Page 37 of Aryn

I sit up a little taller. “What the fuck?”

He nods, still staring at the sky. “We are trained warriors, but we value life. They… did not. Those who fought were killed, until there were very few of us left. Aside from those kept in the castles, my kind were largely extinct.”

My stomach clenches at the image of Aryn subdued and defeated. I must react, because his eyes meet mine in question. “That was before, though, right?” I ask. “You weren’t…”

“No,” he insists. “This was long before my time. Thousands of years ago.”

“What happened to them?”

“Eventually? They stopped fighting and accepted their place in society. Made a life as best they could. For hundreds of years, we were spread out through every castle in the realm. If you look at old paintings and tapestries, you’ll often see a Dreven waiting in the wings, ready to serve.”

My stomach tightens at the thought. “That’s fucking terrible.”

“It is,” he agrees, “But, as it always seems to go… one day, someone had enough.”

“Let me guess, that was Kuu?”

He nods. “She was born into that life at one of the smaller castles, but wanted more for her people. She worked her way up the ranks and made herself known to be the best courtesan in the lands. Rulers started demanding her presence, until news of her… skills reached the high leader. Naturally, he wanted her for himself.”

“Naturally,” I agree bitterly, clenching my fists inside their gloves.

“She was moved to the capital and became his personal companion. She spent years pleasing him… years pretending to be perfectly subservient. Eventually, his guard lowered, and she was allowed more freedoms than the others.”

I roll my eyes. “Men are always defeated by their dicks.”

He chuckles as he settles deeper into his bag. “It does seem that way, doesn’t it? Once she knew she wasn’t being watched, she collected supplies in secret and snuck them to the other courtesans. She used her freedom to map exits from the castle, and found a way they could all escape. There was a passage that was hidden by shadows during the new moon. They waited for the right night, and when the leader was finished with her, she slit his throat.”

I cough a surprised laugh at the unconcerned way he says it. “Simple as that, huh?”

A small, amused smile tugs at his lips. “We tell it in sentences and minutes instead of years of careful planning, so yes, it does sound simple. After Kuu killed him, she covered his body in the bed to make it look as though he was sleeping, then tucked the knife in her skirt. She returned to the courtesan quarters with nothing more than the weapon and a single lantern. According to legend, as she led the others to freedom, the leader’s blood was still dripping from her hands. It covered the lantern and gave the light a pink glow.” He gestures at the moon. “This is why Kuu shines so brightly in the night. It is why she leads us for the hours she is in the sky.”

“What happened to the other courtesans?” I ask. “The ones in the other castles and towns.”

“Our people fled into the mountains. They formed a village there and devoted their lives to discipline and training. She spent her entire life rescuing our kind. If not for her, we’d either be enslaved or extinct. It’s said the Fates rewarded her when she died, allowing her to take her place among the skies. There, she keeps watch over those she saved.”

“That village…” I start, then trail off. “That’s the one we’re headed to? The village you grew up in?”

“Observant,” he says. “It is. According to the records, I am descended from Kuu, though many, many generations removed. Last I was here, my lineage was considered the old family.”

“Damn,” I say with a huff. “Do you think it’s still there?”

A deep breath fills his lungs as his eyes close, and the pink light from the moon fades until he’s barely visible in the darkness. “That village survived the very worst this world has to offer. It brought an entire race freedom and gave us purpose. It has to still be there.”

“It will be,” I say, with so much conviction it forces his eyes back to mine. “And we’re going to make it there.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Bet,” I challenge. “We prepared for this, remember?”

“We did,” he agrees.

Silence falls between us as we both snuggle into our bags. Quiet conversation drifts our way from the others, but I’m not paying attention. My belly is full and I’m warm for the first time since we arrived. Still, sleep doesn’t come right away. I find myself glancing over at Aryn again and again, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way the faint moonlight traces the line of his jaw.

After a long stretch of quiet, I speak, voice low. “You know, you would’ve done the same thing.” He doesn’t open his eyes, but his brows lift in question. “Led the others away from danger. You like to pretend otherwise, but you’d play the hero, too.”

A tiny smile tugs at his lips. “I’ll leave the glory to you, Cato,” he murmurs.

Something pulls in my chest at the sleepy way he says my name, and the quiet steadiness and goodness he doesn’t feel a need to broadcast. It’s the kind of calm I’ve never had—never trusted, really. People like me don’t get soft things like that. We take what we can get in the dark and move on before it can be taken away.