leave.” Although where she’d go, she wasn’t certain. First to find Sarhina. And then . . .

Her future was open and limitless, but it only felt empty.

Aren was silent for a moment. “If that’s your decision, I won’t stop you.”

“Decision implies a choice, Aren. And in this there is no choice. I’m not wanted here.”

He hesitated, his Adam's apple moving as he swallowed once. Twice. “I want you here, if you’re willing to stay. If youwantto stay.”

Closing her eyes, Lara took a deep breath, wincing against the ache in her ribs.

It would’ve been easier if he’d told her to go. But now she’d have to do it knowing he still cared. She’d have to leave knowing that there was still a chance for them, if she was selfish enough to take it. “Ithicana needs you, Aren. It needs its king.”

“And its queen.” Leaning back in his chair, he pulled something from his pocket, and she recognized it as his mother’s necklace. Gold and emeralds and black diamonds mapping Ithicana. She’d left it here for safekeeping, never expecting to wear it again. “Do you know how we try traitors in Ithicana?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts.

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