Trust me, Rayce. I could have, but I’ve made my choice.
I clear my throat and go back to cutting the ginger. “There’s no poison in it, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I wish I didn’t have to think that.” He wraps his hands tightly around the bottle and pockets it again, looking down at the fast work I’m making of the ginger. “I wanted to ask you something, but I haven’t figured out how.” He clears his throat. “Back when we were in the forest and you were cleaning my wound, you spoke about me being emperor, but I noticed that you hesitated at the end, and it made me wonder something. Do you not want us to win, Rose?”
My heart drops, my grasp on the knife slipping, and I let it crash onto the cutting board. My thoughts swirl like the flour usually does when we press our hands together to make honey crisp dough.
“It’s not that. I’m just worried about what comes after the end of the rebellion.” I sigh, gripping the table, and refuse to meet his gaze. “For the most part, I like our life here, Rayce, even with the difficulties of fighting a war. But in the past months, you’ve grown so busy with your responsibilities it makes me wonder what life will be like when you aren’t just the shogun, but the emperor. Will you even have time to cook anymore?”
The words I really want to ask, if he will still have time for me, dry out on my tongue, get lost in the splintered wood digging into my fingertips.
My voice comes out in a whisper. “I don’t want everything to change.”
His hand brushes against my cheek, his fingertips painting my skin red and sending chills down my spine. My breath catches and my heart pounds to keep up with my racing thoughts. He traces his thumb over the corner of my lips.
His voice is achingly soft. “Even if everything around us changes, the one thing that won’t change is the way I feel about you. I know things have been strained between us lately, and believe me when I say, I’m trying to get past it, but you broke my trust.” His hand falls from my face and he looks down at the table. “If you’re unsure about everything else, know that whatever happens in the future, it won’t change my mind about wanting to be near you.”
The things he whispers set a familiar fire burning in my chest, but even that flame isn’t enough to eat away at my insecurities. Even if we are able to figure out a way back to each other and somehow manage to win this war, there’s still the fact that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to lead. I can wield a sword pretty well now, can sneak into the smallest of places and face heights with no fear. But none of those things will help me stay by his side after the war’s over. Perhaps there could be a place for me in the guard once Rayce has taken the throne, delivering messages. I’d make a decent scout, Marin’s always said so. A smile touches my lips. That’s a life I could see myself living.
But will Rayce expect me to embrace my position as heir to the Varshan throne? Will he turn his face eastward toward my home and want to unite it like the ambitions of all the other Delmarion emperors before him?
My stomach drops and my head hangs low, too heavy to lift.
“And what comes after?” I whisper. “After we’ve won this war and everything is different? Will you require me to claim my crown?” I fight back my blurring vision. I won’t cry about this. “Because there isn’t a thing in this world that will make me ready for that.”
“I don’t believe that,” he says. “One day, I think you will be, and when that day comes, I will be right by your side.”
Everything in me breaks. I can still feel the hint of his lips pressed against mine, trying to find us back in the forest.
“I don’t know how you can say that.” I reach down and throw the ginger on the tray. “When everything already has changed between us.”
“It doesn’t have to,” he says. “If you can promise me that you won’t disobey my orders again.”
I stare him straight in the eyes. “You already made me promise not to lie. I can’t do both.”
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He leaves me in the place that used to bring us together, his words serving as a clear warning. Until I decide I was in the wrong, he won’t be able to trust me. Perhaps Arlo was right about more than one thing. Unless Rayce decides to share some blame, we are never going to be able to find our way back to each other.
Chapter Nineteen
The next four days Rayce meets me in the kitchen, keeping our conversation clipped, and escorts me to the Gardener’s cell. My world spins in a blurred performance of white rice, disapproving stares, and a rattling cough that keeps me up at night. Hopefully it keeps the Gardener up for longer.
Tonight, I stand in front of the tray in the kitchen, staring at the door for Rayce to come in. It’s twenty minutes past when he usually gets here, and the food has gone cold. My fingers tap out the seconds impatiently between the pop of the fire. A slow building whistle fills the air, and I walk over to grab the teakettle.
I set the kettle on the tray and pick it up with a sigh.
My mood darkens walking the long, cold hallway down to the cell alone. If I listen hard enough, I can almost trick my ears into hearing Rayce’s confident steps next to mine. After more than a week of coming down here, I recognize the older man on guard duty tonight. He gives me a soft smile, averting his eyes as he always does, and uncrosses his hands as he grabs the key from his key ring.
When he opens door, I shuffle through the room and place the food tray on the table, my gaze already shifting to the alcove the monster always frequents. His blood-splattered blanket sits balled up in the stony corner, but the Gardener is nowhere to be seen. My eyes whip around frantically, trying to pick through the darkness, which feels a lot thicker now that I know a predator lurks in it.
“What day is it today, my Rose?” His voice comes from my right, sending prickles down my arm.
I turn toward it and see him squatting beside the pool of water on the ground, his hands dripping. I blink and the water turns to blood running down his arms, covering the ground. My heart picks up and I take a step backward. I touch my hand to my throat, hearing the reassuring crunch of paper from my necklace. Oren’s voice.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he says. “Were you expecting me to still be sick from the poison in my food?” He punctuates his statement with a cough.
