Dazed by the turn of events, Shyla remained in place as Rendor barked orders to his men. A bunch left and a new batch arrived. How many did he convince? Was that what he’d been doing all this time?

Soon, though, he stood in front of her. “Are you all right?”

From this distance, she noted his bruises had been faked. Probably part of the plan to lure Yates into a false sense of security. She wondered if Rendor had thrown their prior fight. However, she didn’t need all the details yet. Right now the fact he’d come when she was most desperate was all the answer she needed.

“Shyla?”

“Are you here to stay?”

Rendor wiped Yates’ blood off his sword. He bowed and laid the weapon at her feet. Straightening, he said, “I’m your captain for as long as you’ll have me.”

His words hit her with the intensity of a magical vow, cleansing away the doubt and heartache that had lived in her soul since he’d left.

She jumped into his arms.

He caught her easily. A huge grin spread on his face as he hugged her tight.

“You’re hired,” she whispered in his ear and was rewarded with a deep rumbling laugh—the best sound in all of Zirdai.

Rendor squeezed her once more then set her back on her feet. His gaze snagged on her neck. “You’re bleeding. Timin,” he called.

Timin jerked then hurried over to them. Fear and uncertainty swirled in his eyes. “Uh, yes, sire.”

“I’m not the new Water Prince,” Rendor snapped.

“Why not?”

“I’m the captain of the Invisible Sword.”

They both looked at her.

“Oh no, not me. I’m already in charge of one organization.”

“You can’t leave the position open—there will be civil war,” Timin said. “Who, then?”

Good question. She rejected the first name that came to mind and considered the Invisible Swords, then the vagrants. Orla would make a good leader. But that first name was truly the best choice.

Rendor met her gaze.

“Jayden,” they both said.

“But he’s not…” She couldn’t find the words.

“Not what?”

She sighed. “You’ve missed a lot.” But she had as well. “You’ve been recruiting for the Invisible Sword?”

“Yes. I had to prove to the Invisible Swords that my intentions were honest. I had to make amends before I could return.”

“You…” She was going to say he didn’t have to prove himself, but he did. Not to her, but to the rest of the Invisible Swords.

“Me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me what you were doing?” she asked instead.

He stiffened and the familiar stubbornness crept into his expression. “I had my reasons.”

Oh no, she needed a better answer than that. He could have avoided hurting her. Then why— Scorching sand rats. Why didn’t she think of this sooner?