Page 121 of Esperance

She decided not to mention the necklace to Carver. Not because she felt guilty for taking it—though she sort of did—but mostly because she couldn’t exactly explain that shefeltsomething from an inanimate object. That could lead to questions about her empathic ability, and after the warning she’d given in the jungle about their attackers, she shouldn’t give him anything else he could hang her with.

She told him of how she’d left the cave, only to be stalked through the jungle until Ford had saved her from her would-be killers. She then explained how they’d eventually found Ivan—or rather, how he’d stumbled across them.

“Then we waited for the worst of the storm to pass and made it the rest of the way down the mountain. Ford left us just outside the camp. He said he was going to meet up with his patrol, but I don’t think Ivan believed him about being an Esperance guard.” She tilted her head as she eyed him. “So, I assume Ford is nearby so you can get messages in and out of Esperance?”

“Yes.”

“I’m assuming Argent knows?”

“Yes. So does the emperor. The high cleric doesn’t. It really needs to stay that way.”

“But, why would the emperor allow messages between you and Ford? He was the one who ordered our isolation.”

“The heir to the empire cannot afford to be completely isolated.”

Lie. The waver of apprehension gave Carver away.

He didn’t want her asking about this, and with all the thoughts churning in her mind, this wasn’t something she needed to press.

The Rising was dangerous. They’d targeted all of them on Zawri. They’d killed Darrin. They would have killed Ivan, if she hadn’t healed him.

They’d tried to killallof them.

It was possible the men who had hunted her would have stopped once they’d seen who she was, but that didn’t bring her much comfort.

When she’d come to Esperance, she’d been determined to help the Rising destroy the empire. She hadn’t questioned their methods. She hadn’t worried about the costs. She’d focused on her mission—her non-violent part—and dismissed everything else. But now sheknewthe people the rebels wanted to kill.

Argent was no longer just the heir to the empire. He was a friend to her; kindhearted, and a wholly enamored husband to the woman who had quickly become Amryn’s best friend. Argent did not represent the continuation of a dark empire; he had become Amryn’s hope for a future where the empire could change.

If the rebels killed him, that future would be lost.

The dread Carver was feeling tore her from her thoughts, and instantly made her tense. His expression was far too serious. “Amryn—”

He stopped when a yawn chose that moment to crack her jaw.

She blinked rapidly. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize. You need sleep.” She felt an odd flicker of relief from him as he grabbed her empty plate and pushed to his feet. “We can talk later.”

She had a feeling it wasn’t going to be a conversation either of them enjoyed.

Her own dread rose in a wave, and her voice was quiet as she said, “All right.”

Darrin was buried near Cora in Esperance’s cemetery. His funeral had been solemn, and Amryn felt mostly numbness from Marriset as she stood at the foot of her husband’s grave. There was no deep grief. No gut-wrenching despair. Just . . . nothing.

Everyone mourned differently, and Amryn imagined the new widow was still in shock. They’d only been back from Zawri for four days.

Trevill and the high cleric had worked together in an effort to identify the rebel bodies that had been recovered from Zawri. None of the staff or guards in Esperance had recognized them, which indicated the rebels must have been hiding nearby in the jungle. Trevill had yet to figure out who might have told the rebels about the excursion to Zawri, and he wasn’t the only one who burned with curiosity.

Carver, who stood beside Amryn during Darrin’s burial, also had questions. He hadn’t asked them yet, though. The conversation he dreaded having with Amryn hung in the air between them. She knew it was only a matter of time before he asked how she’d known about the attackers before it was physically possible to do so, but she was grateful for every day he delayed in broaching the subject.

She’d left a message for the rebels the day they’d returned to Esperance. Her note had been short, and tucked into the pages ofThe Ode of Saint Feyjinn. She’d asked for an in-person meeting, but hadn’t received an answer yet.

A part of her wondered if she ever would.

When the burial was concluded, the high cleric moved to talk to Marriset while the rest of them dispersed.

Jayveh wandered over and linked her arm in Amryn’s. “Walk with me?”

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