The rattling sound calms the panic swelling in my stomach.
My voice only shakes a little. “How did you know about that?”
“I believe I asked you a question first.” He rises from his place on the ground and takes a step forward.
I reach down, aiming to grab my stunner, catching nothing but air. I left it lying by my pack back in my room. Part of my stupid idea to prove to Rayce he could trust me. The cold tickle of the knife’s blade I always keep tucked in my boot slithers up my legs as I take another step back.
Swallowing the frigid air and my fear with it, I square my shoulders and look at him, forcing my face blank. Yet another performance I’ve been rehearsing for all my life.
“Why would I answer you, Jin?” I draw out his name into the space between us, my mouth twisting up in a smile.
“Do you think that name bothers me, Flower?” he asks. “Do you really think I would have sent the rebellion there if I had shame?”
“I think it bothers you more than you let on.” My voice borders on mocking. “And who could blame you? It must have been so embarrassing growing up in the shadow of Imperial City but never having its gates opened to you. It does explain why you were so desperate to make a deal with the emperor.”
He takes another step forward, coming into the light. His pockmarked face looks so much paler under the white beam, his tiny eyes ringed with dark bags and his thin lips cracking and dried. This is the shadow of the grossly confident showman that commanded his horror show with a mere look.
“Perhaps,” he says. “But I’m still willing to bet that when we are through with our little game, I’ll be the only one left standing.”
I
reach for where my stunner should be. “Tell me how you knew about the poison.”
“Why else would the shogun bring a doctor in here to examine me? It doesn’t take much to figure out that my illness was brought on when you started feeding me. Apparently my life is worth more to him than I knew.”
“Don’t kid yourself. Your life is only worth the information you give us, and we both know you’re running out.”
He arches a bushy eyebrow. “Are you so sure about that?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Yes, Jin, I am.”
He looks down at the tray I brought for him, the pile of cold sticky rice slumping over on itself. If his real name bothers him, he shows no sign of it. He picks up a wooden chopstick, bringing it up to his face and examining it closely.
“Tell me, do you think you’re a good actress, Rose?”
I tilt my head, trying to figure out what that question has to do with anything. He sneers at me like he used to before a performance, setting every nerve on end. “I have no idea what you’re up to, but whatever it is, it isn’t going to work.”
His eyes flicker to my face, a smile pulling apart his peeling lips. “Do you think you’re better than I am?” he asks. “Because I’ve always thought you were never very skilled at it. Your smile always felt forced during shows and no matter how much I tried to correct you by having your Wilted beat, you never did learn that lesson. You can act tough, but I will always see through you.”
“How about you stop talking now?”
He nods to the chopstick in his hand. “But I wonder how good you would be if you were going to lose everything.”
“What’re you going on about?”
As the words leave my mouth, the squeal of the iron bars behind me rings out in the air. I look over my shoulder, catch Rayce plunging into the darkness toward us. Small fingers grip my hand and I swing back around, trying to jerk away, but the Gardener’s grasp is much stronger than I remember. For a short second, I wonder what he’s doing until the sharp bite of wood presses against my palm right as he jams the pointed part of the chopstick into the fat in his shoulder. He lets out a sharp cry and my eyes widen as blood pours from the self-inflicted wound, sticky and warm on my skin.
“Sh-she attacked me!” he says, taking a step backward.
The thunder of footsteps behind me echoes with the Gardener’s cries and still my brain tries to catch up with what just happened.
“What?” I say. “No, I didn’t. You made me.”
“Did poisoning me not get the job done fast enough?”
“Rose, no!” Rayce’s voice booms behind me like thunder.
Arms wrap around my shoulders and yank me back. I don’t even strain against them, going completely rigid. I hold out my hands as if to show that I don’t have anything offensive on me, but the side of my left hand is covered in blood. Everything in my mind crawls to a stop. The last time I had the Gardener’s blood on my hands, I’d earned it, at least.
But this time, he played me. The only thing I can hope for now is that Rayce doesn’t fall into the same trap I just did.
“Rayce, I didn’t do this. It’s not what it looks like. I wouldn’t!”
Rayce’s gaze moves from my outstretched hands to the Gardener, who cowers a few feet away, his own hands wrapped around the chopstick in his shoulder, trying to catch the flow of blood oozing out of his self-inflicted wound.
Seeing Rayce turn to him, the Gardener speaks. “How am I ever supposed to trust in your word if you can’t control a simple girl?”
Anger rips through my body and I reach out to do real damage. I’ll happily take the blame for any injury I inflicted on him, and if Rayce said the word, I’d give him a real reason to fear for his own safety. I might as well now anyway.
“He’s lying!” I strain against Rayce’s grasp, but he tightens his arms around me. “I didn’t do that. He did! He stabbed himself to make it look like I attacked him. He’s trying to turn us against each other.”
