I knew my people were suffering. I did not know how much, all at once. I wished for oblivion.
I came out of the bath ready to kill something. I am lucky Grey is so skilled.
Or maybe he’s the one with luck.
“Rhen.”
I blink. “What.”
Harper opens her mouth, then closes it, her lips forming a frown. I haven’t been able to meet her eyes all morning and now is no different. We’re in the General’s Library, my father’s strategy room, and I stand at the window, watching the people in the courtyard below.
“I asked if you were pleased,” says Harper. “People are showing up to volunteer. You can start building your own army.”
“Do you remember our discussion of regiments?” My voice sounds hollow and I am unsure how to fix that. I speak through it. “One regiment of Syhl Shallow’s army could eviscerate the people in the courtyard.”
“You just got them all fired up!” she says. “If you didn’t want them to form an army, why did you say all the ‘good of Emberfall’ stuff?”
“They were already ‘fired up,’ as you say.” I keep my eyes on the people shuffling into a line below. “I have no desire to incite a mob. I merely gave them a rallying cry.”
“It’s a start,” she says.
I have nothing to say to that.
I wish I were back under the water, holding my breath, waiting for oblivion.
I wish I were back in the arena, swinging a sword.
Instead, I stand here, every muscle tight as a bowstring.
Eventually, Harper says, “Grey, what do you think?”
“I think it is good that the people are willing to fight. That their loyalty has not waned. They seem to believe the royal family is in exile. Most have put aside their fear of the creature—of the castle itself—to come here. To fight for themselves and for Emberfall.” He pauses, and his voice gains the very barest edge. “They will need someone to lead them.”
Those words are a warning, of sorts. A reminder that I have a role to play here.
I’ve told Grey nothing of what happened with Lilith, but I am certain he’s guessed at some of it. I was not subtle in the arena this morning.
“Can you lead them?” Harper says, and I think she’s talking to me.
No, I think. I can only lead people to their death. Do you not see?
“I am not a general,” says Grey. “I am not even a soldier. The King’s Army and the Royal Guard did not train together.”
“Jamison was a soldier. A lieutenant, right?”
“He was.”
“I know he messed up at Silvermoon, but a lieutenant would be some kind of officer, right? Could you go talk to him and figure out a plan for what to do with all of these people once they’re divided up by skill?”
“Yes, my lady.” He leaves, the door softly falling closed behind him. He didn’t even wait for me to issue an order.
Or maybe he knew I needed her to give one.
Harper appears by my side at the window, leaving a good two feet of space between us.
“It was Lilith, wasn’t it?” she says quietly.
I jerk at the mention of her name, and Harper looks over at me with alarm.
“I wasn’t sure if she was what had you so upset,” she says, “but I haven’t heard you talk about anyone else who has the power to throw you off your game like this.”
“She is quite skilled at finding any weakness,” I say.
“So she came back. Last night.”
“Yes.” I brace myself for her to ask what was done, or to ask why I did not invite her to my chambers for another session of bargaining. The very thought turns my stomach.
But Harper says nothing. She stands beside me and breathes, much the same way we stood together at the cliff at Silvermoon. So much changed overnight. On so many levels.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she says.
“No.”
We watch the people in the courtyard for a while. I’m surprised at the variety of volunteers. A boy who can’t be more than six stands in line. He stares at the castle in wonder, then pokes an older boy beside him—a brother, possibly. I think of young Jared being eviscerated in front of me and snap my eyes away. An older woman leans against a cane farther down, reminding me of a village elder who lay impaled by a Syhl Shallow spear in another vision. Emerging from the woods, more people stream toward the courtyard.
One young woman seems familiar, and it takes me a moment to place her.
Zo. The musician’s apprentice. She is small in stature, but instead of a gown, today she wears breeches and boots, a bow strapped to her back and a dagger at her hip. A huntress, perhaps.
Interesting. I wonder if Grey will turn her away.
He should turn them all away.
I turn from the window and move back to the strategy table, dropping into the second chair—not the first, where my father would always sit. Maps are spread across the surface from whatever meeting my father would have had with his advisers during the first season. I no longer remember. This is not a room I visit often.
Harper drifts from the window as well. “This is like a big game of Risk,” she says, coming to survey the largest map, pinned down in the center of the table. The northern lands, showing the mountain range bordering Syhl Shallow.
