Page 57 of The Traitor Queen (The Bridge Kingdom 2)

Instead of heedingher own advice, Lara left Aren asleep on one of the beds, unable to resist further exploration of the place that had once been both prison and home.

Her legs carried her through the dormitories, moving from room to room until she reached the one she’d shared with Sarhina, which was largely untouched. Barely big enough for the two narrow cots it contained, it was devoid of any personal touches, for such things had always been forbidden to her and her sisters. The small chest of drawers was marked with soot, but opening it revealed the clothing she’d worn during her time here.

Pulling off her ruined dress, she inspected her injuries as best she could, her eyes still streaming tears. She pulled on clean undergarments, trousers, a linen shirt, and a coat, then braided her hair, feeling more human than she had since the night she’d rescued Aren.

Dropping to her knees, she lifted the loose stone beneath her bed, revealing the tiny hole where she’d hid her wooden box of childish treasures. She sat on the bed with the box in her lap and lifted out the contents one by one.

A bracelet Bronwyn had woven for her out of leather, which she slipped onto her wrist.

A shiny silver coin Sarhina had found and given her, the face worn beyond identification, which she tucked into her pocket.

Scraps of paper with notes complaining about their masters, which her sisters had written and passed among each other.

Those she flipped through, smiling at some, her heart breaking at others, for many of her masters had been cruel in their tutelage. Serin’s name was notably absent, none of the girls brave enough to write anything critical about him. He’d always been too good at ferreting them out.

Setting the package aside, she reached back into the box and pushed aside a vial in favor of a silver necklace with a sapphire pendant dangling from it. It was sized for a child, too small to fit around her neck now, but she still held it to her throat, tears that had nothing to do with sand welling in her eyes at the feel of it.

Her mother had given it to her. Lara had only a few memories of the woman, but one of them had been of her fastening this necklace around Lara’s neck. She’d been wearing it when her father’s soldiers had taken her, and she’d hidden it all these years, her most cherished possession. Proof that at one point, she’d been loved.

And the mother who’d loved her had died for it.

A sob tore from her throat, and she doubled over, shoulders shaking.

“You all right?”

The cot across from her creaked, and she looked up to find Aren sitting on it, elbows resting on his knees as he regarded her.

“My mother gave it to me,” she said, holding it up. “It’s the only thing I have left of her.”

“I’m glad you had the chance to retrieve it.”

Rubbing her thumb across the stone, Lara nodded. “I was wearing your mother’s necklace the night . . .” She trailed off, giving her head a shake. “It was how I got back. I traced the stones on a piece of paper and used it for a map.”

“Clever.”

“I assumed you’d want it back, so I left it in Eranahl.”

He didn’t answer, only stared at the ground between them. “When I looked for you, I found the room where Serin kept his . . .implements.”

She stiffened, knowing exactly what Aren meant. Serin considered torture an art form to be perfected, and courtesy of histraining,she’d been on both the receiving and delivering end of the implements.

“Serin couldn’t physically harm me, so he made me watch while he tortured the Ithicanians he caught. When he wasn’t asking damnable questions about how to breach Eranahl’s defenses, he’d talk about the things he’d done to you and your sisters. And the things he’d had you do to each other.”

Lara felt the blood drain from her face, and she looked away. “We twelve weren’t the only girls brought to the compound. There were twenty of us. Two died from illness. Four were killed in combat training, and one in an accident. But one . . . Her name was Alina, and she refused to play Serin’s games. Refused over and over again. Then one night, she went missing.” Lara swallowed hard. “I don’t think she escaped.”

Aren nodded slowly. “He especially liked to tell me what he intended to do to you, when you were caught. Would trick me into believing they had you. And I was terrified because I knew if they ever succeeded, I’d tell them anything they wanted to know.”

A dull ache formed in Lara’s stomach. For the pain Aren endured, and also because Serin had been able to use her against him. “He’ll get what’s coming to him one of these days, I promise you.”

“I’m not sure that will change anything.”

Needing to cut the tension, she asked, “What’s my brother like?”

Aren huffed out a breath. “He’s bloody awful. I can’t stand him.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion on him. I asked what he was like.”

“He’s a scheming smartass and quite taken with his own intelligence.”

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