It was only when they turned down an alley and Roa stood staring up at a green-washed wall—a dead end—that she started to pay attention.
Roa spun on her heel. Sirin stood before her, bathed in moonlight, blocking her way out. His morion glinted, the steel brim keeping his eyes in shadow.
For the second time that night, her hair rose on end.
Instinctively, she called for Essie.
Except Essie was gone. Roa was alone here, with an armed guard obviously used to taking liberties.
Roa stared him down. “What are you doing?”
“Ridding the king of his problem.”
Sirin’s voice had changed. It was no longer so charming. His smile was long gone, replaced by a grim stare.
“First, you blackmail him into marrying you. And now here you are, sneaking off in the night to meet with his enemies. Like a traitorous whore.”
Roa bristled at the words. “I never blackmailed anyone.”
But the second accusation... that rang too close to the truth.
“The king deserves better.”
“So you’re here to dispose of me?” Roa narrowed her eyes. “You’d better not fail. If you do, I’ll make sure you never see another dawn.”
“I’ve been paid too well to fail,” he said.
Paid?thought Roa.By whom?
He drew his saber from its sheath, the steel scraping against the leather. His hands shook—just a little.
Odd,thought Roa. Was he scared of her? Or whoever had paid him?
Roa stepped back, trying to remember how far the wall was behind her. She had the knife at her calf. But a knife was no match for a saber, and she didn’t want to reveal that she was armed. Not until she had to.
He wasted no time. The blade sliced through the air, coming straight for her. Roa threw herself hard to the right, narrowly dodging the blow. She felt the air rush against her skin, heard the soft hiss of torn wool. Sirin quickly doubled back, keeping himself between her and her escape.
Roa’s hands were slick with cold sweat.
He drew his second saber and walked toward her, trapping her in the corner, ensuring she wouldn’t be able to dodge him again.
Roa wiped her palms on the wool of her dress, her fingers itching for her sister’s knife.
No. Not yet.
Sirin bared his teeth and lunged. His blades flashed in the moonlight as he bore down on her. Only this time, the furious cry of a hawk rang out.
Sirin stopped, his focus broken.
Roa’s soul hummed at the sound.
They both looked up.
Essie descended out of the dark, white wings spread wide, gold talons sharp and gleaming, ready to claw out the eyes of the man who cornered her sister.
Sirin raised both sabers, ready to cut her down.
Roa drew her knife and sprang.
