Resistance (Ilyon Chronicles Book 1) (32 page)

He turned away from the stream with a scowl and settled in to wait out the long night.

K
yrin pressed her palms into her eyes with a groan and then pulled her blankets up over her head. If only she could hide in their folds for the rest of the day. The tension that squeezed her neck and shoulders before bed had grown into a full-blown stress headache and made her a little nauseous. She’d barely slept, though the headache wasn’t entirely to blame. Thoughts of Davira, the emperor, and Daniel would not allow her any peace. That last look of suspicion in the princess’s cold, penetrating eyes still made her heart seize. She tried to convince herself she was just hypersensitive and overreacting, but it did little good.

She sighed in the warm darkness under the blankets. Secure though it seemed, she couldn’t hide. The day awaited, and she must face it. Holly would be along anytime now to help her dress. In desperate need of strength, Kyrin slipped out of bed, dropped to her knees, and rested her heavy head against the mattress.

“I’m surrounded, Elôm,” she murmured. “I’m surrounded by those who don’t know You and would harm me if they learned of my trust in You. I’m afraid they already might suspect me. I don’t want to be afraid…but I am. Oh, please give me courage. I want to live bravely for You, but I’m weak. I cower under the threat of discovery.” She bit her lip, stung by the memories of what happened in the library. “I’m sorry I keep failing. Please help me better serve You.”

The doorknob turned, and Kyrin jumped up. Holly entered the room.

“Good morning, my lady,” she said sweetly.

Her kindness brought a smile to Kyrin’s face, yet it died with one thought. How many opportunities had she wasted to speak with her
maid about Elôm?

“Good morning,” she murmured, though distracted by her shortcomings.

Holly paused on her way to the wardrobe. “Are you all right, my lady?”

Kyrin shrugged and scolded the tightness at the back of her throat. “I’m afraid I have a rather painful headache.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Let me help you dress and then I’ll get you some tea for that.”

Kyrin managed another smile in thanks.

Holly helped her into one of her dresses and then excused herself for a few minutes to fetch a cup of tea. Kyrin used this time to pull herself together. She had no such luxury as to break down whenever something went wrong. Not here.

When Holly returned with the pleasantly fragrant brew, she said, “This always helps me.”

“Thank you.”

Kyrin took the cup and sat down at the dressing table to sip it while Holly worked on her hair. The silence hummed in Kyrin’s ears. She raised her cup to her lips, dismayed at how her hand trembled.
Help me
. She took a shallow breath and set the cup down.

“Holly?”

“Yes, my lady?”

“Do you ever
…think much about…faith?”

The space between Holly’s brows scrunched up in a delicate frown. “Faith? I’m not sure, my
lady. I mean, I go to the temple every day to pray just like we’re supposed to, but…”

Kyrin waited and watched her reflection.

“I’m afraid I can’t say too many of my prayers have been answered.” Holly shrugged. “I suppose I’m pretty insignificant to Aertus and Vilai.”

But not to the real God
. Kyrin closed her eyes a moment to pray again. Dare she say it? Should she make known exactly what she believed?

Right as she opened her mouth to speak, the door swung open, and Lady Videlle bustled in. Kyrin snapped her mouth shut and swallowed her disappointment.

“Well, you have a big day,” Videlle announced without so much as a
good morning
. “The emperor has requested your presence at his dinner tonight.”

Kyrin looked up at her as best she could without bothering Holly’s work. “Dinner?”

“Yes, yes, his dinner with the surrounding lords and governors.”

Kyrin fought a groan. Her head pounded harder already.

The sky hung low with gray clouds and sent a damp chill through the forest. Jace pulled his blanket tighter around his shoulders, but his bedroll still lay beside him, unused. Tyra yawned and stretched before gazing up at him. She was probably hungry. He hung his head and sat still for another few minutes. His eyes slid closed a number of times before he jerked back to full awareness.

Enough of this. He pushed stiffly to his feet and hissed out a breath through his teeth at the pain that stabbed his chest. He lifted his shirt and touched cool fingers to the dark, mottled bruising across his ribs. Even a light touch burned, but he didn’t think they were broken. He tugged his shirt back into place and motioned to Tyra. Together, they trudged back to camp.

