Page 18 of The Traitor Queen (The Bridge Kingdom 2)

Only moments after, the door opened again and Jor came inside, Lia at his heels. Both were disguised in Maridrinian clothes, their only weapons the marriage knives Lia wore at her waist, though Lara knew they’d have others.

“Not the slightest bit demonic,” Sarhina said between mouthfuls of soup. “I’m disappointed.”

Lara shot her a warning look, then sat back in her chair, meeting Jor’s dark gaze.

“Well now,” he said, taking a seat. “Weeks of waiting for you to bring us reinforcements and you deliver us”—he looked Sarhina up and down—“a pregnant girl with a healthy appetite.”

“Spoons are remarkably formidable weapons when wielded by adept hands.” Sarhina slurped soup off her spoon and gave him a bright smile before digging back into her food.

Jor ignored her, fixing Lara with a glare. “Well?”

“It’s taking longer to gather my sisters than I anticipated. They weren’t all in one place.” Never mind that she wasn’t sure if they were coming at all.

“Always an excuse.” Lia pulled out one of her knives and set it on the table, the edge razor-sharp. Sarhina picked it up and used it to slice her roll in half, though Lia snatched it back when she started using it to butter the bread.

Lara had known this would be a contest of wills, but she hadn’t expected it to start so soon. “The delay can’t be helped.” Leaning forward, she asked, “Is there any news? Has anyone seen him? Do you know if he’s all right?”

“We know he’s alive.”

Alive.Lara exhaled a long breath, tension seeping out of her shoulders.Aliveshe could work with.Alivemeant he could be saved. “And Eranahl?”

Jor gave the slightest shake of his head. “Storms have been violent. No breaks. No updates.”

And no chance for boats to get on the water to catch fish, which meant the city would be running on provisions alone. Lara gritted her teeth, but there was nothing she could do about that problem.

“Gorrick’s dead.”

Lia’s voice was bitter and cutting, and Lara flinched. The two had been lovers as long as she’d known them, and Aren had often speculated that it was only a matter of time until they wed. Not every casualty of war was a corpse. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not interested in your apologies. The only reason I haven’t cut your throat is that the honor belongs to Ahnna.”

Sarhina shifted, and Lara knew she was reaching for a weapon. She stomped on her sister’s toe.

“He and Aren grew up together, you know.” Lia’s voice sounded strange. Stifled. “Gorrick couldn’t stand the fact that Aren was imprisoned while he was free. Got tired of waiting on you and decided to go it alone.” Her jaw trembled. “If I’d known waiting for you would be such a waste of time, I’d have gone with him. And maybe he’d still be alive.”

“More likely the Rat King would have had two corpses to taunt Aren with,” Jor snapped. “If you can’t handle this, step outside.”

“I’m fine.”

Lara barely heard the woman’s retort, her eyes fixing on a gouge in the wooden table, blood roaring in her ears. Aren was inured to the casualties of battle, but this? Having his people’s corpses shoved in his face and knowing they’d died trying to save him? The guilt would destroy him. “I told you to stop with the rescue attempts. You’re going to push him over the edge.”

“Better for us to do nothing, is it?” Lia snapped. “Or is that all part of your plan,Your Grace? To distract us with promises until it’s too late to do anything at all?”

Lara’s skull throbbed, and she rubbed her temples, attempting to drive away the visions flowing through her mind of Aren taking his own life in a desperate attempt to keep any more of his people from dying. He was no coward. If he thought there was no other way, he’d do it. “We need to get him out.”

“Where are your sisters?” Jor demanded. “How much longer until they get here?”

“I don’t know.” She should’ve tried to get him out herself.Alivewasn’t good enough. To save Ithicana, Aren needed to be strong. Unbroken. “They’ll come.”

They had to come.

“This is a waste of time. I’m going.” Lia rose, turning as she did.

Only to find herself face-to-face with Athena.

Known to her sisters asthe wraith,Athena had hair the color of ash, her ghostly white skin courtesy of a mother from somewhere north of Harendell. She could move through an open space in full daylight without the sun noticing her enough to cast a shadow. As she had just proven.

“Where the hell did you come from?” Jor demanded, rising to his feet. Only to find Cresta and Shae flanking him, hands resting casually on their hips. Behind them, Brenna and Tabitha were sitting on the bar, smiles plastered on their faces. “What sort of devilry is this?”

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