I frowned. "Why me? I'm not the highest ranked or the most qualified."

"Our former rankings hold little value now, and in terms of qualifications, I believe you have the highest kill count of anyone here."

Rapchuk bristled. "I've killed three Demons. How many has Remgar killed?"

When I didn't immediately respond, Fraschkit fielded the question. "He killed several before we found him and his father outside the palace. And Kardki tells me he took out at least a few Demons at the rebel base when Borgal betrayed us, and more when he rescued the Guardians from the dungeon."

When she listed the fights like that, it did sound like a lot, but her words made me more uncomfortable than proud. The kills didn't feel like something to brag about, especially not with my hand still resting on a Demon's thigh—a Demon she had carefully omitted from the accounts of my kills. Isalio had spared me at the base, Isalio had set me free at the palace, and I had rescued Isalio from the dungeon.

"I just had more chances to kill," I said.

"And more chances to die. Remgar, a Guardian is lucky to defeat one Demon and live to tell about it. You must have killed at least a dozen. We need those odds to defeat the palace."

Manikbar hummed. "Sounds impressive, certainly...yet despite so many opportunities, he never managed to kill the High Prince."

"Remgar has persuaded this Demon to cooperate." She spoke of Isalio as though he were not mere feet from her. "I know we'd all love to see the High Prince dead, after all he's done, but he currently has more value alive. While we train, I will ask the Guardians posted outside to take the Demon back to his cell until we have further use for him."

Isalio's leg tensed beneath my hand, and I fought the urge to offer him a verbal assurance or reach for his fingers once more. Instead, I addressed Fraschkit in the most neutral tone I could manage. "The Demon has cooperated fully today, and he is still cuffed. Why does he need to be locked away underground?"

"Leave it," Isalio whispered. "It doesn't matter."

"No." I didn't bother to lower my voice. "It matters that we treat prisoners with respect after they comply with our demands."

Rapchuk snorted. "You think the Demons treat prisoners with respect?"

I considered telling them about how Isalio had given me as much respect as he could in the Demon palace, but that whole situation was too complicated, so I settled on a different argument. "Is that our standard for how prisoners should be treated? We aspire to be like the Demons?"

Rapchuk's knuckles cracked, and Manikbar guffawed, but neither answered. Isalio pushed my hands off his leg, his eyes fixed on the table in front of him and jaw shut so tight I could hear his teeth grinding.

"Then where do you think the Demon should be, Remgar?" said Fraschkit. "You think he should join our training?"

"He can help us train—if he wants to," I said carefully, willing Isalio to meet my gaze.

Without looking at me, he huffed a laugh. "If I want? I haven't wanted anything since before I summoned the Morgabeast."

There was a barb in that statement, and it hooked right into my gut. He hadn't wanted anything?

"But you..." I bit my tongue to prevent myself from saying something I shouldn't.

You kissed me.

Of course, I knew why he had kissed me the first time: he had been attempting to manipulate my emotions, and he had succeeded. But the second time, the all-powerful prince had abandoned all logical thinking in the heat of the moment, all because he wanted me...right? Or had he only gone through with the kiss to force me to carry out my agreement with the General? He had told me I had appealed to him, and that it was hard for him to hold back, yet his actions always seemed perfectly controlled. Was he always ruled by a hidden agenda?

Fraschkit interrupted my thoughts. "I'll have Kardki escort the High Prince back to the cell. She'll ensure our asset is protected."

"Can I have a word with him first?" I asked. "Just give us one minute."

I couldn't come up with any excuse for my request, but at this point, I didn't care. I needed the group to trust me, but I needed Isalio to trust me even more.

The rest of the group shifted uneasily, but they held their tongues, waiting for Fraschkit's answer. She drew a breath that raised her shoulders, shooting me the kind of glare that would usually be accompanied by a punch in the shoulder. Then, oddly, her eyes flicked toward Zuzette. For once, Zuzette did not offer an opinion, just watching Fraschkit along with everyone else.

Fraschkit waved a hand at the door. "You have one minute, Remgar. Not a moment longer."

I stood, and when Isalio didn't immediately follow, I clasped his elbow and pulled him to his feet. Though I feared I was manhandling him as I forced him toward the door, he managed to make the exit look leisurely, almost a saunter.

