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When somewhere in the car a door slides open with a silent whoosh, I’m ready to close mine. Even if Rev is one of the two most feared soldiers in the desert, my station is still above his. Before I can actually shut the door in his face, the tick below his ear tugs on his skin. Rev scoffs and pulls a small pouch from the pocket of his trousers. Without a single word, he hands it to me.
I frown but untie the simple knot, and a silver flower falls on my hand. “What…” my question fades into nothingness when Rev shrugs. That tick builds up in strength as I turn the flower in my hand, the delicate chain flowing between my fingers.
Rev turns away and makes it halfway to his suite before I can realize that—even if it’s a delicate chain where it was once a thinning cord—it’s still the same trinket the man tried to offer me back in The Shadow City.
“This doesn’t change a thing,” I whisper.
Rev stops in his tracks but doesn’t turn. Moments pass, and I wonder if he heard me or if he’s waiting for me to repeat myself. Just as I open my mouth, he strides back toward me. If only it was fury or anger blazing in his eyes, I could stomach it, but the darkness that has swallowed his features makes me stumble back a step.
“My mission here is not to babysit a stubborn princess,” he says, overshadowing my suite with his presence. A retort sits on the tip of my tongue, but Rev isn’t done. “You were right. I wasn’t sent to the dungeons for the mistakes I’ve made, but Our Sun and Light isn’t a man who shows mercy. Believe me, I’ll do whatever it takes to see this through.”
He glares at me for another moment, as if waiting to confirm that I’ve understood the meaning behind his words, but he walks away before I can formulate a retort.
I slide the door closed, leaning heavily on it, curling my hands into fists. The sharp edges of the petals dig into my skin and before they can draw blood, I clasp the silver chain around my neck. The least I can do is to wear this gift when a man had paid with his life to offer it to me.
I drop on the bed, rubbing my eyes, trying to erase the unease Rev has infused in me. It eludes me why my father has deemed the marriage of one of his countless daughters so important that he has sent the most dangerous guard of the empire to watch over me. I might never learn the answer to that question. But I promise myself one thing. I’ll spend the next three weeks as far away from Rev as possible.
My limbs are heavy. My mind, sluggish. And I hear the thump of feet coming from the corridor outside.
The door slides open, and I jump to my feet as if I’d never fallen asleep. Tylea appears on the other side. “He asked where you were at lunch, and I just told him there was a man with you— “
Ajaia pushes by her. “Shut your trap.”
He tries to close the door, but Tylea doesn’t let him. He raises his hand, and I dash between them.
“Tylea, go.”
“I— “
“Go,” I insist, turning away from her.
She takes a small step back and that’s all it takes for my betrothed to slam the door shut.
He turns to me, anger making his bloodshot eyes twitch. “I thought I made it abundantly clear. You are mine. Mine and no one else’s,” he says, spittle flying through his gritted teeth. He grabs my wrist, his fingers digging into my skin. A little more pressure, and he’ll break a bone. A whimper escapes out of my lips, but Ajaia doesn’t seem to hear me, or he doesn’t care. “Didn’t your tramp of a mother teach you anything?”
I would have protested, asked him how he dared to say such things about a wife of Our Sun and Light, but I don’t dare to open my mouth. Countless beatings from my mother taught me to fear the signs. Bared teeth. Hands rolled into fists. Anger lining the skin around his eyes.
“You are not to leave this compartment for the rest of the trip.”
I quiver away from him, biting my lip to stifle the tremor building up there. His slap comes with ringed fingers digging into my skin. I clutch my cheek, fire spreading where gems have drawn lines on my face.
“Did you hear me?”
I nod, unable to utter a word, uncertain of how my voice will sound as my breaths echo the tremors of my body. He drops my hand, and I don’t dare to look at the bruises pulsing under my skin.
Ajaia takes a few breaths, running his fingers through his thinning hair. “Don’t make me do that again,” he says.
His voice is calm now, but I rush to nod again, unsure of how fast he can draw on the anger I saw raging in his features not a moment ago. He reaches toward my face, wiping a tear that has formed at the corner of my eye, and his fingertips glide over my still burning cheek.
Ofara was right. I would rather face her than a man who can switch between raging anger and a tender caress in a flicker of a moment.
His fingers run deeper into my hair. The caress leaves a clammy feeling on my skin. The next moment, his mouth is on mine. His beard rasps my skin. The smell of sour wine on his breath fuels the nausea building in my stomach.
I push him away, but Ajaia only laughs into my mouth, holding me flush against him, no matter how much I wrestle in his hold. His hands slide down my back, and I can’t hold it any longer. He might beat me so hard that I’ll hear Livith’s beckoning call, but anything is better than this.
To eternity with consequences.
I stomp on his foot, bury my rolled fist in the flaccid belly hanging over his groin, and stumble away, realizing my mistake. I’ve hurt him, but not enough to cause pain. Only rage. It unfurls like a blooming flower.
