When I looked over, he had taken a seat with his back to me. He leaned on the table, fingers pressed to his lips, his gaze fixed on the door.
A smile crept across my face.
“What do you think of Leihim?” I asked, as I shed my dress and slid into the tub. The water’s warmth drew a hiss—almost too hot. Still, I sank in, easing into its comforting embrace.
Sainte cleared his throat. “I don’t know him well enough to make a judgment call.”
“What about this Dire Wolf character?” I reached into the basket beside the tub, pulling out a bar of soap.
“Heard of them in passing.”
“I think I should meet them.”
Sainte shifted, glancing over his shoulder to observe me from the corner of his eye. “He’s killed before.”
I batted my lashes, feigning innocence as I sank lower. “So it’s a ‘he,’ is it?”
“It’s no place for you, Elspeth.”
“So you know where he is.”
“El,” he pivoted fully, bracing his hands on his knees as his sharp gaze flashed a warning. “This is a dangerous game. If we make enemies of the common folk, we won’t survive. And crossing Hinyte will have the nobles at our throats.”
“I have to learn to play, eventually.” I shrugged, then lathered some soap in my hair.
“Anderz can guide you. Ask him for advice.”
I ducked under, scrubbing at my scalp before resurfacing. Gasping, I rubbed the wetness from my eyes. “Do you think he knows where to find him?” I asked, noticing he had once again turned his back to me.
“Dyre knows more than you can imagine.”
I squinted at that. His tone carried a hint of mystery, suggesting more than his words revealed.
“Why won’t Adastrus aid Leihim?”
“The prince regent can’t be bothered with their issues.”
“There’s a bandit in the kingdom. Wouldn’t he want the matter resolved?”
“Not if he doesn’t care enough. To him, it’s the caravan’s problem. They should hire more security. He won’t send soldiers to defend a common merchant.”
My frown tightened, and I finished my washing.
It didn’t add up. If Hinyte was as influential as he claimed, the regent would want to stay in his favor and, at the very least, pretend to address the issue. Something seemed off in this political web, and I hadn’t been raised to navigate the nuances of such intrigue. I was a simple girl, masquerading as a princess.
At least I had Anderz.
Resigned to seek him out in the morning before being summoned to court, I glanced at Sainte’s back before rising from the tub. I stepped out, quickly wrapping a robe around myself and plucked my dress off the floor. Approaching Sainte, I draped it over the chair beside him. His eyes tracked from my robe to my face. Something dark and dangerous heated in that cool gaze, and I responded with a sweet smile.
He grunted, standing abruptly, and pulled his tunic from his trousers. As he neared the tub, he set a dagger beside it before yanking his tunic over his head. A quiet hiss escaped his lips, drawing my attention to his injuries. The wounds from the flogging healed into long red welts, some still scabbed over, bright pink flesh exposed where scabs fell off. A faint bruise lingered on his lower back, a reminder of Adastrus’ blow when I claimed him as my Valahant.
I stepped forward, compelled by an unseen force to touch those wounds. Sainte froze at the sound of my footsteps, glancing over his shoulder. My fingers traced along his skin, drawn tight over a layer of muscles. The thick, uneven ropes of scar tissue weren’t ruggedly handsome in some dangerous way—they were ugly.
“Fifteen years’ worth?” I murmured.
“I managed to recruit enough to save my hide a handful of times.”
He turned to face me. I swallowed hard, the sound loud in the quiet room as my gaze roamed over his chest and abdomen. Sainte stood solid and powerful, his thick muscles defined beneath a dusting of dark hair, which almost concealed the bruises left by Adastrus’ fists. I held my breath, finding his face. Bruises still stained the right side, and I reached up, my fingers brushing his discolored cheek. His eyes fluttered shut at my touch, and something twisted in my heart.