Outside the door, I scanned the perimeter. Kardki and another Guardian were posted at the intersection of the dirt trail and the gravel road, but they faced away from us. I backed Isalio into the wall of the cottage. Out of frustration, I used a bit more force than intended—or maybe I just hadn't anticipated how bonelessly, how helplessly his body would accept the force. When his shoulders thumped into the wood, I released him, heart in my throat.

"Sorry, I...are you alright?" It wasn't how I had intended to start this conversation, though admittedly prior intent had little to do with any of my last actions.

His eyes traveled between mine, expression unreadable. "Why did you save me from the dungeon?"

I blinked. "The dungeon? We already talked about this, Isalio."

"You said your brain wasn't fully operating."

"And it wasn't."

"No one does things for no reason."

"You just think that because you don't." It was an accusation but also a question; I was begging him to refute my claim. "You always have a plan—a greater goal."

"Everyone does. That's how we survive."

"So it's all about survival?"

"Don't you agree?"

I hesitated, darting a glance at the shut door just feet from us. "Then why did you kiss me?"

"You must have realized by now that I was manipulating you." He sounded a little frustrated and a little...guilty? Regretful, maybe?

I clucked my tongue. "At the rebel base, you kissed me because you wanted something from me. But in the palace..."

"In the palace, I did what had to be done so you and your father could go free, and now you're back with your people. What more do you want?"

"Did it help you survive?"

He shrugged. "I'm still alive."

His words were measured and logical, and the logicality of it all just bothered me even more. "I just want to know..." I hissed an exhale. What did I want to know? If looking at me made his heart beat the same way mine beat when I looked at him? If he wanted me enough to just for a moment forget about everything else?

I settled on, "Would you do it again?"

"Do what?"

"Kiss me."

His brow furrowed, and something unreadable flickered across his eyes. "If you ask me to."

The submission that had initially intrigued me now increasingly disturbed me. If I asked him to kiss me, he would do it whether he wanted to or not. And if I didn't ask him to kiss me, would we ever kiss again? Two months ago, destroying the Demons had been my only goal in life, and my desire for revenge had fueled me. Now I wanted more than that. I wanted to show Isalio the world had better things than what he had experienced, that things could be different, that life could be good. I wanted...

I searched his eyes now, the amber irises sharpened by the morning sun, the dark depth of his pupils staring back at me. His whole body mirrored that deadly beauty, the jet-black locks of hair framing his pale face, the hook of his nose, the rigid line of his shoulders. But I remembered how his hair slipped through my fingers like silk, and how his shoulders had softened against my chest.

I wanted that.

Now I realized I'd been staring at him a few seconds too long, and he clearly realized it too—his shoulders drifted down an inch, his lips parted slightly, and his pupils dilated.

I wanted him.

"Remgar?"

I jolted back a step and whipped toward Fraschkit, who now stood just outside the door. Based on the way her eyes averted when I looked toward her, she had noticed the tension between us. Fuck, how had I not heard the door open?

I swallowed. "I was just checking if he—if he—"

"Don't even try, Remgar." She sounded more tired than upset. "Your time is up, so I'm having Kardki bring him to the cell."

I glanced back at Isalio, who looked remarkably unruffled given the circumstances, arms folded loosely and gaze aloof. Still, I knew better now than to accept this posture as evidence that he was fine.

"I'll see you as soon as we're done training," I said.

"Don't bother. You've got more important things to do than keep checking on the 'asset.'" Immediately after the words left his mouth, he winced and bit his tongue. He drew a breath and switched to a more measured tone. "Your friend said Kardki will watch over me. I know you trust them both."

I raised my eyebrows. He seemed confident about my feelings toward other Guardians, so how could he not understand how I felt about him?

With Fraschkit still watching and my own thoughts a jumbled mess, the best reply I could conjure was a repeat of my earlier promise: "I'll come to you after training."

Fraschkit called for the Guardians posted at the end of the trail. When they trotted toward us, Fraschkit grabbed my arm and steered me back toward the cottage door.

"Get something to eat before the training starts," she said. "You'll need your full energy—and your full focus."

