Eury hadn’t beenthe same since the dragon’s lair. Then again, neither had I.
I woke to her sitting wrapped in her cloak in the chair, gazing down at me, face unreadable. The dagger lay in her lap, smoke rising from it. Random cracks of almost-dawn played over her body from the boarded-up window, turned the smoke gray where they illuminated her.
I had never seen her like this. Her hairless head, perfectly round. Her ears, small and almost pointed at the top. Her cheekbones, two hard edges, probably from lack of food. Her eyes were almost bluer, her lips still soft and pink.
She’d always been beautiful, but now?—
Now she carried a majesty. I wanted to taste her tongue; I wanted to drop to my knees and touch my lips to her bare feet.
“I’d ask how you slept, but clearly you didn’t,” I murmured, rubbing at my eyes.
She sat forward. “Where are the barracks, Dorian?”
“The barracks?”
“Where do the guard stay in this district?”
“Four streets over.” I felt self-conscious, naked under the blanket, and sat up with it over my legs. “We need to get food in you.”
“No time. The scouts will be leaving in an hour.”
The scouts? What the hell did the scouts matter?
She pointed toward the window and the world beyond. “Count the days, Dorian. It’s been a fortnight since the half-moon.”
A fortnight. Which meant a full moon.
I understood her plan at once. It was genius, but… “We have no uniforms.”
“It’s just after dawn. If they’re anything like our guard, they’re still asleep.”
“So you want to steal their uniforms.”
“I wantyouto steal their uniforms, seeing as you still have boots that fit.”
I stood, bringing the blanket with me around my waist. “I suppose you want me to steal a couple of horses, too.”
Her blue eyes lifted. Her shoulder rose. “Once you’re in uniform, no one sees a thief.”
She was right. The scouts weren’t questioned in the districts; they were held in a kind of reverent regard for the sacrifices they made.
It was our best chance of getting back to Feyreign before the trial. Past the gates, we could ride hard. We could make the Killing Fields in a few days.
“Fine.” I grabbed my pants and started dressing in the chill air. My family’s home sat like its own catacomb around me; I couldn’t wait to leave. “But first, put that dress on. I’m taking you to a pub to break your fast.”
“There’s no time, Dorian.”
I paused with my pants half on. “Less time because of your objections.You’re eating, godsdamnit.”
She stared at me long and hard—a challenge I met with an unerring gaze. Then an almost impish smile curled her lips. “Yes, ser.”
The words sent a surge of heat through me. There she was, the Eurydice I’d fallen for in the trials.
She had soon gotten dressed and slid on a pair of silk slippers I got for her from my sister’s room. She hid the dagger in the inner pocket of her cloak, raised her hood to hide her hairless scalp, and nodded at me.
We left the abandoned house in the quiet of dawn. Two streets down, not far from the barracks, The Iron Mare had just hung its shingle for the morning.
I pushed open the door. Every table sat clean and empty. A middle-aged woman straightened with a wet rag in hand, gaze flicking from me to Eury and back. I didn’t recognize her face, thank the gods. “Breakfast?”