He chuckles. “That I did. Perhaps a bit too much, seeing my current condition.”

“I’m very sorry. Did you become infected while performing your duties?”

His smile stiffens slightly on his face, though it relaxes just as quickly. “It’s hard to tell with these things,” he says. “I took as much care as I could, of course.”

It’s a small lapse on his part, but I’m suddenly sure he’s hiding something. I’m deliberating whether to push for more when Mehtap comes back through the door, her entire face alight. I find myself rising halfway to my feet, even though I don’t know why she’s so happy.

“I have wonderful news,” she says. “Father has returned.”

Chapter Thirty-two

It’s hard to describe the emotion that hits me as Sehmar City finally appears on the horizon. When I left weeks ago, I didn’t have a home, but now I come back as a blooded soldier. I’ve fought beside my brothers-in-arms and lost friends to Ampara’s enemies. And now, at the sight of Sehmar’s tall walls, I’m reminded of what all of this was for.

Next to me, Masista kisses his fingers and puts his hand on his heart. I follow suit, and a fierce pride in my empire consumes me. The city walls gleam like a polished version of the desert sands. As we pass through the gates, citizens line up by the road to pay their respects. And for the first time, I claim them as my people.

As soon as Arxa releases us at the palace, everyone disbands in search of loved ones. Kosru catches Walgash in a bear’s embrace. Masista goes to find his wife. Even Cas has a lady to welcome him, though I have serious doubts about her intelligence or sanity. All these reunions make me think of the rosemarked compound, but it’s too late in the day to leave the city. I promise myself I’ll go first thing in the morning and head to the bathhouse instead. I figure Zivah would appreciate me going there first before seeing her. I wonder if she’s received news about our mission yet, and if she’s been worried about me.

A few hours later, I get a summons from Arxa. “The commander would like to see you in the interrogation rooms,” says the messenger.

“The interrogation rooms?”

“In the prison,” he says.

I suppress a shiver. That’s not the place I would have wanted to go on my first night home, but Arxa had mentioned he might need to speak with me about the prisoner.

The dungeons are much as I might have guessed—dank, with smells of mold and rot. It’s unpleasant, but there’s a strange feeling of familiarity about it. I suppose, if I had been a soldier before the plague, I might have spent some time guarding a prison like this.