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“We’ve got—” he starts to call down.
Before he can get out one more word, a well-built form with a topping of chocolate-brown curls launches up the ladder and springs at me.
Rheave catches me in his muscular arms and spins me around with his face pressed close to my hair. A rush of exhilaration sweeps through me as I hug him back.
“My little vine,” the daimon-man mutters with a rasp in his normally clear voice. “They tore you away from me.”
Casimir lets out a soft chuckle. “Be careful with her. She’s injured, you know.”
Rheave growls in consternation and pulls back to look at me, letting my feet return to the ground. As he takes in the bandage on my forehead, his lips draw back to bare his teeth. “Those bullies. When I get my hands on them…”
A swell of affection fills my chest. It’s only recently that I’ve accepted that my own intense fondness for Rheave goes beyond friendship, but there’s never been any denying how devoted he is to me.
I set my hand against his cheek. “I’m all right, especially now that I’m back with all of you. It’s good to see you too.”
The daimon-man makes a sound that’s almost pained. For a second, I think he’s going to dive in to kiss me, but then something flickers in his eerie sea-green eyes. His expression tightens as his grip on my arms loosens.
Maybe he’s only concerned that he’ll hurt me with his enthusiasm. I don’t have much time to ask about it, because Alek has just scrambled out of the underground room after him.
I’m just as delighted to be reunited with the scholar as my other men. As I turn toward him, my mouth stretching with an eager smile, he pulls me in against his lean frame.
He doesn’t hesitate to kiss me, as soundly as he knows how. “I knew they wouldn’t be able to hold you for long.”
All at once, I choke up again. “I wish they hadn’t been able to at all.”
Rheave grunts dismissively. “The scourge sorcery can control thousands of daimon all at once. How could any one person fight it off?”
When he puts it that way, the idea that I should have somehow broken Zaneta’s control does seem a little ridiculous. But that doesn’t stop me from hating what she put me through.
Stavros beckons me over to the hatch. “Let’s have the rest of this conversation down below where we can’t be spotted by anyone on patrol. I’d imagine Lothar has sent quite a lot of his available forces to search for both you and the royals he lost.”
He descends the ladder first, and I follow with trepidation creeping through my nerves. I’m about to face the two teenagers I nearly murdered, whether I had any say over my actions at that point or not.
When my feet hit the packed earth floor and I turn to peer through the lantern glow, my pulse hitches in surprise. Princess Klaudia and Prince Jacos are waiting there, sitting huddled together on one of the chests. Their dark brown hair and deep-set eyes remind me enough of their father’s to send another jolt of guilt through me.
But they’re not alone. Standing next to them is Petra, the distant niece of Queen Ishild’s who I wasn’t sure I’d ever see again after we left the college.
The royal siblings tense at the sight of me with a visible recoil. Princess Klaudia grasps Petra’s arm. “Are you sure?—”
“It’s all right,” Petra says in a soft voice. “I promise you, Ivy wouldn’t be here if we couldn’t trust her.”
I gape at her for a moment before finding my words. They tumble out of me more abruptly than I’d have preferred. “What are you doing here?”
The king and queen must have dozens of minor relatives. I have no idea why they’d have drawn Petra in close enough for her to have followed them to Regica.
She did make some effort to chat with me while we were both at the royal college, enough that I wondered if she was spying for King Konram. I never had that suspicion confirmed, though.
Come to think of it, she was with them during the attack on the Florian royal residence as well.
Did she come along because she was close at hand, and they wanted to protect every part of their family they could reach?
Stavros steps to the side as the other men descend after us and tips his head to Petra. “I think you’d better tell Ivy everything you told us. She’s completely out of the scourge sorcerers’ influence now. She killed the one who was controlling her.”
Petra clasps her olive-brown hands together in front of her. Her sleek black hair is pulled back from her face, but only in a loose bun, not one of the elaborate courtly styles. As elegant as her features are, the distant royal never followed fashion trends much even at the college.
“I’ve deceived you,” she says, her melodic voice not quite as steady as usual, “as I’ve deceived almost everyone for the past seven years… It was supposed to bring some security in a situation like this… But I suppose none of us could really have been prepared for this kind of attack…”
As my brow knits in confusion, she gives her curvy body a little shake as if to get herself back on track. Her chin comes up, and in her stance as in her looks I can see an echo of Queen Ishild.
