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And I had believed her. Sympathized with her after losing my own family. Comforted her.
I set her down on the stone floor while I dress, needing something to occupy my hands so I don’t finish the job that the dragon or whoever else was in this cave started. Khijhana is immediately at her side, soft purrs escaping the chalyx as she rubs her head against Zaina.
The cat is still loyal to her.
If only her master had an ounce of that loyalty.
My foot snags on a rock, and I nearly fall forward in the dark. When I look down, I realize it isn’t a rock at all, but instead, a brittle bone on a pile of ash. A twisted part of me hopes that it belongs to the man who traveled with Zaina, and that he suffered as much as possible.
Kicking the bone to the side, my eyes catch on more. Some belong to animals, and some clearly human. A few, I don’t recognize at all. What does the dragon hunt in these mountains? I suppose I should just be relieved the creatures hadn’t made their way further south.
Once I’m calmer, I make quick work of removing her clothes. She’s already shivering. Taking her from the warm cave and into the freezing temperatures while she’s soaking wet won’t help anyone -- least of all, my people.
I have grown used to despairing over them, of hopeless moments when I have failed to protect them. But I’ll be damned if I let Zaina die without telling me what happened, where the rose is, and why she robbed them of the one last chance they have at a future.
Wrapping her in her dry cloak and then in mine, she finally stops trembling enough for me to pick her up. Once she’s in my arms again, the dragon seems to relax enough to put its head down, its heavy lids slowly closing as if it can finally sleep.
In spite of the way it hadn’t made a move to harm me, I still walk backward out of the cave until it’s completely out of sight. Then, I quickly make my way back to Zola, hoping we will make it home before Zaina wakes up.
Since wrestling my traitorous wife on a hestrinn would bring all the wrong sort of attention.
Besides, I’m not sure what to do with her just yet.
Not only doesZaina stay asleep, but she’s limp enough that I begin to wonder if I removed her from the spring too soon. Khijhana bounds along next to us with none of the anxiety she exhibited in the cave, though, which leads me to believe Zaina is merely tired rather than in any real danger.
I glance down to make sure she’s still breathing, looking away as soon as I see the puff of her warm breath in the frigid air.
I’ve barely been able to look at her the entire trip, unable to stomach how fragile she appears when I know it’s not true. There is nothing fragile about her. But even now, her face is deceptively innocent.
Then again, isn’t everything about her deceitful? Something I would do well to keep in mind before she wakes up and starts spinning more lies.
When we arrive at the castle, a hush falls over the grounds, and I realize exactly what this looks like. I’ve been gone all day, and I’m carrying my wife’s limp body home. Between this and the news of her going missing, I’m certain they think she is dead. It’s probably better than the truth, in the long run.
Gunnar is waiting near the stables and takes Zaina long enough for me to dismount Zola. His face is slack as he takes her in, along with whatever he reads in my expression.
Everyone around us stares on with the same expression. Pity. Sadness. Shock. None of them know who she really is. What she’s done.
My muscles tight with tension, I take her back. She doesn’t so much as twitch, still fast asleep and blissfully unaware of those that mourn her already.
Without knowing the extent of her betrayal, I’m not sure I want to correct them, either, so I pull my cape a little closer around her face and head toward the castle doors.
Or try to, until someone intercepts me. It’s Sarah Agnes. Tears are already streaming down her face while she takes in Zaina’s dangling legs.
“What happened?”
“She was thrown from her hestrinn.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue, but it’s surely better than telling her, or anyone else, the truth.
The girl chokes back a sob, her eyes glancing between me and Zaina as if she’s trying to wrap her head around the idea.
“Lady Zaina saved my life. She saved me...and now she’s...” Another sob cuts her off, and my hands tighten around the cloak.
I try not to let my mind wander back to that moment, but it’s no use. Clear as day, I can see Zaina from where I was observing her a safe distance away.
The way she clenched her fist when the sound of a slap rang out. The fury she had kept at bay long enough to safely extract the girl from her father’s abusive grasp.
Had she known I was watching? Or had the girl just been part of a longer-term plan, along with the wild hestrinn?
More questions I may never have answers to, even if she does wake up. I try to leave when she speaks up again, stopping me in my tracks.
