Page 54 of Daughter of No Worlds

I had so many questions — about the war, about his family, about the Queen’s father. But I’d spent enough time reading people and massaging my interactions with them to know that outright asking was not the best way to find out what I wanted to know. So I had obliged his unspoken request, sitting in silence, watching out the window bleary-eyed as the sun rose over the horizon. It wasn’t hard. I felt like I had been trampled by a few dozen horses.

We were halfway through breakfast when the front door abruptly swung open, revealing an unamused-looking Sammerin.

“I hear that you had a very exciting day yesterday,” he said, calmly, in place of a greeting.

Max grunted something wordless.

“You’re lucky to be alive.”

“Absolutely. So lucky.”

Sammerin gave him a cold, hard look — one of those looks shared between friends who knew each other well enough to speak silently.

Max shrugged.

“She’s a child,” Sammerin said. “You should have controlled yourself.”

At this, my mouth went sour, the image of the blood rolling down the steps overtaking my vision. “A child?” I said. My voice was raspy with exhaustion, like my headache was seeping into my throat. “Shekilledthat man.”

“That isn’t the first one, either.” Max scoffed. “Someone had to say something.”

“Very noble of you.” Sammerin let out a silent breath, invisible except for the lowering of his shoulders. “If Tare had given her any other sign, it would’ve been your body kicked down those stairs.”

Max laughed bitterly. “Good point. All those years ago, would you ever have thought Tare would be the one holding so many lives in his hands?Tare?” He shook his head. “Ascended above. What a time to be alive.”

“The Valtain with her?” I asked. Max had addressed him by name yesterday, too, I recalled. “You know him?”

“The Orders are incestuous,” he replied. “Everyone knows everyone, mostly because everyone has either screwed or screwed over everyone else. Sometimes both. Occasionally even at the same time.”

“In-ses-tu…?”

“It means…” His brow furrowed, then he shook his head. “Nevermind.”

Sammerin sighed. “Just tread carefully, Max. You won’t get chances like that again.”

Something softened in Max’s expression, just slightly. “I know.” Then he stood up, turning to me. “Are you ready?”

I blinked at him, trying to clear the cloud from my thoughts.

“You look like death. But you don’t think you get a break because of this, do you?”

I had assumed, judging by Max’s foul mood, that I’d be practicing on my own today. But this was a pleasant surprise. “If you can do it,” I said, “I can do it.”

A smirk glimmered at the corners of his eyes. “That’s what I like to hear.” Then, to Sammerin, “Excuse us, Sammerin. We have work to do. Besides, I’m sure that Moth is probably destroying something as we speak.”

“Probably so,” Sammerin muttered. His gaze went far away from a moment, as if imagining what he would go home to find.

Poor Moth. I hoped that they didn’t talk about me that way.

Sammerin turned to the door, then paused for a moment and looked back at Max. “What were you doing in the city to begin with?”

“Just picking up some things from Via.”

“And then you stayed? Some might dare call that out of character, Max.”

Max shrugged. “And paid a price for it. Lesson learned.”

“Hm,” Sammerin gave us one of those quiet, unreadable looks, and slipped out the door.

---