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“He’s like a growly little kitten-”
“One with no teeth or claws-”
“Just a ball of cute fluff, really-”
“Mis queridas,” Ren said smoothly as he took advantage of their rare united position, “as much as I would love to join you in your appreciation of my boy’s adorableness, he’s right.”
“Oooh, speak sexy Quarehian at us again,” Zovisasha cooed, batting her eyelashes at him.
He winked and offered a stream of compliments in his own tongue before gently ushering them both back the way we’d come.
“Thank you for everything,” I said, and Lilia beamed at me. She then repeated everything the prince had just said to them, word for word, and as much as I might have found it odd being called a pair of stunning women whose bravery and compassion were outmatched and whose wit kept one gladly on one’s terrified toes, I was too busy being impressed at the perfect memory recall to complain.
And then they were gone, sneaking back through the maintenance tunnel and rusted gate they’d brought us in by, and leaving me and Ren alone in the Mazekhstani castle.
It was eerily silent, the heavy stone dampening all noise and light that may otherwise have seeped in if we were back in the airy halls ofla Cortina, and making it feel like we were in the bowels of the earth. I saw Ren shiver, and knew it wasn’t just from the cold.
“This is terrible,” he said, but before I could attempt to reassure him, he cracked a grin. “If wewerehere to assassinate the regent, she’s making it remarkably easy for us.”
I snorted. “We’re nowhere near Astrid. Do you have any idea as to the size of this place?” I scuffed my boot against the flagstones, kicking up dust. “Those torches are only lit out of tradition. There’s probably a near mile of corridor and stairs before we reach anywhere habitable, let alone the royal chambers. We’ll be stopped by guards long before then.”
“That’s my Mathias,” he said. “Always so fucking cheery.”
Well, there was the opening to the thing I needed to ask him and yet had been putting off for weeks, too terrified as to his response to have broached it before now. But in mere minutes, it would be too late.
“Ren,” I whispered, and it felt like the dust was thickening, clogging up my throat until I could barely speak. I forced the beginning of my question out, but at the last moment changed it to a statement, too afraid of him saying no. “Are you...you need to be prepared to walk away if Astrid asks for something we can’t give.”
“I told you,” he said, somehow managing to answer with a Blessednoanyway. “Whatever it takes to help Quareh.”
“Not you!” I hissed. “If she demands your life or freedom in return, you don’t accept. You hear me?”
“Mathias-”
“No, you’ll fucking listen, Ren!” I was shouting at him now, but I didn’t care. I grabbed his arm, tightening my fingers and digging in my heels so he couldn’t pull away. “You don’t get to sacrifice yourself! We’re not taking another step unless you promise me that.”
“I promise.”
“Mean it, asshole,” I snarled, and he gave an amused huff.
“Dorogoi?” I begged, and apparently the musty air was devolving from inconvenience to a major health hazard, because the tears forming in my eyes were clearly due to dust motes and nothing else.
Ren hummed out a low note of distress and raised his thumb to wipe them away.
“I promise,” he said softly, and this time I could hear the sincerity in his voice. We pulled each other into a tight embrace, the gravity of what we were about to do seeming to hit both of us at once, far too late and far too close to the end to not see it through. Although, maybe it had never been a choice. Because from the moment I voiced the realisation that Mazekhstam was our last hope for recovering Quareh from Welzes and Navar’s slimy clutches, we’d set ourselves on a path we couldn’t divert from. Ren cared for his people too much, and I...well. Ren accused me of caring for peoplegenerallytoo much, and it was one protest I never won.
“Hands in the air, Quarehian.”
Ren tensed and detached himself from me slowly, his eyes darting to something over my shoulder.
“How the fuck did you get in here?” someone barked, their tone incredulous. I heard the sound of steel being unsheathed. “Hands in thefucking air!”
Ren complied. I raised my hands too, but there was immediate recognition in the two guards’ eyes when I turned around and their gazes flickered to my face, although their swords remained levelled at us.
“Prince Nathanael?” the one with a scar across his chin asked, his brows scrunching so much that they seemed to disappear into the creases on his forehead. I recognised him from my time in the castle, although I’d never learned his name. “I…don’t…”
“We need to see the regent,” I said. “Now.”
His confusion deepened. “You…”