“Risk?” I echo.
“It’s a war strategy game.” Harper picks up a small iron figurine. “You even have the little men.”
I give a short laugh, though I feel no humor. “To live in a world where war strategy is a game.”
“Hey.” Her eyes pierce me. “You know my life isn’t sunshine and roses either.”
I nod, conceding. “As you say.”
“Show me how it works.”
I hesitate, not wanting to think about the impending doom of my people to such an extent that I would map it out, but Harper is watching me expectantly.
I sigh and rise from the chair, gathering a dozen of the iron pieces into my hands. “Syhl Shallow is here,” I say, placing six horse-and-rider figurines along the mountain range. “Jamison said there was a battle at Willminton, and his regiment was destroyed, which means I can assume Karis Luran’s soldiers control access through the mountain pass.”
“How wide is the mountain pass?” she says. “Could we set up an ambush or something?”
I glance up, impressed. “We could—but they likely control enough of the area surrounding the entrance to the path to prevent that very thing.” I shake my head. “Our best bet will be to give the illusion of strength. To not engage in battle at all. To form the impression of an army of size, not necessarily of might.” I place more figurines around Ironrose. “If we can form a battalion around the castle—”
“You know I don’t know these military words.”
“If we can place groups of soldiers around the castle, and then find a way to send messengers to the border cities instructing them to have their soldiers gather strategically here and here”—I place more figurines—“it will give the illusion of a well-prepared militia.”
Harper comes around the table to stand beside me and she surveys the table as well. “So why don’t you sound happier?”
I flash on an image of a home burning while soldiers bar the door, stabbing swords through the slats while people try to escape.
I shudder and move away. “Because I have no idea whether I still have soldiers posted at the borders. I have no one I trust to deliver a secure message.”
“Grey?”
“We need him here if we are to continue visiting the closer cities. I will not send him away for weeks at a time.”
Something in her expression flickers. “Right.”
I frown. “What is it?”
“You said ‘weeks at a time.’ I just … I hadn’t thought about this dragging on so long.”
Ah. Her mother. This mission—this curse—promises nothing but misery in every direction. “You still hope to bargain for passage home. You would not have wanted
to meet with the Lady Lilith last night, my lady. I assure you.”
Harper studies me, and the weight of her eyes presses down upon me. “I’ve seen what Lilith can do,” she says. “I don’t understand what’s different.”
I cannot explain without telling her everything. I drop into my chair and study the array of figurines on the table. One remains trapped between my hands and I turn it end over end.
Harper steps toward me and that figurine goes still. My muscles are tense and I have to force myself to remain in the chair.
She must notice, because she doesn’t come closer. She eases into the chair three seats away.
But then she says softly, “Do not run from me.”
Our words from last night. So much has changed between then and now. One night changed so much, in so many ways. I can offer nothing but failure. This curse has proved that much. In truth, all Lilith provided was a reminder.
I look at Harper and take a breath to make sure my voice is as steady as ever. “I will not run.” I pause, then rise. “But for now, my lady, perhaps you could avoid pursuit.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
HARPER
As days pass, preparations for war—or for the impression of war—hit a fever pitch. A messenger arrives from the North Loc Hills, a town south of the mountain pass, informing Rhen that more soldiers from Syhl Shallow have built a camp there. Suddenly there are people in and around the castle all the time: training in the courtyard and the arena, exercising the horses, and repairing weapons.
Rhen is always occupied. Everyone and everything demands his attention. The only time we spend together is on our rides to neighboring cities, but even then, he’s walled off. He plays the role of doting prince quite well—but the moment the eyes of his people leave us, he becomes distant and distracted.
Grey is always busy, too. He selected ten guardsmen from those who applied, and now his days are filled with drills and training and practice—when he’s not guarding Rhen himself.
To my surprise, Zo was one Grey chose—and the only female. Grey must trust her, because I regularly find her guarding my door when I wake in the morning.
“Did you hire Zo because I made a big deal of it at Silvermoon?” I ask Grey one evening, a rare moment when we’re alone. We’re in the stable, where he’s been taking stock of what horses will be best suited for the guards he’s chosen.
