Page 192 of The Ashes and the Star-Cursed King

“Is that an attitude? You’ve been spending too much time with Oraya.”

No smile at that. No returning joke. She just said nothing.

Concern twisted in my stomach.

I held out my hand to help her up. “Let’s go.”

“Don’t you have work to do?”

“It can wait.”

I didn’t move my hand. Just stared at her.

Mische and I had been friends for a very, very long time. She knew when there was no point arguing with me.

She let out a sigh and took my hand.

* * *

“Jesmine saidthere are demons out here,” Mische said. “We shouldn’t go too far.”

Mische and I wandered through the more secluded paths in the cliffs, out of earshot of the camps. It was dark here, though not so dark our eyesight couldn’t make out what it needed to. Better yet, it was quiet.

I’d missed quiet.

Meanwhile, Mische seemed so uncomfortable she was practically trying to speed walk through our stroll.

I scoffed. “As if I believe you’re afraid of demons.”

“Why wouldn’t I be afraid of demons?”

“I don’t know, Mish. Maybe because you ran off and joined the Kejari like it was another day of the week.”

That sounded a lot more bitter than I intended it to. Thought I was at a point where I could joke about Mische’s actions. Guess not.

Maybe I wasn’t the only one, because instead of giving me some kind of smart-ass retort, she buried her hands in her pockets and kept walking.

“That was different,” she muttered.

It took me a second too long to understand what she meant. I kept pace beside her, my eyes slipping down—to the scars visible where her sleeve rode up.

My lips thinned. A wave of concern passing through me.

And with it, frustration.

“Mische.” I stopped and touched her shoulder. She stopped walking, but seemed reluctant to look at me.

“What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what?’ I’ve put up with you every day for fucking decades. Enough.”

“Enough of what?”

“You’ve been avoiding me since—”

“I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“Oraya told me about the prince.”

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