“When we first met you were attempting to run from a halmasti like a clueless fawn. Then you stab the fucking general in the neck. You have magic no one has ever seen before, and the Viceroy meets you and immediately has more information on an ancient peri relic he’s been searching for than he has in years.”
He pressed up against me, every inch of him hard and unyielding. “Who are you?”
I stayed silent, bullish, determined to not give him a thing.
“You want me to tell Reza my suspicions and have him order me to torture it out of you?” He leaned forward, and my heart raced so fast I wouldn’t have been surprised if he could hear it. “Do you know how many people I’ve tortured for him?”
His eyes were shadowed, haunted, deep wells of anger. I shook my head, unable to speak, not sure what I would even say.
“So many I’ve lost count,” he whispered, voice ragged with pain. “So many I can still hear all their screams. And if that’s what you want from me, so be it.”
He released me abruptly, striding away toward the entrance.
“Wait,” I called out for the second time, grabbing his arm. It was unmovable steel, like his eyes, and even I was surprised at my audacity. He stilled, and turned to face me, an eyebrow raised in expectation. I kept my hand on his arm but took a step forward.
I may not be intimidating, but I could hold my own against someone who threatened me.
Safiyya’s voice sounded in my mind.Finally, you’re acting like a Nazir.
“Why haven’t you told the Viceroy already?” I cocked my head.
He exhaled but didn’t try to remove my hand from his arm. “Is that what you want? For me to tell him I think you’re a spy from another Court?”
So that’s what he thought I was—a human sent from another peri court.
His hand found my chin, and he lifted my eyes up to the lantern hanging from the top of the tent. I shook my face from his grasp.
“No.”
As much as I wanted to lie, it was impossible now. From what I’d seen in the Viceroy’s eyes, he wouldn’t hesitate to get to the truth.
“You don’t look enthralled.” Kiyan’s eyes narrowed on my face. “But there are ways to hide it.”
“I’m not enthralled,” I snapped. “You don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
He pressed forward, until we stood toe to toe. “So, make me understand.”
I sighed and released Kiyan’s arm. He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself for the conversation I was about to have. The only other person I had told was Mishah, but she was like me, someone who was just struggling to survive—not a fae warrior whose job it was to catch and kill rebels.
“I’m not from here.”
He snorted as if he knew as much already and opened his mouth to retort, but I cut him off.
“I’m from across the River,” I clarified.
His mouth dropped open and he uncrossed his arms, looking as if I’d just hit him over the head with a copy of the Citadel’sHistory of Astola.
“Impossible,” he finally muttered, more to himself than me. He shook his head, looking me up and down as if there were some way to tell whether I was a human from across the River.
“Not impossible,” I answered anyway. “I had a fae relic that allowed me to cross.”
His eyes glittered, mouth curving as he realized. “The haath phool. You used Queen Azari’s bracelet. The one that was lost.”
I nodded. “Yes, the one you took from me,” I said, still bitter. “It was in the human world when I found it.”
When I took it.
