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“Of course it does. It wouldn’t be much of a story otherwise.”
I tipped his chin up and peered into his fathomless eyes. “Does ours?”
“I have no doubt,” he said. And lied.
CHAPTER45
Lark
There had beena time when betrayal was all I knew.Traitor. It was in my name and followed me like a shadow. I’d hoped those days were over. But there was one last thing I had to do, one last betrayal, and as I looked over at Arin, his expression content, lashes fluttering in his sleep, I hoped, one day, his hate would fade, and he might forgive my final act.
The desert’s morning haze filtered through the shifting drapes. It was time. I crept from the bed, dressed without making a noise, and carrying my boots, I padded barefoot from the chamber. Outside, I tugged the boots on and hurried down empty corridors. War always seemed quiet in the mornings, likely due to their penchant for late-night drinking. Timing was everything.
I slipped by sleepy guards, passed through the training grounds, and spotted Draven’s bulky outline near some of the less extravagant villas War’s residents dwelt in. The buildings here spent half the day cast in the shadow of the palace’s huge battlement walls.
Draven saw me approach and straightened. Beside his boot lay a traveling bag.
“Any trouble?” he whispered.
“None.” I took the bag and slung it over my shoulder.
“Arin?” he asked.
“Asleep. He won’t wake anytime soon.” Pushing the bittersweet memories of mine and Arin’s lovemaking aside, I adjusted the bag on my back and studied the wall’s daunting facade. Draven had assured me it was scalable here, using the villa roofs to gain height first. He’d done it before, and if he could carry his bulk up that vertical climb, then I shouldn’t have any problem—besides my lacking fingers.
“Lark, are you sure? Arin… He won’t forgive this.”
“I know,” I said. Of course I knew. I’d burned too many bridges. There would be no going back.
He frowned and resigned himself to letting me go. “Friends are waiting on the other side for you,” he said. “They’ll take you to the border.”
I nodded. I should thank him but found the words lacking. I couldn’t have done this without him. He’d organized safe passage, and he’d given his word not to tell Arin. He wanted his son saved as much as I wanted all of this over. It was a lot.
I offered him my hand. “Thank you, Draven.” We shook, and his smiled slipped sideways. “I know we’ve not always seen eye to eye—”
He yanked me into his arms, almost lifting me off my feet, then let go and clapped me hard enough on the back for me to almost choke on my tongue. “I know you don’t believe it, but you’re a good man, Lark.”
Was I? I was righting some wrongs, that was all. And saving War’s people from what would be a pointless, bloody battle. “We’ll see.”
“Oh, almost forgot.” He stepped back, collected a second, slimmer bag, and handed it over. “They’re not common in these parts. I’ve been assured it’s all tuned, whatever that means. I hope it’s what you wanted.”
I grabbed the bag and peeked inside. A glossy black violin was nestled in red silk. “It’s perfect, thank you.”
“Well then.” He tucked his thumbs into his trouser belt and backed away. “I suppose this is goodbye. I hope this isn’t the end, for Arin’s sake.”
A smile was all I could offer him, but even that fell short at the thought of leaving Arin in such a way. “He will not be pleased with you either.”
Draven sighed, then took in a deep breath, filling his broad chest. “I know.”
“Look after him.” A new ache grew in my chest. “He won’t want your help, but he’ll need it.”
“D’yah even have to say it? You know I will.”
I shook his hand again and clasped his arm, meaning it. And this time, when our eyes met, there was no jest in it, no doubt either. This had to be done, and we both knew it.
“Save my son,” he said.
I nodded. “Rest assured, if he’s anything like his father, he’ll be all right.”
