Chapter 64

Evelyn

The days bled into each other in the rogue camp. Fortunately, Jesse was taken by other obligations for much of that time, and I was left to find other ways to occupy my time. It was not hard to keep my hands busy with so many injured needing tending to, and the dire supplies forced me to get creative.

Plus, losing myself in work was the only way to stay sane.

In the medical tent, there were no titles. I had always liked that. It was just wounds and fevered bodies, split skin and bruised bones. Simple and easy to understand.

Though, admittedly, I had expected some of Jesse’s soldiers to be resistant to my care. In the end, it turned out they came to me willingly. Eagerly, even.

I was stitching up a young woman’s arm when it struck me again how wrong the stories had been. The tales meant to instill fears of all the rogues that I’d grown up hearing did not hold the same weight I thought they would because most of them weren’t monsters.

They were tired, hungry, and grateful for my care, not unlike the soldiers I had tended to in Logan’s camp.

“Thank you,” whispered the young woman, her eyes wide with quiet awe. “No one’s ever… been that gentle before.”

I smiled as I tied off the stitch. She would heal well with the help of my skilled hand, even with the shoddy supplies I had been forced to use. Even an expert with enhanced abilities like me could only do so much.

“It’s nothing. Some people are best with a blade. This is what I’m skilled at. I prefer the needle to the sword.”

She blinked fast, seeming at a loss for words. I wondered when the last time someone had cared for her had been. I couldn’t bring myself to ask.

When she left, I sat back for a moment and let the ache in my shoulders settle. My hands were raw and sore from so much work, and I rubbed them to help ease the pain. But for the first time since Jesse had declared this camp my prison, I didn’t feel like a captive.

Until dinnertime.

A messenger came, relaying that Jesse was demanding my presence once more at dinner. I sighed and rubbed my sore hands even harder. I had gone days without seeing him, and I supposed that this torment was long overdue.

But this time, he came to me. Jesse appeared just outside of my tent as the sun dipped low, his coat slung over one shoulder like he’d been rehearsing how to look effortlessly charming.

“Walk with me,” he said.

It wasn’t a question.

I could’ve fought him on it, sure. It wasn’t like I wanted to go with him, but I knew that the liberties I was given around camp were fragile. It was best to appease him in this.

So I followed him. We walked slowly along the edge of the camp, where the trees thinned and the wind smelled like pine and woodsmoke. The air was made hazy by the campfires lit throughout the area as rogues settled down for the evening.

Jesse pointed out each section of the camp like a tour guide, though it all looked the same to me. He gestured to the training grounds, ration storage, and “war room,” but all of it looked like poorly constructed tents and cleared space between trees to me.

He narrated everything with strange enthusiasm, like this was his kingdom and he wanted me to be impressed by it.

“I built all this from the ground up,” he said. “Logan got his army handed to him. I had to earn every damn ally. Everything and everyone here came together because of me.”

“You mean because you stole it for yourself,” I muttered under my breath.

He chuckled, seemingly unbothered by my insult. “What would be the difference? The crown stole from us first.”

I stayed silent. If I let him know my true thoughts on it all, I wasn’t sure it would go well.

We passed a small clearing, where fireflies blinked lazily in the dusk. It was strangely beautiful despite the disarray of his unimpressive camp. Jesse slowed to a stop.

“You know, I never forgot the first time I saw you,” he said.

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “With Logan?”

“No, before that.” He grinned, and something about it twisted my stomach into uncomfortable knots. “You made quite the impression. You’re hard to forget.”

“When was this?”

“Years ago, in the marketplace,” he said. “I was working for pennies then. It’s not surprising that I didn’t leave an impression on you.”

He leaned against a tree, the moonlight illuminating his pale face as he spoke. “You were buying herbs. I assume they were for some kind of tincture or salve. But you were wearing a white dress. I’ll never forget that. Hair in a braid, too. You smiled at the vendor and gave him twice what he asked for.”

I frowned. “I don’t remember that.”

“You wouldn’t. Like I said, it was unimpressive, really. Or it would have been to anyone but me.”

He stepped in front of me, and I tensed on instinct.

“But what happened after was even more memorable,” he added, eyes glinting with something sharper than nostalgia. “I followed you.”

The air went still.

“You… what?” I staggered back a step. It felt like something significant had shifted between us.

“I followed you. Past the market. Through the streets. All the way back home. All the way back to the palace gates.”

My stomach dropped.

“You’re… You don’t understand,” I stuttered. “It’s not what it looked like. Whatever you’re thinking… it isn’t true.” But the words felt weak.

“Ah, but I think it is,” he said easily. “I saw where you lived. I saw your father on the balcony that night, sipping wine like the world owed him something. And you were right there by his side, sharing a cup with him.”

He took a step closer, and I fought the instinct to retreat.

“I knew then. I knew what you were. Princess Evelyn. The jewel of the kingdom. The realm’s darling.” He smiled, slow and triumphant. “And I knew I’d have you someday. I decided it then, and look at us now.”

I staggered back another step, nausea curling in my chest.

“You knew?” I choked. “All this time?”

He shrugged. “Not everyone figured it out. You did a good job of hiding it. But I remember faces. Especially the ones I dreamed about for years. Like I said, you’re hard to forget, Princess.”

I stared at him, horror blooming cold in my gut. Not just because he knew, but because he’d never said anything. Because everything—his offer, his interest, his taking me as revenge against Logan—had all been a performance.

“You’ve been playing with me.”

He raised his hands, mock-innocent. “I’ve been waiting. Now I’m just… enjoying what I’ve earned. You see, when you work hard for something and you put in the time and the work… Well, it makes the reward all the sweeter.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t stand the roar of blood in my ears and my racing heart. I turned on my heel and walked away, ignoring his voice behind me. He didn’t follow. Not this time.

But I felt his eyes on my back all the way to my tent.

And for the first time in days, the kindness of the other rogues wasn’t enough to keep the panic from clawing its way up my throat. It was revived and well, threatening to pull me under.