Page 11 of Wild Flame (Wild Bond #2)

Chapter Eleven

L ater that afternoon, Zara arrived to invite me to visit the Healing Pools with her. I readily accepted, though I had no idea what a healing pool was.

Astrid offered to come with me, and I shot her a questioning look. “You will need someone to attend you,” she said by way of explanation as she draped my robe over her arm.

The Healing Pools turned out to be a collection of heated stone pools that resembled the bathhouses I was familiar with in Halmar. Though these were much larger. Zara explained that different potions and ointments had been added to each pool. Some were meant to relax the mind and heal the body, while others were beneficial for the hair or skin.

When we arrived, our guards stood watch outside, and I saw we weren’t alone. Sura, Priya, and a few other women were already present. I smiled at all of them when they greeted me, and if Priya’s smile was a little forced, that was for me to know.

“There is a screen just there where you can get changed.” Zara motioned to it as she spoke. “Join us when you’re ready.”

I was touched she had thought to do that out of consideration for me. For I knew it was not due to her or any of the other women’s desire for privacy. My guess was proven correct when she immediately disrobed and climbed into the pools completely nude. I fought not to blush as I went behind the screen and removed everything but my shift.

There was no way I would ever be comfortable enough to disrobe completely, especially not when they would see my scars. As it was, it felt odd to even have my lower legs and arms bare. Handing my gown to Astrid, I stepped out from behind the screen and was grateful when no one commented on my choice of attire.

When I finally sank below the warm water, I sighed, sitting on the stone seat carved along one side and leaning back against the stone.

I noticed that none of the riders’ dragons were present, and when I asked, Zara explained that their sensitive noses didn’t like the many competing scents surrounding us.

Attendants came to wash our hair in a milk and honey mixture as we soaked, massaging our scalps and shoulders as well. It felt odd to take out my braids entirely, but since it was only women here, I told myself it was fine. All the while we talked and laughed, and I drank it all in. Though, admittedly, they did most of the talking and laughing while I listened.

Was this what it was like to have female friends? I wasn’t sure. I had little experience with friendship other than Helene . . . and Leif when I was younger.

The other women in my father’s court mostly avoided me. They weren’t rude to me since I was their princess, but most people gravitated towards Helene. I didn’t begrudge her that, either. I loved her, and she included me whenever possible, but I didn’t exactly make it easy for her. I much preferred observing people and the conversations around me than taking part in them. This, combined with the fact that people were naturally more cautious around me because of my reclusive reputation, all made it hard for me to find common ground with any of the women at court.

“If I may ask,” I started, addressing Sura when there was a natural lull in the conversation, “is there any significance to the marking on your wrist?” She had a tree of some kind running along the inner wrist of her left arm. She bore no other tattoos save for her rider mark, a tattoo that all riders received on their upper arm when they passed the trials and were no longer trainees. I hadn’t noticed the tree marking when I met her, probably because it was covered by the wrist braces of her riding leathers, and I was curious. I had seen several other people—all Zehvitian—with similar markings, noble and commoner alike, though each was slightly different. However, none of the other women in the pool had one.

Sura glanced down at her wrist, and her stern features softened ever so slightly before she answered. “It is my binding mark. When we choose someone to be bonded to, someone we wish to spend our lives with, there is a ceremony where we take on the other’s mark. The marks are unique to each couple.” She turned and pulled back the wet hair covering one ear so I could see a small hoop pierced into her ear made of shining black stone. “It’s also traditional for women to receive a piece of jewelry, usually obsidian, to mark the occasion.”

“That is lovely,” I murmured, meaning it. In Halmar, couples participated in a simple handfasting ceremony, nothing so permanent as a tattoo.

She smiled. “It is.”

We soon changed into soft, silk robes and sat on cushions that had been set up beside the pool, while we snacked on fruit and small, meat-filled pastries. Astrid braided my wet hair back while other attendants massaged our hands and feet with luscious smelling lotions, nearly making me want to fall asleep. It felt so good. I found myself very much enjoying our ‘pampering’, as Zara called it, and wondered why we had nothing like it in Halmar.

