Page 85 of To Save a Kingdom

If she managed to score a Whisperer, and assuming she trusted Princess to have distributed the earplugs to the elven captives as they’d planned, perhaps she could use it to take care of Brooks. That would fix the situation up right nicely.

But first…

She turned to Roland. “Where’d ya put Elsan?”

Tsara stepped forward. “I can show you.”

Chapter 33

Zadé

The sun was a finger-width lower in the sky as Tsara led Zadé to a tent in the middle of the elven camp outside the city. There was a guard stationed at each corner, like they expected Elsan to cut his way out of the back canvas or something. Even though there was no way Roland hadn’t disarmed him before tossing him in there.

But whatever. With the princess at her side, none of the guards would dare challenge Zadé.

She strode to the entrance with a confidence she didn’t have, but she’d been correct—the sentries didn’t bat an eye as she sauntered past. At a snap of Tsara’s fingers, they marched away.

There were benefits to being the general, and in the company of royalty, after all. Who would’ve thought?

Elsan was leaning against the pole in the middle of the tent, slumped over, his hands tied behind his back.

“Elessan!” Tsara breezed by Zadé, falling to her knees in front of him. Taking his arms, she shook him.

Valek. Whoever struck Elsan and knocked him out must’ve hit him hard. He’d be lucky not to end up permanently damaged like she’d been.

Circling him, Zadé bent and examined the knots securing his wrists. They were tight enough they were digging into his skin, turning his fingers purple. She rolled her eyes and sighed. One of the downsides of being so intimidating was people tended to go overboard with their restraints.

She worked the bindings loose, the fibers from the rough weave jabbing beneath her fingernails.

The ropes fell away. Elsan slumped forward. Princess Tsara caught him.

Working her way in a circle until she could see his face, Zadé pulled her hand back and slapped him across the cheek. “Elsan! Wake up!”

“Hey!” Tsara shoved her away.

Zadé tumbled to the ground as Elsan blinked. His gaze was unfocused as he stared into the distance. “Elsan!” She tapped his arm.

He turned his blurry eyes to her. “Zadé?” His forehead furrowed.

Blast it. She scooted around and brushed his hair away to examine at the lump on the back of his head. It was bigger than her thumb, and should be seen by a healer, but they didn’t have time. Bastard King Roland likely wouldn’t allow it, anyways.

“Shake it off, Elsan. It’s just a little head bump. Princess needs our help.”

“Princess?” His gaze swung between her and Tsara.

“Not her!” Zadé grabbed his chin and tilted his face so they were eye-to-eye. “Aliya! Brooks has her ‘n he’ll kill her if’n he figures out who she is!”

“Now, wait a minute.” Tsara spun on Zadé, her eyes flashing silver as her face contorted in rage. She ripped Zadé’s hand off Elsan’s arm and tried to push her away.

But Zadé had a lot more hand-to-hand combat experience than Tsara, and the move only made her muscles tense as an invisible vice clenched around her ribcage. She was so done with spoiled royals who bullied their way into getting what they wanted, who didn’t understand the meaning of the word no or when to stand back and let the adults do the talking.

Keeping her weight low, Zadé spun on her heel, using the force of her turn to land a vicious backhand across Tsara’s cheek.

The other woman’s eyes went round, her hand going to her face as if she could press away the pain. Tsara’s jaw dropped. “How dare you!”

“Me?” Zadé stepped forward, jamming her finger into Tsara’s sternum hard enough to knock her on her ass. “How dare you! I don’t know whatcha did ta convince yer father ta letcha marry Elsan here, but whatever it was, you’ve been nothin’ but vile since yer father’s arrived and I’m sick of it. Yer gunna help me free Princess—” She caught herself. “Aliya, ‘cuz that is the least yeh can do after the shit yeh’ve pulled here.”

Tsara blinked at her, jaw lax.