Dorcas’s expression revealed nothing except slight irritation, which was nothing new when he was looking at Froi.

‘Tell your guard to stay,’ Zabat ordered Dorcas.

‘Zabat?’ Froi asked, pretending hurt. ‘Do you not trust me?’

Dorcas ignored them both and looked back towards the guard. ‘Did you disarm him?’

‘He wasn’t armed, Sir.’

Zabat’s expression was disbelieving. ‘Search him again. Be careful. He’ll go for your weapon.’

Froi held out his arms impassively as he was thoroughly searched for a second time, his eyes never leaving those of Rafuel’s traitorous messenger.

‘I’m praying for your sake that you haven’t betrayed your brothers in the valley, Zabat,’ he said.

‘And why is that?’

‘Because I’ll have to kill you. It’s part of my bond.’

Zabat had the good sense to look nervous.

‘A smart man chooses the side with more might, but if it’s any consolation, we all work for the good of Charyn,’ he said.

The fool looked to Dorcas and the two guards, pleased with his words. They ignored him.

‘Leave,’ Dorcas ordered Froi. ‘Take Lirah of Serker with you. We have no quarrel with Lumatere, if it is true that’s where you’re from. Tell your people to keep out of our affairs.’

‘Why can’t I take her with me, Dorcas?’ Froi said, pointing to Quintana. ‘She’s worthless.’

‘My orders are to return the Princess to Bestiano. It is imperative that she explains the truth of the curse after all these years of deceit, so the true lastborn girls of Charyn can do what they were born to do. It is the role of the riders to keep Charyn secure.’

Dorcas spoke as if he was reciting the original order he had been given.

‘Was it your sword that killed Tariq of Lascow?’ Froi asked. ‘Did you follow the order to kill him? Kill all those innocent people in his compound?’

‘If I was there, I would have followed orders,’ Dorcas said. ‘But I was sent here. Regardless, I am comforted by the idea that Bestiano brought to justice those who were responsible for planning the murder of our king. The kills were said to be quick and clean.’

‘You weren’t there because you’re nothing to them, Dorcas,’ Froi said forcefully. ‘You’ve been assigned to run after a useless Princess. You weren’t there because Bestiano and his riders don’t want you to know the truth. That according to the Provincari, Bestiano killed the King.’

‘The Provincari have their own reasons to lie,’ Dorcas snapped, and for once Froi saw his uncertainty.

‘The riders murdered the rightful heir, Dorcas,’ he continued. ‘The only man who could bring justice to Charyn. And you would have done the same because you’re a fool who doesn’t know how to do anything but follow orders.’

‘Bonds? Orders? What’s the difference?’ Zabat interrupted. ‘Your orders are the same, Lumateran.’

‘In any case,’ Dorcas snapped. ‘Bestiano’s fight is not with foreigners. It is with the men who planned the murder. So I ask you again to leave and take Lirah of Serker with you. We’re not the street lords. We have no intention of slaughtering without reason.’

‘How will the seed be planted?’ Quintana asked coldly from the cot.

Everyone turned to stare.

‘So the true lastborn girls of Charyn can do what they were born to do?’ she repeated his words. ‘Who will fight to be the sire? Will it be Bestiano? Will the riders gather up the girls for him, Dorcas? Will you be reduced to that? Will you kill the fathers who fight to keep their daughters safe?’

Dorcas looked away, uncomfortable.

‘Are you envious, Reginita?’ Zabat spat out the words. ‘Isn’t that what you call yourself? Are you envious because your father did not fight for your safety?’

She shook her head. ‘Just dismayed that the lie we told these years past was futile.’

Zabat’s smile was of unpleasant satisfaction.

‘So here is the truth. Was I not always right when no one else would believe me? The Reginita, she claimed to be. The little Queen.’ He looked at Froi. ‘How many years did we waste listening to her tell the people that she was the only one amongst the lastborns who could break the curse?’

Froi looked at Quintana. He didn’t know what to believe.

‘Nothing in the curse said that I would give birth to the firstborn,’ she said, her voice cool. ‘Just that it would be the last who would do so. But I made sure my father gave a royal decree that only the Reginita and a lastborn male would break the curse. Myself and Tariq, my betrothed, the rightful heir. Anyone else who dared try would be defying the gods. My father was forced to believe me. The King had offended the gods in two kingdoms by then, and no one feared them more than he did.’

‘Why would you tell such a lie?’ Dorcas asked.

‘Why do you think, Dorcas?’ she said sadly. ‘Because I grew up in the palace and had come to understand the baseness of a man’s heart. They branded the lastborn girls on our thirteenth day of weeping. Tariq and I knew what that meant. My mother Lirah was sold in her thirteenth year. Do you honestly think the branding was for any other reason but to destroy the bodies and spirits of young girls destined to produce the first?’

Zabat’s expression was ugly.

‘You made up a story to win your father’s attention. Because he despised his abomination,’ Zabat said.

Lirah stood and glared at Zabat, who took a step back. She indicated Froi with a toss of her head. ‘He will kill you, fool. Mark my words. I saw him maim four of De Lancey’s men in the godshouse in the blink of an eye.’

The second rider was nervous, staring from the women to Froi. Dorcas looked at Froi uneasily, a film of perspiration on his brow.

‘Search him again,’ he said.

‘Let him go,’ Quintana sighed, dismissing Froi with a wave of her hand. ‘He’s no threat to you or Bestiano. He was sent to end my life, not yours or my father’s. That is the truth. He admitted it to me himself.’

She stood and the riders stepped towards her. Fear was in the room. Even in Quintana’s eyes. Froi saw it there, combined with fury, and it was directed his way.

‘But I want to speak to him first,’ she said. ‘To say that although you’ve betrayed me, Lumateran, I want you to know that those gifts you left me in that little treasure chest with the fan bird etched in its stone are ones that I will always carry in my heart.’

Froi fought hard to conceal every thought that ran through his mind. Every emotion. The thrill and satisfaction that came with the knowledge of what she was trying to tell him.

He looked at Dorcas. He needed to buy time.

‘This is not my fight,’ he said after a pause.

Dorcas nodded, pleased. Relieved.

‘Good to hear. Don’t ever let me see you in these parts again, Lumateran.’

Froi turned to walk away and then stopped.

‘Can I …’ Froi looked down, pretending awkwardness. ‘Can I bid her farewell?’ He leaned close to Dorcas. ‘I did share her bed,’ he whispered, ‘and I did lose a bit of my heart to her. Or to one of those who live inside of her, anyway.’

Dorcas stared from Froi to Quintana and nodded. ‘Make it quick.’

Froi joined her where she stood beside the cot. He took her hands and felt where she had concealed the daggers he’d buried in the cave. He was impressed with the way the scabbards were perfectly placed.

‘Did I ever call you useless?’ he asked softly.

‘Three times,’ she said, her tone sour.

‘Three times, you say?’

‘Yes, we tend to count the amount of times we’re called useless by one person. Bestiano made mention of it thirty-seven times.’

‘My, my, you do have a good memory for details.’

She nodded. ‘And I do believe you referred to me as worthless moments ago.’

He rubbed her palm intimately and then placed his hands on both her shoulders, feeling the scabbard across her shoulder.

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