The campfire crackled and glowed ahead of them, a welcome sight on a chilly morning, but the men around it created a barrier he had no desire to overcome. Whenever they caught his eye, they looked down, their faces somber. The usual silence surrounded them.

Hardened against it, Jace took a small helping of breakfast and moved off to sit near the tent, where he ate without tasting. He spared only a brief glance when Rayad joined him with breakfast plate in hand.

“How are you this morning?”

Jace shrugged. Pain was pain. He was used to it. He brought a small bite of fried potatoes to his mouth, but his tender and swollen jaw worked slowly. After only a few more bites, he lost interest and gave the rest of his food to Tyra.

“You should eat more,” Rayad said in a conversational tone.

“I’m not hungry,” Jace muttered. He had no appetite these days. What was the point?

Rayad stared down at his own food and didn’t eat much either. The silence drew out between them and grew uncomfortable.

“I think I should leave.”

Rayad’s eyes flashed to him. “What?”

Jace stared down at his hands. It was too difficult to speak while looking him in the eyes. “Why stay? I’m not doing any good here.”

“Just give it more time. We’ve been here less than a week. Things just need time to settle.”

Jace shook his head. What would time do?
Maybe the men would grow accustomed to his presence, but would they ever fully trust him? No. He’d live on the edge of their group, not a stranger, but never truly a member. He couldn’t live like that.

Rayad breathed out slowly, voice tired and ragged. “Jace, you’re a man now. If what you want is to set out on your own, then I’ll let you go. But if it’s grief and this camp driving you away, then I’m going with you.”

“No,” Jace replied firmly and managed to look at him. “You’re needed here.”

“So are you.”

Jace let out a short, hollow laugh. He wasn’t needed anywhere. “No, I’m not.”

The pained look in Rayad’s eyes forced him to turn away again.

“You’re valuable to this group. The men just have to come to realize it.”

“Not if Holden has anything to say about it.”

Jace rose to his feet to fight the heaviness building inside him. Emotions brought nothing but more pain. He needed to be alone, to harden, to protect himself.

“I think we have to cut him a little slack,” Rayad told him. “He’s been through more than you know.”

Jace looked down and let his voice flow from behind the cold walls inside him. “I don’t blame Holden. I do have the blood of a monster.”

Rayad pushed to his feet, determined to make Jace see it wasn’t true, but the young man turned away and headed for the trees. Rayad called to him, twice, but he would not turn back. When he disappeared into the forest, Rayad sank down with a groan and scrubbed his hands over his face, tired of the
whole sorry situation.

“What can I do, Lord?”

If only the clouds would open with an answer to that. But they remained gray and dark, just like his mood. He didn’t like powerlessness any more than Jace did.

“Are you all right?”

Rayad lifted his eyes to Warin as his friend came and sat across from him. He released a broken sigh. “What do you do when someone is giving up? How are you supposed to help when they just won’t listen?”

Warin slowly shook his head, unable to provide an answer either. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you to join us.”

“No,” Rayad murmured. The true guilt rested inside him. “If anyone is to blame, it’s me. I know Jace. I should’ve known better than to drag him into this.”

He grimaced, reluctant to voice his fears, though he knew them to be true. “I’m afraid one of these days he’ll go off and won’t come back. Then I’ll lose him for good. He only stays because of me, but soon, I don’t think even that will be enough.”

Kyrin scrutinized herself in the mirror. Instead of her usual gold dress and black vest, Lady Videlle had chosen something more elaborate for tonight—a deep scarlet, off-the-shoulder gown of shimmering satin and black lace. Certainly the most elegant dress she’d ever worn, but she made a face when no one was looking. The neckline dropped much too low for her comfort. Collin had better not catch a glimpse of her. Yet, even at this, Lady Videlle wasn’t satisfied. She chattered again about needing to have the dresses altered.

Kyrin ignored her and continued to ponder her reflection. Her cosmetics were different tonight as well. Holly had replaced the normal blue on her eyelids with a thick layer of rich, cherry brown and painted her lips deep red like her dress. Combined with the exquisite hairstyle accented by a couple of red roses, she looked nothing like herself.