Kiva’s chest tightened at his admission. Jaren had been wrong when he’d said Caldon was avoiding anything that might remind him of his parents. It was the opposite — Caldon was doing everything he could to remember them. Except, perhaps, the things that hurt too much. Like seeing his sister. And visiting the army camps. And taking up the mantle of leadership that he’d been born into, that he’d worked hard for, that he’d wanted.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Caldon was punishing himself. That even three years on, his grief remained raw enough to dictate his decisions.
Kiva could empathize with that, more than anyone. She also knew he wouldn’t want her pity, so she mustered a wry smile and said, “Yeah, I can see why you like it down here. It’s so private. Peaceful, too. And there’s so much space. It’s like your own little haven of solitude.”
She’d timed her comment perfectly for when they walked past an open doorway into one of the larger guard dormitories, the bunks cramped together, the loud sounds of snoring — and other bodily functions — echoing out to them.
Caldon’s lips twitched. “I’m sure we could find you a spare room, if you’d like to move down here.”
Kiva pulled a face, and Caldon’s lip twitch became a full grin.
“It’s cold outside,” Kiva said, not rising to his bait — but that only amused him more. “You should button up your shirt or you’ll catch a chill.”
Caldon laughed quietly but made no move to fix his outfit. “Abs like these deserve to be seen.”
Kiva shook her head, unable to keep from snorting in response.
With the mood considerably lighter between them, they made their way out of the barracks and up the path to the palace. Upon reaching the front entrance, Kiva insisted that she didn’t need an escort all the way to her bedroom, and quietly bid Caldon a good night.
Just as she was turning away, he called out to her.
“You say you became the darkness, that it consumed you,” he said, his cobalt eyes soft on hers, “but I call bull on that. I’ve never met anyone who shines as brightly as you do.”
And with that unexpected — and profound — compliment, he walked away, leaving her fighting back tears as she stood there in stunned, heartfelt silence.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Kiva was still reeling from Caldon’s parting words as she made her way through the palace toward her bedroom.
Everything that had happened that day had finally caught up with her, making her feel tired enough to sleep, but her plans of falling swiftly into bed vanished when she spotted a shadowy figure dressed all in black and moving quickly, disappearing around the next corner.
She knew those shoulders. She would recognize them anywhere.
The figure was Jaren. But . . . why was he sneaking around his own palace?
Do you really think Eidran would have given me that information, knowing what I’d do with it?
Kiva groaned. Of course Jaren would choose tonight of all nights to investigate the secret rebel meeting place — if that was indeed what he was doing. Either way, Kiva’s curiosity was too great to ignore.
Wishing she’d changed out of her pajamas before visiting Caldon, Kiva pulled her cloak tighter and hurried after the prince, careful to keep a generous distance between them.
Down he traveled, floor after floor, until he reached the ground — and then went lower.
Into the tunnels.
Jaren wasn’t taking any chances, Kiva realized, as she followed him under the river and toward the western palace, both of them diligently keeping to the shadows. He didn’t intend for anyone to see him leaving the grounds — because he was heading to the hidden escape passage.
Kiva’s pulse sped up when he disappeared through the door leading off the main thoroughfare. She couldn’t trail directly after him; if she didn’t give him time to move further down the tunnel, she’d be discovered.
It was agony. She felt exposed, shifting nervously from foot to foot. But it was the middle of the night, and the underground network was eerily deserted. No one knew she was there. No one knew Jaren was there.
Naari was going to kill him when she found out.
If she found out, Kiva mentally corrected.
When she judged enough time had passed, Kiva opened the door — quietly — and slipped through. She rushed down the numerous steps in the low-lit passage, only stopping once she reached the fork in the path.
Listening intently, she tried to hear how far ahead Jaren might be. If he’d slowed down, she could collide with him in the pitch-black tunnel, but if he’d sped up, she might lose him. She had to be able to see where he went upon leaving through the grate; if he disappeared into the city, she’d never be able to find him.