***

An hour later, we gathered in the same central courtyard where Isalio had faced trial. Only five of Fraschkit's followers were present; the rest were too young, too old, or assigned to other duties, like searching for the legendary Mantle. Three Sitaklasa Guardians also came, as well as Zuzette, Ranndu, and eight Sitaklasa humans. Most of the humans clutched crossbows, though one tossed a spiked club from hand to hand.

Only twenty total, and less than half were trained in this kind of combat. Doubt needled me. How many Scouts were there? And if we didn't destroy them all, how long would it take for them to bring the entire force of the palace down on Sitaklasa?

This training was too little, too late.

Fraschkit started by describing the Queen's Scouts and asking us to melt rubber onto every weapon. As she spoke, the rising sun brought a wave of heat and humidity that hung over us like a wet blanket. Postures drooped, and even the critters slowed, nestling in the shade of bushes. By the time Fraschkit finished giving orders, sweat plastered her red hair to her forehead.

Then tools clanged, sweat beaded on foreheads, and grim lines creased faces. Amidst the clatter of tools and sizzle of melting rubber, I overheard scattered bits of conversation from humans who must not have realized the extent of Guardian hearing.

"You see that Guardian over there?" whispered a human melting rubber onto a crossbow arrow. "I hear he's been defending the High Prince."

"I'm not sure the new Leader is any better. I heard she asked the Guardians at the jail to 'treat the Demon well.'"

That last bit was mildly reassuring—I would have to thank Fraschkit later—but also worrisome. Even keeping Isalio cuffed in an underground cell was not harsh enough for many here, and not everyone here respected Fraschkit.

"We know things are bad when the Guardians ask humans to help them fight," said another human. "Do you think we stand any chance at all?"

"We already knew things were bad when they brought a Demon into our town...alive."

I clamped my jaw shut to keep from saying anything and strode further down the line, examining work. When I reached Zuzette, I stopped.

"Do you know how to fight?" I asked. "I thought you were a gardener."

She shrugged. "I'm good at swinging a shovel. Can swinging a mace be that different?"

I frowned. "I grew up on a farm, and that did not prepare me to kill Demons."

"Well, I'm a fast learner. Anyway, I'm the one who wanted humans to be allowed to fight."

"The hunters will be helpful, but you don't have to join the fight just because other humans are here."

"Yeah, but..." She glanced over her shoulder to where Fraschkit was giving orders, and her bold confidence faltered a little. "I called the Guardians hypocrites."

"We needed to hear it. Anyway, Fraschkit said only the humans with combat skills should fight. The rest are supposed to—"

"Hey, Demon-lover."

I whipped around to see Andradkut striding toward the group. I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Now, you definitely shouldn't be here. Surely Fraschkit at least set an age limit."

"Surely you'd rather be with your Demon." He dropped off a little at the last word, scanning the area for the mentioned Demon.

"He's not here, Andradkut."

His shoulders relaxed, but he quickly straightened his posture again. "Well, that's lucky for him. With all these Demon-Slayer maces around, he wouldn't stand a chance against me."

I recognized myself in him—in the overinflated bluff of confidence from when I had begged to join my mother and Hefgar as a child, and in the hatred that had consumed me after their demise. It was painful seeing my own struggles so clearly from an outside perspective.

I blew out a sigh. "I'm on your side, Andradkut. I care about this team, too."

"I'll believe that as soon as you kill the High Prince."

"Killing him would just make things worse. He's here to help us."

For the first time, he really looked at me. "You really believe that, don't you?" He pursed his lips and gave a slow nod. "Fine, I won't argue with you anymore."

That was too easy. "You won't?"

"No... I'll just kill him myself." He tossed the arrow on a pile, swiveled on his heel, and paced away from me.

I looked around for Zuzette, who now scrubbed excess rubber from arrows at the end of the line-up, far from me and even further from Fraschkit. Briefly, I considered going after Zuzette or Andradkut to give another attempt at persuading them to seek safety, but I had little confidence I could sway either of them, so I decided to refocus on helping to prepare weapons instead.

Soon after, the real training began. First, Fraschkit led us through the same training exercises Leader Rakimar had always started with. Then she called on me to join her in the front of the crowd. Anxiety rolled through my gut like distant thunder, but I forced a smile and strode up the stairs once more.