I cannot bear the thought of you locked away. Your mother wields you like a weapon against me—and it is working. I tread carefully to ensure this accord proceeds toward peace, and not toward the destruction of Emberfall.
But I would abandon it all, Lia Mara. We are to leave in the morning. I was not trained as a prince. I was trained to be a weapon at the hand of another. I can do that again, for you.
Do you long for escape? Or shall I continue along this path?
Give the order and I will obey.
Yours,
Grey
My eyes close, and I press the letter to my chest. I remember his eyes in the hallway of that inn in Blind Hollow, the low rasp of his voice when we were both exhausted, but he neglected sleep to guard my door. Fear not. No one will touch you again.
He would give all this up to rescue me.
Because of everything I believe, I can’t ask him to.
Iisak is watching me. “Shall I tell him anything?”
Emotion grips my throat again. I straighten my robes and refuse to allow any further tears to fall. “Tell him to be a great king.”
I cannot sleep. Horrific visions haunt my thoughts. My sister going off to war, sliced in two by a guard from Emberfall. Grey riding into battle, overtaken by dozens of soldiers who drive their blades into him faster than he can heal. Shadows crawl across my wall into the early morning hours as I toss and turn, tangling my bedsheets. When a faint scratching sounds at my window and a shadow fills the frame, I am equally relieved and irritated.
“Iisak—” I begin, but the figure unfolds from the window frame. No wings. Not a scraver—a man. My heart jolts and stutters, and I suck in a breath, slipping out of bed to back away.
“Be at ease, my lady.”
Oh. Oh. “Grey,” I whisper. My chest tightens, and my throat swells. I press my hands together in front of my mouth.
He moves forward to stop in front of me. His long fingers brush the tears off my cheeks. “Do not cry,” he says, his voice lovely and deep.
His eyes are intent on mine, longing and uncertainty sparking there in the depths of his gaze.
Every word I said to Iisak is forgotten now that Grey is here, sharing the same air I breathe.
I glance at the window. “Iisak said he cannot bear the weight of a man. How—how did you—how?”
“He can bear the weight of a rope. And I can climb.”
My heart refuses to stop fluttering. “It is three stories!”
His lip quirks. “Ah … I didn’t look down.”
“But—the palace guards—”
“Please.” He gives me a look.
I stare up at him and want so many things. I want to kiss him again. I want to feel his fingers against my skin. I want to whisper secrets around a campfire. I want the world to narrow down to me and him and nothing else.
Everything I want goes against everything my country needs.
“You said you would obey my order,” I finally say.
“I cannot be a great king if I leave my allies imprisoned.”
I frown and take a step back. “You cannot rescue me. Grey—too much is at stake.”
“I feel as though we both need rescuing, Lia Mara.”
The torment in his expression mirrors what I feel. I press my fingers to my eyes. “You should leave.”
“Do you truly want me to?”
No.
I can’t say it. I don’t need to say it. He doesn’t move.
“We are too bound by honor and duty,” he says. “It seems a cruel trick of fate to bring us together.”
“I don’t believe in fate,” I whisper.
“Hmm. Does that make any of this feel easier?”
I swallow. “No.”
“The hour is quite late,” he says. “I should not have disturbed your sleep.”
“I don’t mind.” The words are bold, and inappropriate, and all I am doing is inviting further pain and regret. I simply cannot help myself. I want to lean into him and inhale his scent.
“I would rescue you,” Grey says. “If you would allow it.”
My eyes snap open. I don’t even remember closing them. He is so close.
“Grey …”
“Everyone else seeks to manipulate me,” he says. He breathes a sigh. “There is no one here I can trust.”
That startles me out of my swooning. “I thought you were well on your way to trusting Nolla Verin.”
“Your sister seems more eager to see if she can kill me than anything else.”
“She could not best you.” I turn away, thinking of my coquettish sister. “Trust me, you have her attention.”
He catches my waist, pulling me still, pulling me close. His dark eyes bore into mine. “Do I have yours?”
The room is so still and quiet, and his patience seems eternal, because he holds me there until the tension slips out of my body and I nod. “Yes,” I whisper. “You do.”
He leans in, his lips brushing mine with the weight of a butterfly, and my breath catches.
“Yes?” he whispers.
“Yes.”
When he kisses me again, it’s even slower, gentle and strong all at once, his hands holding me upright. My fingers clutch at his jacket, pulling him closer, until his body is against me, warm and solid against my sleeping shift. I feel as though I’m flying—or drowning. Warmth surges through my chest and lights a fire in me.
Finally, I pull away. Too many lives are at risk, on both sides of our border. “Grey. You can’t rescue me. You can’t.”
He goes still. “I could have you down the rope in minutes. I know the pattern of the guards.”
My heart thrills a little too much at that suggestion. “No.” I draw back. “Peace with Emberfall is too important. You cannot.”
“As you say.” He seems to steel himself, his eyes shutting down the way they do when he must be violent.
I don’t like him doing that with me. I was trained to be a weapon at the hand of another.