“Why would I stab myself?” he asks, eyes questioning Rayce. He doesn’t even bother with me. I’m no longer his audience. Now I’m part of the act again. “That’s ridiculous. I’ve done nothing but help the rebellion since I’ve been here, and all I ask in return is to be protected. There was something important I was going to share in return for the Flower’s good behavior, a secret entrance into Imperial City, but you can forget about that.”
“Whatever you’re playing at, I will figure it out!” I jerk my shoulders, trying to escape Rayce’s grip. “I’m going to figure you out.”
“Enough!” Rayce yells, hauling me out of the light.
My boots drag across the stone floor as he practically carries me to the entrance. His tone tells me everything I need to know. He believes him. He would rather put his trust in the Gardener, in the monster that tormented me for years than the person he says he loves. And I pushed him into it. I stop struggling, going limp in his arms.
“Open the door.” The guard responds quickly to Rayce’s order. “We need first aid in there, right now.”
Footsteps pound the ground around me, shouts blurring together to make a symphony I have no energy to process. My mind is far too busy replaying the last few moments over and over again. Rayce moves us to the side and lets me go.
Arlo’s words echo around in my head louder than the self-pity, louder than the noise of the guards rushing to cater to the Gardener’s every whim.
Find some way to remind Rayce why he wanted to trust me in the first place.
I have to try. His eyes break me. They simmer with all the frustration I’ve caused him over the last few weeks.
“Rayce, please.” My voice comes out so much smaller than I mean it to. “Please listen to me, I know this looks bad, but I swear to you, I didn’t attack him.”
“I want to believe you.” He takes a deep breath. “You have no idea how badly I do, but you’ve made it clear you aren’t sorry about poisoning him or trying to stab him before. What makes this time any different?” He grabs my left hand and turns it to the side, revealing the blood on it. “You have his blood on your hands again.”
“Because he grabbed my hand and then stabbed himself. Don’t you see? This is what he wants. He wants us to split apart because we aren’t as strong individually as we are together. Are you really going to let him do that?”
My clean hand shakes as I reach out to touch his face, try to smooth the lines away on his forehead.
“Of course this isn’t what I want.”
The anger in his eyes quells as he stares at my hand inching toward him. A longing to run my fingers through his soft hair nearly overwhelms me. My fingertips brush against his cheek and he pulls away.
“But that isn’t the situation we’re in right now,” he says. “How many times do you expect me turn a blind eye to your behavior? I can’t keep doing this. People are beginning to talk. They think I’m giving you special treatment because of how I feel about you…and maybe I am, but it will start to lead to others testing their boundaries, perhaps in more dangerous ways.” His voice grows more strained, and he wipes his hand across his eyes. “Please, you have to stop this before people really begin to get hurt, or you’re going to force me to start treating you like an enemy. I’ll have no choice.”
His words are boulders. My hand falls away. “You can’t be serious. What can I do to make you believe me that I’m telling you the truth? I didn’t attack him.”
“We’ll discuss this later. Just…just go.” He grimaces, turning on his heel. “Right now, I have to go apologize to my prisoner…again, and pray to whichever of the five gods are listening that he will give us information on that secret entrance.”
The Gardener made me stab him because he wants something more than trying to weasel his way in between us. I’m sure that’s part of his goal, but that can’t just be it. The Gardener’s never been the type to sacrifice himself, and throwing in the secret entrance to Imperial City was particularly devious. What’s his angle?
“No, this is what he wants.” My voice comes out high and squeaky. “Whatever he says, you can’t trust him. He’s trying to trick us. Please, Rayce, I don’t want you to fall into a trap. Regardless of what you think about me right now, I know that monster’s mind games better than anyone, and whatever he says will be a danger to you and your people.”
Silence stretches out, accentuating every inch of the space between us. We’re standing on separate cliffs, but at this point, even if I lean out on my toes and reach, the only way we’ll be able to find each other is if he meets me halfway.
Come on, Rayce.
His head slumps toward the floor. “You used to believe it was our people. You considered yourself part of this rebellion. And now I can’t help but wonder if you aren’t the real danger to us, Rose, because every action you’ve taken since the desert has been an effort to sabotage us.”
And just like that I’m falling.
“That was never my intention and you know it. I have always—”
My voice gets drowned out as Suki, the guard who shoved a stunner in my face the first time I ever entered the base, rushes into the room, her large eyes searching frantically as she calls out Rayce’s name. She holds up a rolled parchment, the green seal broken.
“Over here,” Rayce says.
Her gaze whips around toward his voice and she waves the parchment. “We have vital intel from Shing.”
Arlo?
I want to see what Arlo has to report, but I don’t think Rayce would take too kindly to my reading over his shoulder, considering he just accused me of betraying the entire rebellion.
Rayce hurries over to Suki, taking the parchment, and they begin to speak in hushed tones, heading back into the hall.
The sound of his boots echoing as he walks away fills my head. I leaned over that cliff, trusted he would, too, and now all that’s left are the jagged rocks below. I’ve never been afraid of heights until this moment. For me, the physical act of standing on the edge of something was only the beginning, but that’s because I’d never fallen from this high before. Home, family, love…it all slips through my fingers like sand even as I foolishly reach out for Rayce’s turned back.
War of the Wilted Page 18
