Page 67 of A Rose Among Snakes

He arched his brow. “What do I have to gain by lying to you?”

“I’m not sure, but it seems too astonishing to be real.”

Enverro bristled and said, “Well, it is.”

A thread of guilt wove its way into my chest, so I offered, “Alright, my turn.”

“For what?”

“To tell you about my family.”

“Who said I wanted to hear your story? I make a point not to get to know my captives.”

I shook my hair out in what I knew used to be an alluring manner, but seeing as I hadn’t bathed in weeks, I wasn’t sure it had the same effect it did previously. “I’m going to tell you anyway.”

Enverro grunted as he worked to pull a rock out of the soil and I told him of my childhood being raised by a father who hated me after I caused my mother’s death, pushing through the tremor in my voice to deliver the story.

“Did he abuse you?” His words were sharp.

“No, not physically. He normally pretended I didn’t exist, but when he was drunk, he would berate me for things that weren’t my fault. I learned to stay out of his way, and Velian protected me as much as he could. I don’t know what I would have done if I didn’t have him, honestly.” The tremor took over as my throat closed and tears fell down my face.

“I’m sorry,” Enverro said. His eyes were soft and round, none of his usual derision present.

My knees wobbled and I fell to the ground. Enverro sprinted over, catching my head before I face-planted in the dirt.

“Kezara, what’s wrong?”

“I think I need some water,” I mumbled, my head spinning. Enverro unlocked the shackles around my ankles and scooped me up in his arms like I was nothing more than another basket of vegetables. Back inside, he laid me down on the cushions and went to fetch me a mug of water. He helped me sit up and held the mug to my lips, allowing me to take in tiny sips.

“I shouldn’t have let you go outside. You’re too weak, you don’t eat enough.”

“Whose fault is that?” I smirked at him above the rim of the mug.

Enverro scowled. “Actually, the king requests that I keep captives hungry—keep them weak.”

That hadn’t occurred to me. I had never assumed there was a strategy behind the meager portions, simply that there were limited resources.

“Honestly, I give you more than I’m supposed to,” he said.

“Why?”

He tilted his head to the side and held my gaze. “I’m not a monster. Sometimes I feel like I’m a prisoner just as much as you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t say no or refuse the king. If I do, he’ll kill me.”

I nodded slowly, understanding. He was trapped, too. My heart ached for him; a young boy who had buried his family and was left to fend for himself, caught in a web of politics and intimidation, just as I was. My pulse was thrumming in my throat, and despite all logic, I felt sorry for him. It was more than sympathy though, and before it went any further I had to know the answer to something that had been bothering me for weeks.

“Can I ask you another question?”

“Perhaps,” he said, a corner of his mouth pulling tight.

“When I first got here, you said you don’t deal with dead bodies… was that because of your family?”

He sat with his back to the bars of the cell, staring at the wall behind my head. “It was the first job the king had for me. I brought a man back here. I don’t know what he was guilty of, but it had something to do with double-crossing the king. I kept him here for a couple of days when the king suddenly showed up. He walked right in and stabbed him. He then made me load the body up into a wheelbarrow and dump him into a ravine.” He bit his lip, his gaze unfocused.

“It reminded me too much of my family’s deaths, and I told the king I didn’t want any part of that. He agreed to it, but that’s also when he told me to take a lesson from the man because he would do the same to me if I ever turned my back on him.”

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