I offer her a bow, and she turns away.
Once she’s down the hallway, Jake moves close. “What the hell just happened?”
I watch her go, sadness all but trailing her form. “Indeed.”
The training fields are packed with at least twelve hundred soldiers standing at attention, their lines perfect and unbroken. Green and black pennants snap in the wind, and every inch of armor and weaponry gleams in the sunlight. The members of the Royal Houses watch from beneath tents erected along the castle walls, each sitting on a jeweled chair, waiting for the show to begin. My new armor fits well, snug and secure against my frame. Buckling it into place seemed to carry weight, like so many other moments on this journey. When I used to don armor in the Royal Guard, it meant something. This means something, too.
Jake walks at my side, and I am glad for his steady presence. Once I wouldn’t have been able to imagine it. Now I wonder how I stayed at odds with him for so very long. He was wasted on Rhen, truly. Noah and Tycho follow, Tycho holding Iisak’s chain. When we walked out of the castle, Iisak said, “Does the queen think I couldn’t pry this tether away from the boy?”
Tycho smiled and said, “Does the queen think you’d need to?”
It’s all a show for her people. I knew it before we set foot on this battlefield. Karis Luran does not want to appear weak in front of her Royal Houses. Even my show of magic is to be temperate, nothing that would seem to overpower her.
Karis Luran and Nolla Verin wait on a dais at the front of the troops, standing with Clanna Sun and the queen’s generals. My time as a guardsman sometimes feels like a distant memory, but I am no stranger to pageantry. I walk right up to the dais and bow to her.
“Your Majesty,” I say. “I stand ready to ride with you into Emberfall.”
There is more I am to say, but I freeze. Her gaze coolly holds mine.
“Say it,” Jake hisses from behind me.
My lips are frozen. To claim my throne.
Motion flickers in one of the windows of the palace, and I know Lia Mara is looking down, watching this. Be a good king.
Would Rhen be a good king? I thought so once, but now, I don’t know.
Will I?
“Grey,” says Jake. He nudges me in the shoulder.
“I am ready to claim my throne,” I say, “and to ally the people of Emberfall with the people of Syhl Shallow.”
Karis Luran smiles. At her side, Nolla Verin is stony-faced.
“Good,” says the queen. “We are eager to see you on the throne, our ally and friend, and to secure new trade routes for both our countries.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “We once believed magic to be a danger to our people, but you have demonstrated that you will usher in a new era.”
I nod. “I am prepared to offer your Houses a demonstration, as a show of good faith of how I can benefit Syhl Shallow.”
“Very good,” she says. I wait for her to indicate one of the tents, where a son apparently has a broken arm I am to heal.
But Karis Luran steps forward. “A show of loyalty,” she adds. “To prove your willingness to ally with my people.”
I hesitate.
“You know,” she says, “I have no tolerance for those who would stand against me. You saw what I did to my guard who dared to defy me.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” I say, and my voice is cautious. I am not the only one who suspects a trap. Jake has moved closer, but we are surrounded by thousands of soldiers. I certainly can’t fight them all. If Karis Luran means to attack me, I’m dead. I might have been able to knock Rhen and his guards back a few feet, but I have no idea if my power would cover a crowd of this size—nor if I could protect all of my people.
Behind me, Iisak growls low, and ice forms around my boots on the ground. A warning.
I know, I think.
I just don’t know what to do.
“You will prove your loyalty to this alliance,” she says. “You will prove that you will be loyal to Nolla Verin and to me.”
“This is going to be bad,” mutters Jake.
“How?” I say. “How would you like for me to prove this?”
“When you were admitted to your Royal Guard, were you put to a test?”
“Yes, of course.”
“My guardsmen are put to a test as well. They must prove willing to do whatever their queen orders.”
“You are not my queen,” I say boldly.
Her smile widens. “Ah, yes, but you are not yet king, and your power is dependent upon mine. If you wish to claim your throne, if you and your people wish to survive your time in Syhl Shallow, you will prove your willingness to do what is right.”
“Offer your challenge,” I say. “I have said I will provide a display of magic.”
“You saved a traitor,” she says. “You spared the life of my guard Parrish.”
“You asked him to,” says Jake.
“Indeed,” she says. “Now I will ask you to use your magic to execute a traitor. I will ask you to prove your loyalty, Prince Grey.”
“No,” says Noah, his voice a low rush behind me. “No. You can’t.”
I was trained to be a weapon at the hand of another. A cool certainty overtakes me. Magic always seems to elude me. Being a prince has never felt natural. But my people are at risk. My life is at risk. With violence and bloodshed, I am comfortable.
Tycho once looked into my eyes and said, “You can’t train mercy out of someone.”
You can. I know you can. I’m living proof.
“Bring your traitor,” I say. “I will do what you ask.”
Her smile widens, and she looks to her daughter. “Nolla Verin. Fetch your sister.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
LIA MARA
Nolla Verin. Fetch your sister.
I wait in the window. I’m not sure what I wait for.
For Nolla Verin to refuse. That’s what I’m waiting for. Grey’s expression has gone cold and still. The troops wait. The Royal Houses wait. The air of anticipation is almost palpable.
