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“Valdus said you will help our cause, but I don’t buy it,” Mylena adds, taking advantage of my silence. “I’ll follow his orders because he has offered me a life I could have never even dreamed of, because he has opened the door of his house to me when no one else would. But I don’t have to like it.” She points her scarred finger at me. “I don’t have to like you.”
I sink my teeth into my lip to stop the snapping reply from escaping, and pain explodes through my mouth. Blood from the reopened wound I never got around to healing fills my mouth, and I swallow it down with another curse.
Eager to slap her if only to shut her up, I level my gaze with Mylena’s, but even now she’s faster than I am, her next words laced with hate. “Get out of my kitchen.”
I close the cabinet with a soft push, not ready to give her the satisfaction of seeing how deeply her words had been buried under my skin. Each step measured, I walk out of the kitchen. At least until I’m out of her sight. Then I’m running through the halls, the echo of her voice chasing me deeper into the vast building. Lara is on my heels, trying to catch with me, but I dash up the first staircase I see. I climb higher and higher until a door bars my passage. Barging through, I find myself on the roof, the endless sky greeting me with a flicker of stars.
Lara comes to a halt next to me. “You never listen, do you?” she says, taking one deep breath after another. “Whatever she said, don’t take it to heart.”
“What did she mean when she said that Valdus opened the doors of his house to her?” I ask, picking at the sewn edges of my sleeves.
Lara rubs the back of her neck and walks to the parapet of rusted metal. “It’s an old story.”
A glare is all the answer she gets from me. I’ll wait as long as it takes to hear every last detail. Lara sighs, settles down, and pats the place next to her. Only when I’ve calmed myself enough to take a seat does she speak.
“I remember the day we found her wandering the streets as if it was yesterday. She wasn’t from around here. A girl no older than sixteen with badly healed wounds all over her body and a child in her arms,” Lara says. “Some were worried she was a spy, but Valdus wouldn’t leave her on the streets. None of us would.”
“What happened to her?”
Lara’s voice is empty when she answers. “The desert.”
A single word, but it means everything. These sands are beautiful and brutal. Full of dreams and death.
“At the time, Valdus had finally saved enough money from his extra shifts to buy himself a house. Close to the factory, but sheltered from view. It had a back door that was easy to slip through, a hidden room that was not included on the schematics. A perfect little house for someone who had just earned the rank of King of Rebels.” Lara sighs. “I don’t remember how it happened or who suggested it, but somehow Valdus ended up giving up his house and moving back in with Inara. He’s still watching over her, he goes to teach Gavin some things and offers his wages even though Mylena doesn’t want to work at the factory or the household.”
“Is he in love with her or something?” I ask.
Lara laughs. “Maker’s breath, no. Only one girl had ever caught his interest, and it never became more serious than a fleeting romance. I think he just has a big heart under that brooding facade.”
I take a deep breath. My anger at hearing Mylena’s words calms down to a low simmer, but it won’t die. If only because she spoke the truth. Valdus has shown me much more kindness than I’ve earned. He had taken the daughter of his enemy into his house, sheltered me while I healed, protected me even from myself, and offered me a chance to make this desert better. No matter what happens next, I can’t fail him. I might be a princess of the empire, but I’m a rebel now, and I’ll do anything my king orders. Even if it means putting as much distance between us as he demands.
The last empty seat at the back of the caravan is next to Mylena, and I take it, swallowing down a sigh. She doesn’t offer me the same courtesy and rolls her eyes as the mechanical beast comes to life.
I’m too tired for another sparring of sharp words and barely disguised jabs. I just spent the night tossing and turning from side to side, worrying that something happened to Valdus. Numair came back only this morning, reassuring us that he’s safe. As he had no other news, I convinced him to bring me back to The Broken Sands.
I hide a yawn with the back of my hand, and even such an insignificant gesture doesn’t pass unnoticed by Mylena. She smirks, her features taut with malice. “It seems our newest recruit is Leata the Tender.”
Mylena’s allusion to the princess in the story from our childhood who couldn’t sleep only because of a pea was put under seven layers of cushions laid out for her bed makes me grind my teeth.
“Mylena,” Kyle says, ready to reprimand her.
As she arches her perfectly painted brow over her brown eyes, I know it only stirs her anger more when someone tries to defend me.
“Don’t bother,” I tell Kyle. “If that’s what she wants to call me, so be it.”
My refusal to engage in another parry of words shuts down Mylena’s desire to provoke me further. I lean back against the seat, grateful for a moment of reprieve I’ve earned. The cold metal soothes my anger, and I close my eyes, absently picking at the earth lodged under my fingernails. My headache still troubles me, but I don’t dare to tell anyone. I won’t let them chase me out of the greenhouse that has become everything to me.
My eyes flutter open when Numair shakes my shoulder in the empty caravan. “I didn’t think Mylena would allow you a moment of peace.”
“If everyone knows how infuriating she is, why is she still here?” I ask and jump down the steps into the sand.
“She’s family.” Numair sighs and that word answers all the questions.
Family.
People related to me by blood swarmed the palace, but it was in a small house with chipped red paint that I finally understood the meaning of that word. When Inara, smelling of apple pies and spiced tea, offers me a hug, I can feel the bond as if it was a real thing.
“I’ve missed you, my little troublemaker.”