I pull him closer. “No, Grey. No.” I brush my fingers over his cheeks, his eyelids, then brush my lips against his face. “Do not hide from me.”
He yields to my touch, but I can feel the difference in his body now.
“You cannot rescue me,” I say again, so softly that the words feel imagined. “But perhaps … for a while … you could stay.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
GREY
We end up sitting beneath her window, eating leftover sugared plums and soft rolls from her dinner tray, sharing the night air and enjoying the silence. Perhaps another man would be using this time to unlace the back of her sleeping shift and cajole her into the bed, but that feels insincere. I do not like the idea of sneaking into her luxurious prison to take advantage of her. This is the first time we’ve ever been truly alone together, and it makes her seem more vulnerable somehow. More precious.
I don’t know which of us is more committed to honor and duty, but I was ready to rappel down the castle wall with her on my back, so I think it is not me.
“What are you going to do if someone comes looking for you?” she says quietly.
“My rooms are not far. Iisak is listening for trouble. Jake and Noah are sitting awake, waiting for me to return.”
“Rooms?” Her eyebrows go up. “Mother truly did want to make you feel welcome.”
I sigh. “She wants me to feel something.”
“You do not trust her.”
I look at Lia Mara in the darkness. We are speaking of her mother, so I should deny it. But there have never been untrue words between us, and I don’t want to start now. “No. I don’t. Do you?”
“I trust her to do what she believes is best for Syhl Shallow.”
I roll my eyes. “Exactly.”
“If you had not discovered your birthright, would you have stayed with Rhen, once the curse was broken?”
“Yes, of course.”
But as I say the words, I realize there is no of course about it. I consider those mont
hs in Rillisk, when I was just Hawk. After an endless cycle of season after season of torture at Lilith’s hand, followed by the danger and destruction of the monster Rhen would become … there was a simplicity I craved.
I look at Lia Mara. “I was seventeen when I became a guardsman. My family was so desperate—I just wanted a way to provide for them. I don’t think the king had any idea who I was.” I shrug a little. “Or perhaps he knew, and he liked knowing I was close, even if he could never acknowledge me. I have no idea. No one keeps secrets like the dead.”
Her eyes are warm with sympathy, but she waits.
“I had only just been assigned to guard the royal family when we were trapped by the curse. I was not an officer.” I pause, remembering. “Rhen and his sisters were fickle and capricious at best, but boredom brought out the worst of their temperaments. They often lacked for entertainment, and guardsmen eager to keep their assignments were easy targets.”
“You once said Rhen was never cruel.”
“He had his moments, but true malice was rare.” I glance at her. “Perhaps cruelty is something you must learn in order to rule.”
“Do you truly believe that?”
“I see the ‘loyalty’ your mother has inspired in her people, and I think it must not hurt.”
Lia Mara frowns. “I believe you can only push people down so far before they will rise up and rebel.” She pauses. “You spoke of the curse feeling like an eternity. Even if Rhen was not cruel, I think it must have been a relief to escape that duty.”
“Yes. It was.” The words are almost a relief to say. Despite everything we endured together, there was an element of relief to finding myself in charge of my own future.
I could have told Rhen what I knew. Right then, right when I learned it from Lilith. I didn’t.
We settle into silence again. The window is full of moonlight. My fight on the field with Nolla Verin feels like a lifetime ago. I want to wish for another path but wishing solves nothing. The minutes tick by, bringing us ever closer to the moment when I must leave.
Lia Mara eventually looks at me. Her fingers drift over mine. “I’m glad you came, Grey.”
I close my fingers around hers, and she pulls me toward her again. She kisses me gently, her lips drawing at mine. Her fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of my neck, and the kiss becomes anything but gentle.
“I should have climbed up here days ago,” I say.
“Ahh. Fell siralla.” She rolls her eyes and kisses me again.
“Nah,” I say, offering the same words she spoke on the veranda so many days ago. “Fell bellama. Fell garrant.”
She blinks, then laughs in surprise. “You’ve been practicing!”
“Fell vale,” I say. I kiss her, whispering against her lips. “Gentle man.”
She blushes hotly, then presses her face against my chest. I hold her there and breathe.
The lock at her door clicks.
Silver hell. I all but leap through the window. The rope finds my hands by little more than a whispered prayer to fate. My feet fight to grip the wall as the rope swings wildly. My breath is a wild rush in my ears, the palace wall cold as ice in the night air.
Or maybe that’s Iisak, soaring through the air to land against a ledge fifteen feet above me. His black eyes peer down at me. “Problems, Your Highness?”
I stare daggers at him and shake my head vigorously.
My breathing needs to steady. I have no idea where the guards are in their patrolling, so I cannot remain against the palace wall too long—but I also don’t want to leave Lia Mara in danger. I will my frantic heartbeat to slow, then ease up a few feet to listen.
Karis Luran’s voice. “… are progressing nicely. You see now why I have kept you confined to your room.”
“Yes, Mother.” Lia Mara’s voice seems so small.
“I admit, I was worried he would attempt to turn his magic against us, but I have witnessed his attempts on the training fields. Perhaps his half-blood will work in our favor. He is not the threat the magesmiths once were.”
