The Redwood Rebel (The Redwood War Book 1) by Lorna George

smile tugging at her mouth at this reaction, completely aware of how she must appear. She took stock of the white cotton sleeping chemise she was now wearing, and supposed Lady Esta had seen the worst of her condition. She was about to address the other woman’s discomfort at the admission, when Lady Esta hesitantly took her hand and looked sorrowfully back at her. ‘He said you tried to take your own life.’
    Grimacing at the bemusement this caused her chaotic thoughts, Naomi looked uncomfortably down at the hand that held hers. She had, but it had been the result of a split second of blind panic. She was glad she had been stopped, no matter the circumstances. Ffion needed her alive, and it had been selfish of her not to put the suffering people first.
    She shrugged. ‘What difference does that make?’
    It was Lady Esta’s turn to look confused, then shocked. Her hand tightened fractionally on Naomi’s for a second, and there was a touch of horror in her expression. Naomi knew suicide was seen by most cultures as an atrocity, but in Tsumetai it was a perfectly honourable way for a warrior to meet their end when there was no way out. She knew her mixed blood was obvious, but supposed the radically different approaches to the subject somehow negated her own upbringing.
    ‘Don’t you know?’ Lady Esta whispered. ‘Has no one explained?’
    ‘Explained what?’ Naomi shook her head. There was a rustle of heavy fabric then, and the entrance to the tent was thrown aside. King Arun walked in quite carelessly, then apparently seeing the serious expressions of the two women, stopped in his tracks, brows furrowing.
    ‘What’s going on here?’ he asked, looking suspiciously at Naomi. She could only quirk an eyebrow in silent disapproval, the turned her attention back to Lady Esta. The woman wasn’t looking at her any more, but had instead turned those troubled eyes on the King. She did not release Naomi’s hand.
    ‘She doesn’t know, Arun. She doesn’t know anything.’
    The distrust left his face, and his own expression softened slightly. He nodded, his brow furrowing as he responded. ‘I’ll take care of it.’
    ‘But Arun-!’ Lady Esta’s voice became high and aghast, but she was silenced immediately.
    ‘Out, Esta!’ he snapped, eyes blazing at the hapless woman.
    Giving Naomi’s hand one final squeeze, Esta looked worriedly at her one last time, before releasing her and standing. Without another word, she curtsied respectfully to her King, then left them alone, her long skirts swishing softly as she went. Naomi couldn’t keep the mild disgust at his harshness to the poor woman from her face. She didn’t want to.
    ‘My teacher used to say that you can tell a lot about a person by the way they treat those they consider beneath them,’ she kept her voice steady and arched a brow. ‘Sire.’
    He didn’t appear much more impressed with her than she was with him, but after looking her over, he chose instead to keep his silence. Walking across the tent, he stopped briefly at the large desk, apparently to check something, then over to where she lay. He was a handsome man, there was no denying it, but up close she could see he was short. He was taller than she was, unsurprisingly, but far shorter than the Lady Esta. She had surmised as much when they had lain together, but now seeing him properly and coupled with his compact form she was sure she could take him down if she needed to.
    From the long, heavy brocade coat and the close-fitted pants he was wearing, she suspected he couldn’t be carrying a concealed weapon bigger than perhaps a small knife. He looked healthy enough, and she knew he was strong, in body as in magic, but there were tell-tale signs of exhaustion. This man was not well-rested, and that could only work to her advantage. He took up Esta’s seat at her bedside, and finally met her gaze again.
    ‘I’m glad to see you looking better,’ he said seriously. ‘The sleep obviously did you