Page 32 of Captive of the Stolen Empire

“R-right away,” a blonde woman replied before pulling a length of rope from the pouch at her waist.

I gave barely a passing glance to the three struggling to regain their composure. One’s begging only hardened me against him. Had he stopped when Ilya asked?No.Another still whimpered in a pool of his own making, praying to The Four. They couldn’t save him. Not now.

Ilya still hadn’t spoken, her wide eyes taking in the scene.

“Can you stand?” I softened out the edges of my voice. Calm. Controlled.

She swallowed thickly as I held out a hand to her. I had half a mind to pick her up and carry her away, but I had a feeling the fiery woman wouldn’t want that. She could stand on her own two feet.

A barely imperceptible nod of her head confirmed my decision as she took my hand, her delicate fingers smeared with blood from the wound on her head.

“Elin…” she mumbled, voice thick. Heavy breaths showed the fear she hid from her eyes.

“Warren is with her. He’ll see to her safety.” I grazed her face, avoiding the bloody wound. “We should see about this.”

She was alert and not too badly injured from what I could see, though all her focus was still on her friend, the one she’d protected. The anger simmering through my blood slowed.

Guards swarmed the halls. Too late. I’d have to increase their training, remind them of the rules. Ilya didn’t speak as we traversed the torch-lit halls, nor when we finally reached my quarters.

“Lady Ilya.” The guards at the doors gaped at her wound.

“Have breakfast brought to the room tomorrow, and any other meals if Lady Ilya chooses,” I said. “She’s had a trying night.”

“Of course,” they echoed in unison.

“Should we alert—”

“No.” I didn’t want more rumors swirling around Ilya. “I’ve seen to it and will handle the rest in the morning.”

The men nodded, but it was Ilya their eyes clung to.

Pale, bluish streaks of moonlight crept across the floor of my sitting room, shifting like snakes on the ground until they touched puddles of lamplight, which ate them up. A stiff breeze ruffled the heavy drapes on either side of the balcony and caused the flames illuminating the room to wave and dance. The crispness of the cool air invaded the room—a fitting tribute to the change of seasons.

“Have a seat,” I said. “I’ll be back with something for your face.”

I kept a jar of healing salve in my room so that I could avoid the infirmary. Having a healer tend to the rare, odd wound would require the removal of my armor. It was an unnecessary risk when we could attend ourselves or rely on Captain Gaius’s blessing of Soliel to heal serious concerns.

“Should I just come with you? It would be faster.” Ilya glanced away as if embarrassed. A thin trail of blood ran down her cheek. Another few drops marred the shoulder of her dress. I bore her blood too, a smear across my gauntlets. My fist tightened.

Could I trust her? Let her into the privacy of my chambers? My attention shifted between her and the door. I wanted to, more than I ever should. It was my fault she’d been set upon in the hallway. I’d told my guards to hold off, to let her come back on her own. A test of sorts. I needed to see if she’d obey orders when she wasn’t watched. The thought that she’d run into trouble never crossed my mind.

But I still didn’t know where her loyalties lay. What would she have done tonight if she thought herself unsupervised? Each warm thought I had toward her left me with a twinge of guilt. Emperor Ryszard would disapprove. He certainly wouldn’t want her to linger in my bedroom.

“Wait here,” I said before I could change my mind.

I couldn’t miss the disappointment that pulled her lips into a small pout. Because she wanted to come with me? Or something else?

You conquered her city. You know what she thinks of you.

I spared her one last glance before my thoughts chased me up the stairs.

Chapter15

Ilya

Alone in the room, the throbbing in my face increased, making itself known anew. I was lucky that Lucien and Warren appeared when they did. If they hadn’t, this might have been the first of many wounds—to my body and my soul.

Twice now, Lucien had saved me from a horrible fate. My enemy. Perhaps an ally?

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