I keep hoping for peace. I keep longing for empathy.
I keep expecting people to act as I would.
I forgot that my mother rules through fear and violence.
I forgot that I am worthless to her.
Nolla Verin looks stunned, but she has never had the will to refuse our mother. She nods and steps off the dais.
My heart stumbles and falls in my chest.
No. Sister.
Two sisters, one heart.
Please, Nolla Verin.
She disappears into the palace. She will be at my door in minutes. She has never failed our mother. Never.
My eyes search the room, as if weapons would magically appear on the wall.
I am such a fool. Grey offered escape, and I refused.
I throw open the door, and Parrish is there, barring the way. His ruined eye is still red, mottled bruising surrounding the stitching that holds the lids closed. I have begged for release before, and he has always refused. He never listens to my apologies, so I don’t know why he would now.
“Parrish, please,” I whisper.
He reaches out as if to slam the door in my face.
I throw out a hand to stop him, putting my weight into it. “Please,” I say. “Please. Parrish, she will make Grey kill me.”
He stares back at me, his remaining eye unreadable.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m so sorry for Sorra. I’m sorry. I would take her place. I would undo it if I could.”
“You wanted peace,” he growls, and I’ve never heard his voice like this. “You’re getting it.”
“No. Not like this. He doesn’t want to kill for someone else. You don’t understand. Please. Please, Parrish.”
“I loved her!” he roars. “You beg me for your life. I loved her.”
“I know.” My voice breaks. “I know. I saw it every time you were together. Please. Nolla Verin is coming—”
“Enough.” He moves to force the door closed, b
ut I wedge myself into the opening.
He draws his dagger and puts it against my throat.
I freeze.
“I was given orders to use deadly force if you attempted to leave.”
I swallow, and the blade jumps against my skin.
“Parrish,” I rasp.
He says nothing. I watch emotion flash through his remaining eye, but that blade does not move.
I close my eyes. “You wanted peace, too, Parrish. You wanted peace, and Sorra wanted it for you.” I have to swallow again. His blade is so sharp. “She loved you. I didn’t know what—” I gasp. “I didn’t know what Rhen would do.”
He says nothing. Nolla Verin must be mere moments away.
“Grey saved your life,” I say. “He has no part in what I did. I would take it back if I could. I would bring us back to that moment in the woods and I would say my mother was right.”
“No,” says Parrish. “You would not.”
But the knife doesn’t leave my neck.
He’s not wrong.
“Parrish,” I say. “You can run, too. You know what she will do with you if she secures this alliance. You know she seeks vengeance.”
“There is nothing more she can take from me.”
“She can assign you to serve in Emberfall. She can force you to work in tandem with the men who killed Sorra. She can have you serve in the very room where she died.”
“Enough.”
This time his voice is very quiet. My breathing is almost shaking. The weight of his dagger hasn’t left my throat.
“We loved you, too,” he says.
I clench my eyes shut. A tear slips free. “I know. And I loved you both as well.”
The dagger slips free. “Go.”
My eyes snap open. “Parrish,” I whisper.
“Are you a fool?” His remaining eye blazes at me. “Go!”
“You must run. You must—”
“They are not after me, Lia Mara.”
He’s right. I run. I don’t even have boots on, but my feet grip at the stone floor, and I round the corner.
Nolla Verin is standing there. She’s in armor instead of robes, ready to ride at Grey’s side to attack Emberfall. A bow is over her shoulder, a sword at her hip. Her eyes are red but determined.
I skid to a stop. My breathing is a loud rush in the hallway.
She is steady. Always steady. I cannot outrun my sister. I cannot outfight her. When she squares her shoulders and starts forward, my muscles are screaming at me to run, but I cannot.
She is my sister. My sister.
I raise my hands in the air. “I will not fight you, Nolla Verin.”
She strides right up to me, her face so fierce. She will make such a great queen.
Then, instead of taking my hands and dragging me out of the castle, she wraps her arms around me and presses her face into my shoulder.
“I can’t,” she cries. “I can’t.”
I wrap her up in my arms and hold her. “You can,” I whisper. “You can.”
I don’t know how long we stand there. The castle is so silent. Anyone of importance is on the training fields, ready to march. Nolla Verin cries into my shoulder, and we clutch at each other for the longest time. She holds me so tightly that her weapons press into the front of my body, and I’ll probably have bruises tomorrow.
If I’m alive tomorrow.
“They will come for you,” I whisper eventually. My sister is here with me, and all will be well. It means nothing to vow my life for this alliance, for peace, if I am not willing to do as I said. I will not risk Nolla Verin along with myself. “You must take me.”
“I love you,” she says. She draws back and brushes the hair from my face. “I hope you know that.”
“Of course I know that.” I do not mention the moments wondering if she loved her quest for power more. I do not mention all our differences. Her love is potent in the air around us. When she embroidered that pillow for me, I saw her love in every stitch. “I love you, too.”
She grips me so tightly. “I am sorry I did not come to you.”
“Your heart was with me.”