I can’t even scowl. She’s not wrong. And I don’t trust her. Why should she trust me?
My forearms strain against the rope.
“We have received word that Rhen’s forces are divided between cities, and we have no time to waste. The Royal Houses would like to have a gathering to offer their blessings to our generals.” Karis Luran pauses. “After your display at the last fete, I would like to demonstrate to the Royal Houses that there is no conflict between you and your sister. I would like to demonstrate that Grey is devoted to this alliance, and to Nolla Verin. You will not attend. You will keep your distance.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“You will not disappoint me again.” The threat in her voice is clear. I remember Cortney saying, The Stone Prison is not full of loyalists.
Silence.
I have to shift my weight, but I don’t want to risk it. I stare up at Iisak. He leans down a bit, until I’m not sure how he’s maintaining his balance.
My forearms are screaming. It’s surely been too long. The guards patrolling the grounds will spot me soon.
Suddenly Lia Mara’s face appears above me. Anguish fills her eyes. A tear slips free and strikes my cheek.
I pull myself up a few feet until I can brace on the window ledge.
“You must go,” she whispers.
“Lia Mara—”
“Please,” she whispers. Another tear slips free.
I reach out to brush it from her cheek. She takes a step back, out of reach.
“Go,” she whispers.
“Please. Wait.” I swallow. “We have so little time—”
She swipes tears from her face and straightens. “Please. I told you I do not matter.”
Above me, Iisak says, “Your Highness. The guards are beginning to turn back this way.”
“I can rescue you,” I say. The words come from my lips without hesitation. “This instant.”
“I don’t need rescuing.” She chokes on her breath. “Please, Grey. We knew what was at the end of this road.”
I wish for more time. There is none.
My life is full of wishes that never come true.
“This is your choice?” I say.
She straightens and wipes the tears off her face. When she speaks, her voice is unwavering and strong. “This is my choice. For my people. For yours. You said you would obey my order, and I gave it. Leave me. Be a good king.”
There is no path here. I feel as though the curse never ended. The players simply changed.
Her expression is unyielding. She gave an order, and I said I would obey.
“As you say.” I set my jaw, loop the rope around my boot, and rappel down the wall.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
GREY
Karis Luran arrives at my door at sunrise with a full contingent of guards. Nolla Verin is at her side, her eyes narrow and guarded. “Prince Grey. We have brought new armor befitting your station, for you and your men.”
A servant shifts forward and bows to me, then others move forward to flank him, holding out armor so freshly minted that I can smell the leather and oil. The black leather of the breastplate is lined with green, the colors of Syhl Shallow, but the crest emblazoned in the center is the gold and red seal of Emberfall: a lion and rose entwined, with a gold crown embossed above it, signifying royalty.
I trace my finger over the crest. The same insignia once appeared on my Royal Guard uniform—without the crown.
“Our colors together will let your people know you stand for unity,” says Karis Luran.
I meet her eyes. “Will your armor bear the colors of Emberfall as well?”
Her lip curls ever so slightly. “No. It seemed foolish to go to the expense of outfitting the entire army.”
So I will look to be allying with her—while she risks nothing.
I have nothing with which to bargain, though. “You have my thanks.”
She smiles, and she looks like
a viper. There is no love lost between me and this woman. I would cut her down right here in the hallway if Lia Mara begged for release.
“The Royal Houses will gather on the training fields,” she says. “They would like to offer a blessing for our journey. I would like for you to demonstrate your magic, to show our advantage over Rhen’s people.” She pauses. “And you will keep that creature on a chain.”
Behind me, Iisak hisses.
I don’t even turn around. “No.”
“You swore that you would maintain his year of service. You said you would require him to do my bidding. This is my will, and you will do it.”
My heart is pulsing in my chest, because I sense a trap. Nolla Verin is too still.
“I will perform a feat of magic,” I say woodenly. “I will not put any of my people on a chain.”
Anger flashes in her eyes. “Then I will—”
“I will wear a chain,” says Iisak, but frost curls along the stone walls of my chambers. “If it will make you feel safe, Your Majesty.”
Karis Luran doesn’t look at him. Her eyes don’t leave mine. “You will maintain order among your people or I will maintain it myself.”
“Your terms have been agreed to.”
I wait for her to spring a trap, to demand more, but she turns away without another word, her guards trailing in her wake. Servants stack the offered armor inside the door, then bow and move away as well.
Only Nolla Verin remains behind. She reaches out to touch the armor her mother delivered. She traces her hand over the crest, as I did. She looks up at me. “Does it cause you pain, to know what you must do to your brother?”
I go still. “Yes,” I say, and my voice is suddenly rough. “Every moment of this causes me pain.”
She looks up at me in surprise, but then it fractures and shifts into dismay. I have never seen such emotion on Nolla Verin’s face.
As suddenly as it appeared, the emotion vanishes, locked away, leaving only the dutiful daughter.
“I will see you on the battlefield, Prince Grey.”
A Heart So Fierce and Broken Page 32