Page 61 of Hearts Lost

ALOSERIN

TAKING MY LEAVE

My chest heaves as I walk across the courtyard, trying desperately not to limp as pain flares somewhere deep inside my right leg. Running the entire barrier garden this morning was pushing it, I know, but here I am. And I might not be the Acting Captain of the Royal Guard any longer, but I’m still not about to limp in public.

I reach the pump in the far corner of the training courtyard, crank it, and then stick my head under the flow. The water is bracingly cold; I hiss as it traces icy rivers through my hair and down my neck. I pull back long enough to yank off my shirt, which at this point is so disgusting it should probably just be burned, and then I stick my head under the water again.

Every muscle in my body aches. I can feel my heartbeat throbbing in my teeth. I trained hard yesterday, drank too much of the Officers’ Mess brandy last night, and then decided to reward my lovely brandy hangover with a brutal run through the entire Crystal City barrier garden this morning. Right now my body feels like it’s trying to kill me from the inside out.

Well, fine. Fuck that asshole.

“Aloserin?”

I turn around, use my filthy shirt to wipe water from my eyes, and find Orryen standing by the water pump and giving me the kind of smile he usually gives someone who’s in serious trouble. Something in my gut twists with fear, even though I know better.

I know she’s fine. I saw her yesterday, when I pulled my sleep magic from her mind as gently as possible. When I knotted my hands into fists to keep from pushing that rebellious curl of hair out of her eyes.

“She’s fine,” Orryen says, because apparently I’m an open book.

My shoulders relax, and I hate it.

“Tea?” Orryen asks.

I nod, yank my disgusting shirt back over my head, and then pull my stiff, aching body across the courtyard and up the stairs to the neat little room that used to be my office. The perennial stack of ledgers is messier now, spread out all across the table, and already the room feels warmer, more inviting. Orryen pulls a kettle off the grate, pours me a cup of tea, and then sits down at the desk. My legs scream as I sink into the chair opposite him; for a heartbeat, I wonder if I’m going to be able to get back up.

“Ithronel was very cooperative,” Orryen says, looking at his mug of tea as if there were something fascinating in its murky brown depths.

“Great,” I reply, through gritted teeth.

Of course, he’d want to talk about this. Orryen has always been a big fan of talking.

“She only had one condition,” he continues.

I lean forward, pulled in despite myself.

“She agreed to work with us only so long as you were safe,” Orryen finishes, and there’s a little twist to his voice that suggests he’s finding all this amusing.

I snort into my tea. “So you implied otherwise, I take it?”

Orryen shrugs and smiles.

“We asked her how long you’d been working for King Grathgore,” he says.

“Asshole,” I snap. “I’ve never worked for Grathgore.”

“I know,” Orryen answers, with a grin.

“You manipulative son of a bitch,” I snarl.

Orryen holds his hands up in front of his chest as if he’s proving he’s unarmed.

“Hey, you would have done the same thing,” he says. “We needed to know where her loyalties lie. And apparently, they lie with you.”

My gut churns around the bitter tea I’ve swallowed; I grit my teeth against the hot press of bile in the back of my throat.

“Great,” I manage to choke out.

Orryen’s watching me like he expected better out of me, and for a moment anger flares in my chest, hot and bright. It’s gone almost as soon as it appears, leaving me feeling exhausted and useless, like I’ve left the best parts of myself buried somewhere deep inside the void.