I leaned forward to reach for another slice of fruit when my eye caught on one of the attendants as she approached us with a fresh tray of tea. There was nothing in particular about her that should have snagged my attention, except—did her copper skin have an almost fake tint to it? Like it had been rubbed on. Then I caught sight of her eyes. They were blue. I stiffened. Zehvitians did not have blue eyes.

The servant leaned over Zara’s shoulder to place the tray down and I nearly dismissed the instinct. But as she rose up, she reached for something in her sleeve, and I reacted before I even saw the glint of the knife.

I launched myself forward and gripped the woman’s wrist just as she slashed it downward towards Zara. The tray crashed to the floor. Those blue eyes widened in shock as they met mine for a split second before she jerked the blade towards me. I still had a grip on her wrist and used my strength to keep it away.

She spun and broke my hold in a practiced move that I recognized.

Realms! She was one of The Order.

Others have been sent.

Silvanus had followed through on his threat as I had feared he would, likely long before he had even sent me the scroll. I didn’t recognize this assassin, but I wouldn’t. Other than during our initial training, we rarely interacted with one another. And if she was a member of The Order, that also meant her blade was tipped with poison.

And I no longer wore any protection. I had given mine to Zara.

The assassin made to jab the knife into my gut, but I shifted away at the last moment and brought my elbow down hard on her outstretched arm.

She dropped the knife, and we both lunged for it. She got there first. I stepped hastily back, anticipating her next strike, but it never came.

Instead, the woman hissed and yanked her arm back. It was the first sound she had made. We both took in the blood on the knife that lay on the ground. The blood that was now dripping from her finger. Our eyes locked for a single suspended moment before she swayed and fell to the ground.

Sura, who up until now had placed herself protectively in front of Zara, made to approach, but I held up a hand. “There’s no need. She’s as good as dead already.” I moved to pick up the knife. “It’s poisoned.”

Sura’s shrewd gaze narrowed. “You are certain?”

As if in answer, the woman began convulsing on the tile floor, foaming at the mouth. No one moved, and everyone simply stared down in shock as the assassin finally released a long breath and went still.

Less than a quarter hour later, I found myself sitting in a chair in a small room just down from the Healing Pools. It appeared to be a small office of some kind. I was still wrapped securely in my robe, my wild, partially dried hair still in its loose braids, trying not to feel self-conscious as Malik leaned against a wooden desk, contemplating me. Sura stood off to my right, her eyes on her king. She wore only her robe, and her long dark hair was down, but she didn’t seem bothered by her state of undress. And Malik didn’t seem aware of her appearance at all.

Malik had arrived mere minutes after the assassin’s death and had taken the situation firmly in hand. After he had assured himself that Zara was unharmed, Malik had told his sister to go rest in her room, to which she had vehemently protested, but had eventually conceded. But not before coming over to give me a tight hug and thank me for saving her life. After she left Malik directed his men—and the guards who had arrived too late to help—to handle the body and confiscate the knife. Then Malik had motioned to me and Sura to follow him into this room so he could get some answers.

“How did you know the dagger was poisoned?” he asked me now. The teasing man from earlier today was gone, and in his place was the ruthless rider, king, and elder brother I had gotten mere glimpses of before now.

I bit my lip and curled my bare toes into the rug beneath me before I answered, very conscious of what I said as I did. “At first, I didn’t; I just noticed that there seemed to be something off about the servant. Then I saw the knife. I just . . . reacted.”

“And the poison?” Malik pressed.

“Nakki poison,” I explained, well aware I was divulging one of The Order’s greatest secrets, but I knew I couldn’t lie. They had the dagger, and I had to explain how I knew it was poisoned. I also found that I didn’t want to lie to them. To him. I was thoroughly caught in that dragon’s stare.

