A girl who'd obviously learned long ago how to keep her guard up. She wasn't always this way, I remembered that.
Then she opened her eyes, letting them drift to mine like a rising dawn. Her stare was heat, melting away my defenses, exposing more than I'd ever intended for her to see: the real me, flawed and too often foolish, and funneled into a life of rebellion. Certain of nothing but the weight of her hand on my chest. Aware of nothing but the softening of her expression, the parting of her lips. Her other hand wrapped around my waist, though I noticed a slight tremble of her fingers, nervous, anticipating. I was nervous too.
Something about her had gotten beneath my skin, like an itch that couldn't be scratched. And that was hard enough when she was across the room or out of my sight, but here, now, the itch was unbearable.
Every instinct within me shouted to turn away from her. To keep her out of my mind, and certainly nowhere near my heart.
I knew exactly who and what she was, and I had some idea of Tenger's ultimate plans for her. Only a fool would pretend that she was any kind of heroine, or that her past crimes should be forgiven.
Yet she wasn't a villain either. She seemed genuinely concerned for her servants, and had just tried to sacrifice herself rather than put anyone else at risk. On my darkest days at Woodcourt, she used to smile for me.
And the way she was looking at me now. Drawing me in, a willing moth to the flame.
This was the girl who'd nearly gotten me killed six years ago. The girl who surely had been making plans to try again since the first second of her capture. She could not be trusted. I knew that.
Just as I knew I should not be leaning in to her.
Kissing her was the last thing on my mind.
But there it was ... on my mind.
Something in the bedroom made a sudden crashing sound. We startled apart, the moment severed between us.
"I know you, girl," the Halderian in the room said. "Don't I?"
Trina murmured something inaudible and laughed nervously, but Kestra caught my unguarded reaction. There shouldn't be any reason for a Halderian to recognize Trina.
A new man entered the room, reporting, "She's not here. Maybe she did leave."
"Is Kestra hiding somewhere?" This was the first man speaking again, more sharply now. "This is your last chance to answer."
It wasn't clear whether that question was addressed to the innkeeper or to Trina, but the innkeeper made a high-pitched gasp. "I serve the Dallisor family as they serve the Lord of the Dominion." His denial was followed by a sharp cry.
Just as before, Kestra tried to push forward, but I held her back. She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. She pushed at me again, but I cupped my hand around the back of her neck and drew her to me. Her head turned sideways against my chest, and the desperate clutch of her hand on my arm soothed some of the anger within me. I held her tighter as her body trembled with sorrow, but she remained quiet.
"Don't kill me." The innkeeper's pained voice pled for mercy. "If you have any message for Lady Kestra, tell it to me. I will be sure she hears it."
"The Halderians are organizing, and we're coming for her again," a man said. "To anyone who stands between us, that is the message."
Trina cried out as the innkeeper grunted and a body fell to the floor. Had they killed him?
Kestra pulled away from me, her expression one of horror. As much as she wanted to get out of this hiding place, surely those men had made it clear how deadly serious they were about finding her.
She had the same seriousness about her as well. She raised a knife--my knife, in fact, stolen from the sheath at my waist. I scowled, knowing I'd been tricked. We'd deal with that issue later, because I guaranteed there'd be a fight about this. But for now, I grabbed her arm and pressed it against the back wall, which instantly cracked. The brittle wood was older than I'd thought.
Kestra's eyes sparked. She wouldn't dare.
"No," I quietly warned.
But she did. She raised a leg and kicked it backward against the same panel. The wood didn't break entirely, but it splintered enough to let a wisp of air through.
"What was that?" the first man asked. "You all, stay here and find out where that sound came from. I'll go outside!" He must've been talking to the other Halderians in the room.
I grabbed Kestra's shoulders, hoping to stop her from breaking through to the outside wall, but her expression was fully defiant. When she kicked backward again, a small hole opened. Behind it, the trunk of the oak tree could be seen.
The Halderians began pounding on the right side of the wall, trying to break in. They'd eventually find the door.
Kestra kicked yet again, widening the hole.