Free Forged in Blood I by Lindsay Buroker

right?” Amaranthe had better make sure she had her facts right before she started making fuses.
    “Yes. It’s made of soot, walnut oil, and turpentine. When we run the presses, we have to be careful not to let the bearings on the rollers overheat or…” Deret’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you ask?”
    Maldynado laughed. “The more pertinent question, old boy, is which one of us will get blamed when she blows up your father’s building?”
    Deret looked back and forth from the bottles of ink to the brick wall. “Oh.”
    Maldynado elbowed Amaranthe. “He’s volunteering.”
    “Really?” Amaranthe asked. “I didn’t get that.”
    “It was inherent in the lack of a strenuous objection. Please note, I am objecting. Strenuously.”
    “We can face the soldiers if you wish, Deret,” Amaranthe said, though she fervently hoped he did not wish—especially if someone had run off to fetch the elder Lord Mancrest and if Mrs. Worgavic was still with him. She was the last person to whom Amaranthe wanted to reveal her presence.
    Still eyeing the ink, Deret rubbed his jaw. She shifted from foot to foot, but didn’t rush him, though the banging at the door surely made her wish to do so.
    “No,” Deret finally said. “I meant what I said earlier. I’m done arguing with my father—and those Marblecrest lackeys.” He scowled at Maldynado.
    “Don’t look at me like that.” Maldynado prodded his thumb to his chest. “I’m disowned, remember? And when Ravido finds out I was present—though not, I assure you, responsible—for his wife’s death, I’ll be lucky if I’m not dismembered.”
    “Mari’s dead?” Deret gaped at him, then turned the gape onto Amaranthe.
    “I’m not responsible either,” Amaranthe said. “I was busy being tortured by Hollowcrest’s former master interrogator at the time.”
    “ What? ” Deret continued to gape, though his gaze shifted back to Maldynado, as if to check if this were a joke. Maldynado shook his head solemnly. Deret swallowed, pity entering his eyes.
    Amaranthe hadn’t wanted that. She’d just meant to—bloody ancestors, she shouldn’t have brought it up at all. They needed to get out of here.
    “It seems we have much information we should exchange with each other,” Deret said.
    Glad he was ready to drop the conversation too, Amaranthe managed a smile. “That’s why we came looking for you.”
    “And here I thought it was because you’d grown weary of the company of that assassin and sought emotionally stimulating conversations.” Deret picked up one of the jars of ink.
    Amaranthe tried to read whether there was hurt lacing his flippant words—and whether that hurt might be a problem. She thought the humor reached his eyes, but she couldn’t be sure.
    Deret must have understood her uncertain silence, for he patted her arm and said, “I’m teasing. I’m actually seeing a nice girl—or I was until Father detained me.” He growled and set the jar down by the wall.
    Amaranthe told herself that it was good that he’d found someone else, though a silly part of her felt stung that he’d so quickly dismissed her and fallen for another. Come on, girl, she thought, you’re not some spell-bindingly alluring maiden from the stories of eld, the kind soldiers pined over for decades while they were away at war. So long as one certain man didn’t dismiss her, that was all that mattered.
    Deret pushed the other jars toward the wall. “You two stand back a bit. I’ll handle this. I’ve inadvertently started enough fires with the presses that I’m practically an expert.”
    Maldynado pumped a fist. “ Yes .”
    Amaranthe cocked her head at him.
    “He is volunteering to take the blame.”
    Deret snorted and waved for them to back away. “Turpentine is noxious stuff. You don’t want to inhale any more than is necessary.”
    “You be careful, too, then. Especially if there’s a new lady worrying about you right now.” Amaranthe pushed Maldynado toward the