Page 169 of The Jasad Crown

He gestured at the spots he’d marked. “Not nearly sufficient for what we are attempting. I could draw better maps from scratch.”

We.I beamed. Not even Marek’s giant eye roll could ruin the effect that one word had on me.

Arin raised a palm before Lateef could speak, anticipating the elder’s indignance. “I do not mean it as a slight. In fact, you should consider it a compliment. I had maps much more sophisticated than these, and yet I continuously failed to capture you.”

“Hmm.” Appeased, Lateef reclined in his chair once more, legs crossed and a bowl of yellow tirmis in his lap. He squeezed a slice of lemon over the beans. “I’ll consider it as such, then.”

Arin had crossed out three of the major routes we had originally planned to take to Jasad. “Without Orban’s protection, these roads will be compromised at every major juncture.”

“What about Tareek il Hadi?” I tapped the sliver of road at the hills of the Blood Summit, its path cutting across Orban, the south of Lukub, and winding through Essam to Jasad. “My grandparents took this when we rode for the Summit.”

“Your grandparents also took a retinue of trained Jasadi soldiers. Tareek il Hadi hasn’t been safe for anyone since 1500 A.E. It is saturated in old magic.”

“Then it is only fresh magic you prefer to siphon?” Efra asked, leaning against the other wall.

Gold and silver flicked into my eyes.

Under the table, Arin stamped on my foot. Hard.

I yanked my incensed glare away from Efra. Arin pointedly lowered his gaze to the veins glowing over my skin, pulsing in tune to my heart.

Arin’s ability to see the veins could not be more inconvenient. The one person capable of speaking reason to my rage, even when I did not want to be reasoned with.

“As I was saying,” Arin continued, as though he hadn’t just saved Efra from an evening coughing up his fingernails, “Tareek il Hadi is not ideal, but it may be the only choice. None of the kingdoms can spare the resources to send more than a handful of soldiers to patrol it.”

“Thank you for the insight, Your Highness.” With a stern glance at Efra, Lateef dropped another translucent tirmis peel onto the pileby his foot. “We can reconvene tomorrow and finalize a course of action. It has been a long day, and any further work we put forth tonight will not be our best.”

As soon as the dismissal left Lateef’s mouth, everyone stampeded for the doors. Marek grabbed Jeru’s arm and dragged him from the room, muttering some joke about Heirs being left to their affairs.

Lateef stood slowly, working a piece of tirmis between his teeth. The bean shot out and hit Namsa square in the forehead. “Off you go,” he told her, passing over the bowl.

She wiped her forehead with a scowl. “You could have used your words.”

“I did,” he said. “The second time, I use my tirmis.”

She stomped out, leaving me, Lateef, and Arin by the table.

Lateef’s air of geniality vanished as soon as Namsa did. “Essiya, are youtryingto discredit yourself?”

I balked. “What?”

Lateef rubbed his forehead. “I forget you are a mere twenty and one. And you”—he waved at Arin—“twenty and six. The fate of our future rests on the shoulders of children.” Lateef sighed. “Broken and brave children.”

Arin and I slid each other glances, mutually baffled.

“You must exercise greater care when you interact with each other,” Lateef said. “Do not make it impossible to ignore what is already glaringly obvious.”

I crossed my arms. “I do not interact with the Heir any differently than the others do. If you mean they will think I am too friendly, that I should be calling him Silver Serpent or sauntering around like Efra—”

“Friendly? Awaleen below, I would give my left leg for friendly. I would even accept affectionate. Essiya, it is impossible to watch you two and not recognize how deeply in love you are.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

ESSIYA

Oh no.

Heat flushed through my body, reducing my caustic remark to a crisp. I became viscerally aware of Arin’s proximity.

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