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“Could be as soon as three weeks,” Petrik offers.
“Then we’d better hurry.”
Kellyn’s hand burns in mine as we walk to our rooms for the night. Though touching him always brings a pleasant warmth, I’m feeling more than just that. Speaking in front of others, throwing away the earnings of my life’s work—it has me burning inside.
I’m overheated, stressed, but at the same time, I know what I did was right.
Instead of giving me a kiss at my door, like Kellyn usually does, he steps inside with me. He takes his hand out of mine to rest both hands on my shoulders.
“Are you sure about this?”
“I’m sure of nothing as far as this war is concerned.”
“But, Ziva, your life’s earnings! Everything you’ve worked so hard for. Those royals don’t deserve it.”
“I’m not giving it to them. I’m giving it to a bunch of sellswords.”
“On their behalf.”
“On behalf ofGhadra. And it’s not just my money. Marossa and Skiro are pitching in, too. Everything that they can spare in taxes. Everything the nobility can give.”
He stands straight. “I don’t like it.”
“I don’t, either, but I don’t see another way.”
“Maybe we can rally the mercenaries to fight without the incentive of money. This is their home, too. They will also suffer if Kymora takes over.”
I cross my arms. “Put yourself in their shoes. Would you take on such a job without money?”
“If I knew the extent of the situation. If I was fighting for my family—”
“How many of those mercenaries are likely to have families like you do?”
Quietly, he says, “Not many.”
I wrap my arms around him, pull his head down to my shoulder.
“You’re comforting me,” he says with a tinge of humor.
“You seem to need it.”
“You should be the one to need it.”
“And yet, I’m holding up just fine all things considered.”
Kellyn sighs into my neck. “You’re a rock. Steady and unbreakable.”
“And I like to stay in one place.”
He laughs, the sound tickling my skin. His hands are in my hair, his fingers running through the strands.
“Will you stay with me tonight?” I ask. The anxiety doesn’t creep in until the words are out. I should no longer fear rejection of this nature from this man, but I do. Constantly.
“Of course. Let me get changed, and I’ll be right back.”
I use the opportunity to change myself. I place my hammers on the bedside table, within reach. I’ve never had to do this with weapons before leaving my home. But now I seem to need something sharp or blunt nearby at all times.
I empty my pockets, thinking to tuck the herbs into a drawer out of sight.
