Chapter 9. Speaking
Duana appeared in the doorway behind Eachan, startling him. “Father, Aloren spoke. Finally.” Her voice trembled with emotion. “She asked to see you.”
Eachan raised himself to his feet, weary from the long day, and passed his daughter, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She’d been especially upset over how things were handled where Aloren was concerned.
Aloren sat on a chair in the kitchen—her arms bandaged, her hair clean and pulled away from her face. She’d bathed herself? He tightened his eyes, suspicion flowing through him. Was she trying to get on his good side? Trying to put on a show?
“Jacob . . .” Aloren paused, her eyes welling with tears. “Is he . . . is he dead?”
Eachan watched her. He’d been under the impression she didn’t care or know much about Jacob. At least, that’s what she’d told Sanso when he interrogated her. The emotion on her face and in her voice now told Eachan otherwise.
He leaned against the door frame. “No, he’s not dead.”
“They didn’t kill him?”
“Nor will they.”
Aloren buried her face in her hands and sobbed, her shoulders shaking. Bile rose in the back of Eachan’s throat, making him nearly gag. Stupid girl—why would she do this to herself? He’d be required to report her changed behavior to the Lorkon, and he’d be punished if he didn’t. Surely she knew by now it was he who had gone to the Lorkon in the first place.
Finally, after several minutes, she looked up again. “How long will I be held here?”
Eachan cleared his throat. “Until the Lorkon choose to free you, or . . .” He paused, clearing his throat again. The Lorkon weren’t concerned about her one way or the other—they wanted Jacob. And knowing how much this girl cared for that boy would only instill in them the desire to keep her here longer. “They want the boy.”
Defiance raced across her features. “Then we must stop Jacob from coming.”
Eachan took a step back in shock. He watched her face carefully. “But . . . but if he can free you, don’t you want him here?”
Another expression crossed her face—one of frustration, impatience. “No!” she cried, then much softer, “No. He needs to stay away. Needs to be safe.” Her eyes filled with tears again.
Eachan stepped forward, emotion coloring his own voice. “I . . .” He stopped, swearing inwardly.
She stared at him in confusion. He turned from the room.
He had to stay away from her.
Had to do his job. Had to keep Duana safe.
Kilenya Series Books 1, 2, and 3 Page 76