“No. My heart was uncertain.” She sniffs. Her eyes search mine. “Will you tell me what happened when you were alone with Grey in the woods?”
“Nothing—truly. Nothing. We … we talked.” My face warms. “We were friends.”
“The truth, Sister.” Her voice is so soft. “Please.”
My heart flutters, and I press a hand to my chest. “In Emberfall, I knew I was bringing Grey home to you. I knew you would need to form an alliance with him. I knew he would find you beautiful and powerful and all the things you are.”
“Something happened between you on the veranda.”
I frown. “It was a mistake.”
She takes my hands and clutches them between her own. “Lia Mara … I am not asking if you betrayed me.”
I choose my words with care. “Then what are you asking me?”
“I am asking if you love him.”
I shiver. “I do not know.”
“You do know.”
I look into her eyes. Her gaze is so piercing and clear. “I think I could love him.” I pause. “I know what he must do. Mother is quite thorough in guaranteeing allegiance.”
“I think he could love you, too.” She squeezes my hands. “I hear it when he speaks of you. I see it when he looks at your window.”
I turn my hands inside hers and squeeze back. “I bear you no ill wishes, Sister. I know … I know how things must be.” My eyes threaten to well with tears, and I blink them away. “You will do what is right. He will, too. I have no doubt.”
She nods—but then shakes her head. “I do not know what is right.” The words are spoken in a whisper.
“Nolla Verin … I don’t understand.”
“What would you have done with the trapper in the woods?”
“What are you talking about? Why does it matter?”
“Just tell me. Please.”
I push out the words. “I would have let him live.”
She closes her eyes. A tear slips away from her lashes. The silence around us presses in like a weight.
I put my hands over hers. “He likely would have moved into that town and rung the alarm that we had entered Emberfall.”
“Emberfall had so few forces available,” she whispers. “It would not have mattered.”
I agree with her.
I did not know she realized that.
“There was a sister in the woods,” she says. “I saw her.”
I grip her wrists. “What?”
“There was a sister. Another girl. The guards hadn’t spotted her. Mother would have ordered her death as well.” She lets out a breath. “I allowed her to get away.”
My heart is beating so fast. My sister has never admitted any shred of empathy. “I allowed her to get away too,” I say.
Her eyes stare into mine. “You did?”
“Yes. As did Parrish.” And now my guard regrets every moment of it, I am certain.
“Mother always says she named me heir because I never question her,” says Nolla Verin. “I do what needs to be done.”
I smile sadly. “You do it well.”
She shakes her head fiercely. “I do what she says because I do not have the strength to question her. You do.”
“She would certainly disagree with you calling it a strength.” I look up into my sister’s troubled eyes and straighten my back. “I do not matter, Nolla Verin. You will be a great queen. He will be a great king. And our countries will finally be at peace. Do your duty, I am ready.”
The field is absolutely silent when we step out of the palace. I expected Nolla Verin to bind my hands or tether me somehow, but she winds her fingers with mine and we walk onto the field together.
Mother looks pleased.
She has ordered Grey to kill me, and she looks pleased.
I force my eyes away from her. The soldiers standing in formation don’t d
are move. Her guards are ready and still. No one will question her. No one will stop this.
The grass slides under my bare feet. I wear robes with no belt, my red hair long and unbound. I am afraid to look at Grey. I am afraid that I will find doubt or sorrow or hesitation in his expression.
But I have to look at him. He must know this is the only way forward. He must know I will not fault him for doing this.
As my eyes lift, I find his men first. His friends. My friends. They have Iisak on a chain. Tycho looks even better in trim armor than he did in palace finery. His face is full of anguish. Noah looks disgusted. Jake looks like he wants to take on the entire army to stop this. And Grey.
Grey looks like a prince. In the combined colors of Syhl Shallow and Emberfall, he is regal and commanding. There is no hesitation. No uncertainty. The man who whispered his fears in the darkness of my bedroom is gone, leaving a prince who will be king.
I expected to find horror and misery in his gaze, but those dark eyes are cold and ready.
I would rescue you, he said so many times.
So many times I refused.
I would refuse now. But he does not offer.
Mother is speaking, but I do not hear the words. I do not need to.
I hear her intent.
Cold air swirls around me, and I release Nolla Verin’s hand to step forward. The sense of anticipation in the air is almost palpable. I should have seen. I should have known. My mother does not flinch. She rules by fear and power, and what better way to show her people how ruthless she can be than by killing her own daughter.
I stop in front of Grey. He says nothing. His eyes reveal nothing. I remember why I once found him frightening.
Do it, I think. You must.
He must kill me or she will kill him. I know it. He knows it too.
“Don’t do this,” Noah growls from behind him.
Grey does not flinch. His hands lift, settling on my shoulders, sliding upward to find my neck. My breath catches as his thumbs settle over my pulse point, and he surely must feel the steady thrumming of my heart.
I hope he will do it fast. I hope it will not hurt.
I hope. I hope. I hope.
He has not moved. His eyes are heavy and intent on mine, but there is no mercy there.
“Do it,” I breathe. “You must. For our people, Grey.”
A Heart So Fierce and Broken Page 33
