Page 72 of Esperance

Marriset’s irritation prickled the air, but she straightened her spine and focused once more on her sewing.

Sadia glanced over at Jayveh. “Argent must get updates on Chancellor Trevill’s investigation. Can you share what he’s found?”

“I don’t know all the details, but I do know that Trevill is looking at all possibilities. Including people outside of the couples.”

“That’s probably why the high cleric is in such a bad mood,” Sadia mused. “He doesn’t want it to be one of Esperance’s staff.”

Marriset blew out a heavy breath. “Can we please talk about something else?”

For once, Amryn agreed with her—though probably for different reasons. Marriset’s petulance about being pushed out of the conversation was obvious, while Amryn simply didn’t want to dwell on Cora’s death.

She still hadn’t received any sort of message from the rebels, which only made her more nervous that killing Cora had indeed been part of the Rising’s plan. That disturbed her in many ways. If they had callously killed such a harmless young woman, what would they plan to do to someone like Argent, Jayveh, or Carver? Worse, would the Rising ask her to play a part in their fates?

The needle jabbed Amryn’s thumb, and she sucked in a breath.

“Are you all right?” Jayveh asked her.

“Fine,” she said at once, though her throat was dry and her thumb throbbed.

Jayveh’s concern lingered for a moment, and it only made Amryn’s guilt flare hotter. The princess was fast becoming a friend, and Argent had defied all her expectations as well. The future emperor was kind, funny, and wholly in love with his wife. Not at all the evil man she’d expected.

And then there was Carver.

He wasn’t anything like the man she’d anticipated. The general. The Butcher. Instead, he’d been attentive, thoughtful, and even vulnerable. He made her laugh. He brought out a lighter, more playful side of her that she hadn’t been since her mother’s death. He had given her the full use of the bedroom, and had kept his word and not touched her. He was surprisingly protective. Even after the high cleric had barged in and accused Carver of being a killer, Carver had been more worried about Amryn. When Amryn had returned from her walk with Jayveh, Carver’s intense gaze had locked with hers, and he’d asked, “Are you all right?”

As ifshe’dbeen the one the high cleric had come after so hotly.

Carver was an enigma. He was a war hero, but he didn’t glory in war. In fact, she knew he was haunted by it. And instead of letting him suffer alone in the middle of the night as the emperor’s favored general no doubt deserved, she’d gone to him a few times now and offered him comfort in the form of distraction. Those talks they’d shared, the stories of their childhoods . . . it was making him more human. Which only left her more confused.

How could she comfort a man,andconspire with the Rising—a group who would most likely try to kill him before the year was out? How could shenothelp the Rising, when Carver represented the empire who had taken so much from her, and so many other innocents?

How could she be growing feelings for a man who would kill her if he knew what she was?

Her thoughts and emotions were impossible to untangle. But sometimes, when Amryn caught Carver staring at her, she wondered if he was slowly unraveling her.

“Amryn, do be careful not to bleed on the blanket.”

Marriset’s voice jerked Amryn from her thoughts, and she realized the others in the room had noticed her pause.

Her cheeks warmed, but she met Marriset’s condescending stare. “It’s fine.”

“Well, we only have so much fabric, so do try to be careful.” Marriset tossed her long brown hair over one shoulder and returned to her sewing with a rather imperious air. “It’s a shame these weren’t dyed in Palar. We have the best dyes. Just because these blankets are destined for the poor doesn’t mean they shouldn’t have the best.”

Tam snorted beside Amryn, and under her breath she muttered, “Only she could be insulting while engaged in charity.”

Marriset shot a curious glance their way, which only proved she hadn’t heard Tam’s words.

Sadia—who must have heard, or at least guessed that Tam’s words weren’t favorable toward Marriset—was quick to ask about Palar dyes, which distracted the other woman.

“You shouldn’t provoke her,” Jayveh whispered.

Tam—who was seated on Amryn’s other side—quirked one dark eyebrow. “She’s trying to steal Argent from you, you know.”

Jayveh ghosted a smile. “Oh, I know. But she’s doomed to fail.”

“I think she knows it now,” Amryn said quietly. “She seems extra peevish today.”

“She’d have to be blind and dumb not to notice how little attention he pays her,” Tam said. “Did you see the way he shrugged her off last night after dinner?”

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