“They captured you two or three days ago?” she asked.
He stopped chewing, gave her a suspicious look.
“Your stubble,” she explained, waving at his face.
He fingered the dark hair on his chin and nodded. “There was a battle near Zeneca.”
“They took you prisoner?”
“We won. After the battle, they sent in a traitor who pretended to have an urgent message for . . . the Commander, that a nearby tribe were interested in an alliance and wanted to meet, and when we rode out to negotiate, we were ambushed.”
That sounded like Herron's style.
“I hope your Commander got away.” She couldn't help it. She wanted to poke at him a little in revenge for forcing her to change her plans.
He gave her a sharp look, as if he was suspicious of her question, and she lowered her gaze, folded some bread over a piece of cheese, and put it in her mouth.
She had never tasted anything so good.
“Why do they call your leader the Turncoat King?”
He was silent, and she risked a quick glance at him.
He was chewing thoughtfully as he stared at her face. “He was part of the Chosen.”
She hadn't expected that. She met his gaze. “He turned against the Kassian army?”
“He turned against them,” Luc said. “And he took every Chosen on the battle field with him.”
“When was this?” She couldn't believe she hadn't heard of it. It was breathtaking in its implications.
“Just under two years ago.” He was still watching her, looking for any sign of deception in her expression, but he would find none. She would have taken such heart from the idea of the Chosen rebelling.
Herron would have known that.
He would have made certain she didn't hear of it.
The whole sick and twisted Chosen program was the worst thing her aunt had ever done. Even her aunt had known it.
Ava didn't think the queen had ever been the same after it.
“How long were you a Chosen?”
“Who says I was?” He had finished his share of the bread and cheese, and lifted the apple to his lips to take a bite.
“You said the Commander is your leader, I assumed you were in the Chosen with him.”
He bit down, then held the apple out to her.
She took it without breaking eye contact.
Eventually, just as she bit in, he inclined his head.
“I was. From the age of fourteen.”
He seemed to be in his mid to late twenties, so she guessed he'd been in the indentured servitude program for almost ten years before he had managed to break free.
“And the Herald calls your Commander the Turncoat King because he turned on the Kassians during a battle the Chosen were fighting for Kassia?”
“He did more than that. He got word to the Kassian's enemies the night before the battle that the Chosen would turn on their keepers, to avoid more of his people dying for Kassia than necessary.”
“Oh.” She thought of it with wonder. A field of warriors the Kassian generals thought were fighting for them turning to strike a blow against them, and the enemy hanging back, their participation unnecessary. “I wish I had seen it.” She truly did.
Luc's expression was surprised, as if he hadn't expected her enthusiasm.
“Who were the Chosen supposed to fight?”
“The Venyatu.”
“Oh,” she said again, unable to hold back her smile. Carila, her weapons and fight master from a young age, had been Venyatux. She could speak the language fluently, and loved the fighting style. “They must have loved everything about your plan.”
“Not my plan,” Luc said. “The Commander's plan.”
Ava gave a solemn nod. “Sorry. The Commander's plan.” She handed the apple back.
Luc took another bite, and then yawned.
“What time are we escaping?”
“Not tonight,” she said. She hadn't missed the stiff way he held himself, or the way some of his cuts had begun to seep through his bandages.
He tilted his head. “If the opportunity arises, take it. I will find the strength to keep up.”
She stared at him, then gave a nod. “There will be an opportunity tomorrow at mealtime. If you aren't ready by then, you must tell me. Better to try the day after than try and fail tomorrow.”
“Better to go as soon as possible than wait for them to come for me or you.”
She conceded his point with a nod. It was always on her mind, that any delay left her at risk of something worse than another day in the cell.
“I could have gone today,” she reminded him.
“I thank you for your generous heart.” He spoke formally, bowing his head.
Flustered, she stood and set the plate back on the small desk.
The window high on the wall above her bed was guarded by bars and it faced out of the castle, onto the forest side.
They had only a few minutes of light left.
She could only hope it was the last sunset she would ever see from this cell.
Chapter 2
She should have gone yesterday when she had the chance.
Ava stared with dread at the small entourage that filled the annex in front of her cell door.
They had come mid morning, around the time Banyon usually brought some bread and water for her.
They were here for Luc.
He had risen to a crouch from his blanket on the floor at the sound of footsteps approaching, and she slid down the door, out of sight of prying eyes, and gestured for him to lie down.
He stared at her for a long beat, and then lowered himself, curling in, as if he was in pain, eyes closed.
Ava slid to the side, then stood, walking to the far corner of her cell and wedging herself into it, as if trying to get as far from Luc as she could.
There was the rattle of a key at the door and then it banged open.
Luc didn't flinch, as she did, even though she'd known it was coming.
His control was spectacular, and then she remembered he'd been a Chosen for maybe as much as ten years, and she knew how hard he had come by that control.
“Princess.” Juni sneered at her, huddled in her corner. “What are you doing all the way over there?”
She said nothing.
“He been like this all night?” Garmand asked Banyon, who was standing behind them again.
Ava could see two other guards as well, lower in rank than Juni and Garmand, and obviously here to help control Luc.
“He hasn't moved.” Banyon leaned into the cell to look. “I got Ava to bandage him, seeing as you said he had to live.”
“He needs a fresh round of them, by the look of things.” Garmand stepped into the cell and looked down at the blood-soaked strips of sheet.
It looked bad, but Ava had checked a few times in the night, and they had almost all closed up.
Luc was still hot to the touch though.
If they did check his wounds under the bandages, they would see the stitching.
That would be bad.
Very, very bad.
She fought the cold chill of panic as Garmand gestured to the other guards, and they crowded into the small space, bent down and hauled Luc up.
He muttered something unintelligible and lifted his head slightly, then dropped it down again.
He didn't look at her. That was wise, but she was sorry for it. Their plans were in ruins.