The horrible sizzling sound and the acrid scent of burning flesh turned her stomach and nearly made her drop the candle. She scrambled to keep a tight hold of it.
Sweat now coated Jonas’s brow, but he hadn’t made a single sound. He pulled the dagger away. “It’s done.”
“That’s barbaric!”
He gave her a considering look. “You haven’t experienced much adversity in your life, have you?”
She immediately opened her mouth to protest, but found that if she were honest, she couldn’t. “Truthfully, no. Until recently my life was a dream. The worries I once thought I had now seem incredibly petty. I never gave a single thought to those who had it worse than I did. I knew they existed, but it didn’t affect me.”
“And now?”
Now she saw with more clarity than she ever had in her life. She couldn’t stand by and watch those in pain without wanting to do something to help. “At the end, my father told me when I become queen that I’m to do a better job than he did.” The image of her father dying in her arms came back to her with agonizing clarity. “All these years, and Paelsia so close to us . . . we could have eased your suffering. But we didn’t.”
Jonas watched her quietly, silently, his face catching the small light of the flickering candle. “Chief Basilius wouldn’t have accepted help from King Corvin. I saw with my own eyes that the chief lived as high as any king did while letting his people suffer.”
Cleo looked away. “It’s not right.”
“No, you’re damn right it’s not.” He raised an eyebrow. “But you think you’re going to change things, do you?”
She didn’t hesitate in her answer for a moment. “I know I am.”
“You’re so young—and more than a little naive. Maybe too naive to be queen.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Insults, rebel?”
He laughed at this. “When we first met you called me a savage. Now I’ve earned the slightly more respectable title of rebel.”
One moment he mocked her, the next he seemed so sincere and real. “When I first met you, you were a savage.”
“That’s entirely debatable.”
“That you’ve held onto this weapon for so long makes me wonder how much has really changed.”
“Looks like we’ll have to agree to disagree.” He shrugged the sleeve of his shirt back on, but didn’t fasten the ties across his bare chest.
“I guess we will.”
“We’ll have to stay here for the night.” Jonas glanced past the camouflage covering the entrance to the cave, his jaw tight. “I hope my friends managed to get away.”
“I hope so too.” Cleo didn’t want any of them to die—not even the unfriendly Lysandra. The girl only acted as she did out of pain. She’d lost so much. They all had.
Jonas turned from her. “You need your beauty sleep, princess. I’ll keep watch.”
o;Put that out,” she warned. “They’ll see.”
“They won’t see. They’re gone.”
“Fine. Then give it to me.” She held out her hand. “I should look at your shoulder.”
Jonas winced as if he’d forgotten he’d caught an arrow.
“I’ll have to stop the bleeding.” He handed her the candle, then shrugged the shoulder of his shirt down to bare half his chest and his upper arm. Cleo brought the flame closer to see the wound and grimaced at the sight of all the blood.
“That bad?” he asked, glancing at her reaction.
“Not bad enough to kill you, obviously.”
Jonas quickly worked his shirt off all the way. His one shoulder was coated in blood around the wound. Otherwise, the flickering light showed his skin to be tanned and flawless and every bit as muscled as, if she admitted it to herself, she’d expected.