“Nakki poison?” Sura repeated. “What is that?”

Clearing my throat, I tried to keep my voice level as I explained. “Nakki are rare sea creatures native to the oceans of Halmar. Their toxin is one of the most lethal substances in Palasia.”

Malik studied me. “How do you know so much about it? I have never heard of it before.”

I shrugged. “It is common enough knowledge in Halmar. But the creatures are scarce enough that I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of them. The poison has an oily, multicolored sheen that is very distinctive. I noticed it on the blade. That’s how I knew.”

Malik and Sura shared a look.

I looked between them. “What?”

Malik stared at Sura for a moment longer before he shook his head. “I suppose there is no harm in my telling you. This is not the first time there has been an attempt on Zara’s life.” He sighed. “Just before you arrived, before the funeral rites began, Zara and a few other trainees were on assignment in Viraj with one of their instructors. They were sent there to investigate an incident that happened in a nearby town.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I thought it would be good experience for her and the others, since Taj believed the claims were unfounded, anyway. One of the local lords offered her a place to stay in his villa. I thought she would be safe . . . and she needed the distraction after our father’s passing.”

It finally made sense why Zara had been in the distant city . . . how Silvanus would have known. I wondered faintly if he had paid off the nobleman to offer up the specific room.

“What happened?” I asked, trying not to show any reaction to his words. I purposely relaxed my hands so my fingernails wouldn’t dig into my palms.

“While she was there, someone broke into her chamber and tried to assassinate her.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “The coward had a knife and attempted to kill her in her sleep, but Zara woke and caught the assassin standing over her before they could finish the job.”

Outwardly I remained calm, but inside I was trembling. My mind was roiling with guilt and a good dose of self-loathing. Unlike Malik, I knew exactly who the coward had been.

But of course, I couldn’t tell Malik any of this. So instead, I just sat there and acted as if I was hearing all this for the first time.

“Do you have any idea who is behind these attempts?” I asked, hating myself for having to pretend. I comforted myself with the knowledge that I didn’t actually know who had ordered the assassination, just that Silvanus was attempting to carry it out.

Malik shook his head. “The poison is our only lead. And one that isn’t all that helpful if it is as rare as you say.”

“What I want to know is why the assassin chose now to make another attempt?” Sura asked. “There were other ways or means that would have been much easier, when she could have gotten away with no one the wiser.”

“Dragons,” I realized, speaking aloud. “There were no dragons here. And Mesmera rarely leaves Zara’s side. The princess being free of her guardian must have been too strong a temptation to pass up. The assassin saw her opportunity and took it.”

“Well, I don’t plan on giving them another one.” Malik nearly growled the statement, and I knew from the determined fire in his eyes that I no longer had to worry about Zara’s protection. Malik had that well in hand.

Malik looked to Sura. “Make sure all the women are interviewed, including the servants. I want to know if anyone saw or noticed anything out of the ordinary. Even before today. Any information could be useful.”

Sura nodded and straightened, but before she left, she surprised me by putting a hand on my shoulder and meeting my eyes as I looked up at her in surprise.

“Thank you,” she murmured low, her tone sincere and full of quiet sincerity. “Thank you for saving her.”

I swallowed hard and nodded. “Of course.”

I watched her leave, then turned back to face Malik. The realization suddenly hit me that we were alone.

I stood. “I should . . . go.”

I turned and headed for the door, but before I reached it, his quiet words stopped me.

“Leida, wait.”

I turned to face him as he strode forward and stopped before me. To my surprise, he grasped my hand in his and brought it to his lips, and kissed it softly.

“Thank you,” he murmured, emotion blazing in his eyes as he lowered my hand. “Thank you for protecting Zara when I could not.”

I opened my mouth to say something trite like ‘It was nothing’, but then stopped myself. It obviously wasn’t nothing. But the guilt was eating me alive. So instead, I finally settled on, “You’re welcome.”