No. But soldiers do. Even soldiers who are princes.
“My father bred horses,” I said as an explanation. “It’s the way I grew up. He said horses return twofold to a rider how they are treated. I’ve always found it to be true.”
“You’re still disturbed by what you saw.”
The three impaled heads churned in my thoughts. I paused from my brushing. “No.”
“Your strokes are long and brisk. Your eyes shine like cold steel when you’re angry. I am getting to know your face well, Emissary.”
“It was savage,” I conceded, “but what you do with your traitors is of no concern to me.”
“You don’t execute traitors in your kingdom?”
I rubbed the horse’s muzzle. “Done, boy,” I said and closed the stall. “We don’t defile bodies. Your Assassin appears to elevate it to an art.” I started to return the brush to the hook but stopped mid-step. Calantha turned to see what I was looking at.
It was Lia.
The shoulder of her shirt was torn, and her face pale. With Calantha there, I had to pretend I didn’t care. Lia avoided my gaze and spoke only with Calantha, telling her the Komizar was waiting outside, and she had come to retrieve her cloak, which she had left behind this morning. Had Calantha seen it?
Calantha cast a pointed glance at me, then directed Lia to the back wall of the stable and a row of hooks. “I’ll be outside waiting too,” she said.
“You don’t have to go,” I said, but she was already leaving.
Lia walked carefully past me, her eyes averted, and lifted her cloak from the hook.
“We’re alone,” I whispered. “Your shoulder. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “It was just a difference of opinion on clothing choices.”
And then I noticed a bruise at her temple. I reached up and pushed her hair away. “What did—”
“I tripped against a table,” she said hurriedly, brushing my hand away. “Ignore it.”
She kept her voice low, her attention fixed on the cloak in her hands. “We have to find a way out of here. When Kaden returns, if I—”
I pulled her into the stall. “Don’t tell him anything.”
“He’s not like the rest of them, Rafe. He might listen if—”
I jerked her closer. “Listen to me,” I hissed. “He’s as savage as any of them. I saw his handiwork today. Don’t say—”
She yanked free and her cloak fell to the ground. “Stop telling me what to do or say! I’m tired of everyone trying to control every word out of my mouth!”
Her eyes shimmered, with fear or rage—I wasn’t sure which. What had happened today?
“Lia,” I said, speaking more softly, “this morning I saw one of—”
“Is the emissary holding you up?” The Komizar stood at the stable entrance.
We both took an awkward step back. “I was just retrieving her cloak. She dropped it.”
“Clumsy, aren’t we, Princess? But you’ve had a long, tiresome day.” He ambled closer. “How about you? Did you enjoy your tour today, Emissary?”
I worked to keep my voice even and unimpressed. “The Stonegate quarter had some interesting avenues, I suppose.” And then for Lia’s benefit, “I also saw your Assassin’s handiwork. The impaled heads of the boys he executed have grown quite ripe in the sun.”
“That’s the point. The stench of treachery—it has its own unique aroma—one not easily forgotten.”
He reached out and took Lia’s arm with a familiarity I hadn’t seen before and led her away. I couldn’t control the burn in my chest, but I turned back to the horse as if I didn’t care, brushing his coat again with long, quick strokes. This was something I’d never been trained for. There were no military strategies or drills to prepare me for the daily torment of not killing someone.