I stare down at the muddy ground. It’s easier than looking at the divide between us—the way that Carter and Bryce have healed while I’ve remained fractured. They’ve moved on from the night the Drained nearly overran the fort, but some days it feels like I’m just taking my first breath after life as I knew it ended. Like I’m still blinking up at a gray dawn, knowing I’m greeting the first day in a world without my sister—and that it’s my fault she’s gone.
The grief is like an icicle lodged in my sternum. For a moment, I’m too frozen to draw breath.
I tug at the collar of my shirt. I suddenly can’t wait to get out of this sticky linen and into dry clothes. This is not a conversation I want to have now.
“Fine,” I grumble. “I’ll go to the recovery room after I bathe. Crisis averted. Then, I’ll go drag Harlow out of her room and figure out what’s wrong with her.”
Carter speaks first. “You sure you don’t feel anything for her?”
I cock my head to the side. “Annoyance. Frustration. Exasperation.”
Carter bites his lip to keep from grinning. “You’re not normally so ruffled.”
I wave him off. “You’ve been spending too much time with your wife and her romantic notions. It’s unhealthy for a man to be so happy.”
“No one would blame you. She’s as clever as she is beautiful,” Carter says, grinning widely.
I think of the way her eyes lit up when looking at the racks of weapons in the armory. “She’s dangerous and hiding something.” I wipe my hand over my face. “The bodyguard knows something. I just need a clue as to what she’s doing in there?—”
“Ice.”
I snap my head toward Bryce.
“One of the cooks from the kitchen. She’s chatty, you know—after.” He waggles his eyebrows.
I roll my eyes. “Focus, Bryce. What about ice?”
“The cook says with everything that they send up to her room, there’s always water and the bodyguard also requests extra ice,” Bryce says.
“You think she has a fever?” I ask.
Bryce shrugs a shoulder. “The cook didn’t know what Harlow is using it for, just that the tray is always returned with no ice remaining several times a day.”
“Why wouldn’t she tell me if she’s ill?” I ask.
Carter laughs. “Isn’t it obvious? You’ve gone on and on to her about our culture, have you not? Why would she want to appear weak if strength is so important here?”
“But I’m?—”
“A stranger,” Bryce says. “You’re the guy her family is marrying her off to. She’s hardly a blushing virgin. She’s been married before, for Polm’s sake, but she doesn’t know you. You were expecting her to be meek and she’s not. She is justifiably wary, especially now that you know about her favorite…hobby.”
Carter leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, and gives me a hard glare. “Look, what Bryce is trying and failing to say is that she’s clearly not thrilled. If you want to drive that wedge between her and her family, that’s the place to start. Show her something—give her some kind of offering and see what she does with it. If she’s unwell, you have a very big secret that you could trade for a little bit of trust. She just needs that initial push.”
I sigh and drag a hand through my hair. Both of them are good enough not to remind me that they both lost something in the attack—that they want vengeance as bad as I do. Their opportunity to settle a score relies on me winning Harlow over. I’ve got to stop losing sight of the fact that this is bigger than me.
If I’m too nice too quickly, she won’t trust me. She’s too smart for that—and even so, I feel the weight of her bodyguard’s assessment. I don’t completely understand their relationship, but I can tell she trusts him.
She has secrets to trade, but I have secrets too. This is a huge risk, but if she’s actually hurting, it could do wonders to warm our relationship. “You’re right. I’ll show her the Mountain Well.”
Two hours later, after a bath, a meal, and some quiet time in the recovery room, I finally feel up for confronting Harlow.
Unfortunately, when I turn down the hallway, Gaven is still standing guard outside her room.
“Miss Carrenwell is deep in pre-wedding prayer and meditation.”
It’s a credit to the bodyguard that he keeps a straight face while saying it. It makes me even more eager to kill him. I’ve been thinking about it since the moment we left Lunameade. I had hoped that the journey across the Drained Wood would take care of Gaven, but he’s made of surprisingly hearty stuff. I’m going to have to do it myself.
“Neither of us believes that,” I say. “The wedding is tomorrow. I’m done waiting around. I need to speak with her.”
