As she made her way through long halls and lavish indoor gardens, she couldn’t stop thinking about the blood streaming down Sirin’s throat, the sound of him choking.
But more than these things was what Sirin said.
I’ve been paid too well to fail.
Roa had refused to consummate her marriage and, by doing so, refused to give Dax an heir. She’d made things difficult by insisting on the treaty with the Great Houses and then threatening his council when they refused to uphold it in the Assembly that morning.
Plenty of people in his court disliked her. Plenty wanted her gone.
But were these reasons enough for Dax to want her dead?
She was trying to puzzle it out when she ran straight into a solid chest.
Hands reached to steady her.
“Roa? What are you doing here?”
Her heart raced. Trapped. She didn’t want to be trapped again.
Essie spread her wings in warning as Roa pushed the hands away and stepped abruptly back.
Dax stood before them.
He wore a white cotton shirt, unlaced at the throat. Dark circles shadowed his eyes.
“Where are your guards?” he asked, studying her and the hawk.
Her skin prickled with wariness. She squeezed his seal against her palm as she took another step back. “My guards?”
“Yes. The four men who follow you around day and night, keeping you safe?”
Those words sharpened something inside Roa.
“Sometimes,” she said, “the ones closest to us are the least safe.”
“Indeed,” he said, his gaze taking in too much. He saw how she trembled. Saw her wrist, still splattered with flecks of blood.
Roa pulled down her sleeve to hide it.
His gaze moved over her gray wool gown. It was a practical scrublander dress that came to her ankles. She’d worn it out in the city to keep from being recognized.
He looked from the dress to the flower tucked behind her ear. A flower she’d completely forgotten about.
Roa quickly reached to touch the petals of the rose Theo gave her.
“Someone should let him know you prefer jacarandas.”
Roa’s fingers froze. “W-what?”
Dax stepped toward her. Roa tensed, ready to spring away at the slightest threatening movement. But all he did was pluck the rose from behind her ear. He held it in the space between them, its petals swooping elegantly into his palm.
“You love when they drop their flowers,” he murmured.
She stared at him, remembering the first summer he came to Song. She and Essie had wanted to explore the ruins of Shade and their mother would only let them if they brought Dax along. Jacaranda trees grew in almost every ruined room, throwing soft purple flowers down and carpeting the dirt floors.
“That was ten years ago,” she said, squeezing the seal in her hand. “A lot can change in ten years.”
You most of all,she thought.
