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She exchanges a look with her husband, who has something like a warning burning from his frigid eyes. They hold each other’s gazes, having an entire conversation I can’t begin to guess at.
Finally, she looks away.
“We talked about this,” she tells him quietly, moving to go around him.
“Not like this,” he growls, holding out an arm to stop her. “Not when you’re upset and haven’t had five minutes to cobble together a plan.”
She glares at the offending appendage, then darts a glance at me. It’s pointless to pretend I’m not listening, so I lean back against the wall like I’m enjoying the show, even though anxiety shoots through my limbs at whatever she’s trying to keep from me.
She turns back to Einar. “I already had a plan, and you said you would trust me.”
“Andyousaid you would be careful,” he snaps back, not budging.
“I will be.” Her voice is softer, but her expression is unyielding as she ducks under his arm, continuing to their bedroom.
He follows her, closing the door behind him while I consider what she may or may not have revealed. She knows where Aika is. Going after her is dangerous, that much is clear.
So why go? To help with whatever mission Aika is on for Madame? To pull her away from it?
They emerge less than a minute later with Zaina now dressed in a gown made from rich fabrics, but dark enough to be unobtrusive.
“This will soak up the sedative.” Einar holds a vial out for me.
It’s black, and when I remove the cork, the smell of charcoal wafts out to me.
I eye it with no small amount of suspicion, but the throbbing in my head coupled with the relative certainty that the Jokithan King won’t start a war by poisoning me, convinces me to down the contents.
Zaina addresses me while she pulls on her boots. “You need to get back to your rooms. I’ll likely be a while, and I doubt she’ll be back until morning.”
“You aren’t going to get her?” I ask.
Something flickers in her eyes, gone before I can decipher it and replaced with her usual cold mask.
“It’s not that simple. I have things to do while she’s gone, then I’ll go nearby to wait for her in case—” She cuts off, swallowing, and I finally put a name to the feeling she’s hiding behind her anger.
Worry.
Now that I recognize it, I can’t unsee it, painted in every single flawless line of her face.
She doesn’t strike me as a woman to fret easily or without cause, and I doubt seriously she is this concerned about the random citizens of Corentin.
Which means it’s Aika she’s afraid for.
Dread creeps through my veins like ice, freezing me in place. I don’t want to look too deeply into how much more bothered I am by the idea of Aika being hurt than all the people she might be inflicting pain on.
“In case what?” I demand.
Zaina doesn’t react, but Einar’s clenched jaw tells me what I need to know.
“She said she would be safe,” I say, like it matters at all when we both know that Aika is a liar, and a damned good one at that.
Zaina gives me a condescending look that conveys my last thought exactly.
“She said she would bealive,” she corrects, sliding the strap of a small bag across her body. “And you believed her because it was convenient for you.”
I want to argue, but I’m not entirely sure she’s wrong.
No one is safe from Madame.Didn’t Aika tell me that herself, a lifetime ago, when she was still Gemma?
