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Still, Dvain had lived in my mind as this untouchable beast, a giant I could never hope to fell. And now he is gone.
What, then, does that mean for Madame? Can she be taken down as well?
Einar studies my face as he gently cleans the cuts on my hands and arms. His eyes bore into mine, and I stare right back, soaking in the sight of his glacial gaze for as long as I can.
His lips part, but I cut off whatever he is about to say.
“We both know this won’t stand.” I breathe out the words, and he nods. “Madame will find out.”
His steady hands wrap a bandage around the deeper cut on my forearm before stilling completely.
“I know,” he agrees. “Give me a few days to take care of things here?”
My brows knit together in confusion.
“Zaina, I cannot sit idly by and wonder every second if you are still alive, if she has found you, if someone is hurting you. Not now, not ever. Not to mention, my kingdom is in her line of fire. More than that, it seems to be the thing she wants most for reasons I believe go far beyond vengeance.” His features harden. “This isn’t your burden to bear alone.”
The protective part of me wants to rebel at that notion, to tell him to stay here where it’s safe and let me take care of this. But he isn’t wrong. He has just as much of a reason to see her defeated as I do. More, maybe, with his people on the line and their deaths weighing heavily on his conscience.
Besides, I don’t have the first clue where to start with ending her reign of terror.
I think about what Sigrid said, about what Einar and I could accomplish by working together for a change. He has a strategic mind and the resources of a king. I have information on Madame that no one else in the world has access to. It may not be enough, but it’s a start.
“All right.” I nod my head, letting him see the gratitude in my gaze. “Three days.”
For the first time in as long as I can remember, I begin to feel something like hope.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Zaina
In the two days since we returned to the castle, I have hardly seen Einar. He is busy getting things in order, and I have been content to plot in bed with Khijhana and heal.
Tomorrow, we leave.
So, when Sigrid offers to take a little extra care with my appearance today, I nod my assent. It’s our last night in this castle, and I want to make it special for him. For both of us.
She braids my hair in a style closer to Einar’s than the one before, artfully curling the ends. When she leaves to retrieve my outfit, I open up the jewelry box on his desk.
Sitting in the center of my neatly organized nose rings and bangles is my sparkling moonstone wedding ring. After only a moment’s hesitation, I slip it onto my finger.
The future may be uncertain, but Einar is not. I will wear his ring until I take my last breath, just as I swore to do.
Sigrid returns with a golden bundle. She helps me into the clothing, then turns me around to see the results. I gasp.
Embroidered golden fabric forms a fitted top and skirt, split in the front to reveal crimson fitted trousers. The outfit could be straight from the Eastern Lands, except that it’s long sleeved and entirely lined with fur for warmth.
She meets my eyes in the mirror. “You don’t have to be just one thing, My Lady.”
“Thank you,” I say. For the dress. For the acceptance. For everything.
She only nods, disappearing into the passageway just in time for Einar to walk in.
He looks even more regal than usual, somehow, his crown polished to perfection, so perhaps I’m not the only one showing off this evening.
He rakes his eyes over me, his eyes widening when they land on the ring. He brings my hand up to his lips, kissing the moonstone.
“You look almost perfect,” he murmurs.