“I hired her because she can fight,” he says. “She is quick with a bow, and surefooted. Her swordplay is weak, but she is not easily distracted. I believe she will do well.”
I watched her spar with one of the other applicants, but I don’t know what I’m looking at, so that didn’t mean much. “But—wasn’t she a musician’s apprentice?”
“Yes, my lady.” He cinches a saddle on a large chestnut gelding. “Just as I was once a farm boy.”
Well, I guess there’s that. He slips a bridle onto the horse’s head.
In the days since people started showing up at the castle, Grey has been more reserved—probably the way he’s supposed to be, out of deference to the Princess of Disi. He’s one of two people who know the truth about me, though, and the only one I can ask about Rhen. In a minute, he’s going to be through the doorway, and I’m going to lose another chance to talk to him.
“Grey,” I say quietly. “Wait. Please.”
He waits, of course, and looks at me, though his expression gives away nothing. I realize he expects an order, or some kind of request.
I don’t want to give him an order. I need him to be my friend.
Maybe I’ve already closed the door on that.
“Forget it,” I say. I suddenly feel more alone than ever. “Go ahead. You’re busy.”
“My lady,” he says quietly.
When I turn back, he’s taken a step closer to me. His eyes search mine. “You are troubled.”
“Rhen’s still not speaking to me,” I say softly.
Grey glances away. He knows.
“Is he speaking to you?”
He hesitates. “No. He is not.”
“Do you think Lilith is secretly torturing him at night?”
Grey glances at the opposite end of the aisle, where a stablehand is sweeping spilled grain. Even when we’re alone, we’re never truly alone anymore.
“We’re riding to Hutchins Forge this evening,” he says.
“I remember.” Some dinner with a Grand Marshal who has his own private army. Rhen said I wasn’t needed.
Grey says, “I do not believe Prince Rhen will be displeased if the journey lasts well into the night.”
Meaning Lilith won’t be able to bother him.
I swallow. “I can’t help him if he won’t talk to me, Grey. He’s not trying to break the curse, he’s not stopping her—” I break off, frustrated. “I’ve been trying to give him space, but … I don’t know what to do.”
Grey moves closer, until his words are for me alone. “He will deny you nothing, my lady. Not even that which he does not want to give.”
Oh. I stare up at him.
Grey draws back. He glances at the doorway and the slowly darkening sky. “Forgive me. The light fades.” He clucks to the horse and heads out of the stables.
Zo waits outside the stables, ready to escort me back to my chambers. When we get to my door, I stop before closing myself inside. “Zo, could you please send word to the prince that I would like to join him on his trip to Hutchins Forge?”
“Yes, my lady.” She gives me a nod and moves away.
While she’s gone, I change out of the rank riding clothes and rinse quickly in the ever-present warmth of the bathtub, then find fresh clothes suitable for visiting with nobility.
A knock sounds at the door.
“Enter,” I say. “Please.”
Zo opens the door and comes in, but her expression says she’s not returning with good news. “His Highness says your presence is not warranted nor required.”
My mouth forms a line. So much for denying me nothing. “Great.”
“I am sorry,” Zo says softly.
Rhen asked me not to pursue him. I’ve been trying. But this isn’t an alliance anymore. It’s … I don’t know what this has turned into.
What did Grey say? Not even that which he does not want to give.
I look up at Zo and wonder if she’ll take my order over Rhen’s. “Call for horses,” I say. “We’re going after them.”
Surprise lights her eyes. I expect her to refuse.
She doesn’t. “Yes, my lady. Right away.”
Hutchins Forge is smaller than Silvermoon, less fortified, and the tired guard waves us through the gate with barely a glance. In many of these cities, we’ve learned, security is only about the monster—not about people.
We’ve been traveling slowly, because I don’t want Rhen to see me following and send me home. My only option here is to join him in front of his subjects, where he won’t risk an incident.
It’s late enough that the streets aren’t crowded, and the horses’ hooves clop on the slush-coated cobblestones. “The Grand Marshal’s residence is there,” says Zo quietly, nodding at a large home that towers over the rest of the city. A bow is strapped to her back, along with a quiver of arrows. “Should we circle around to come from the opposite direction?” She hesitates. “If your goal is to not be detected?”
I give her a surprised glance.
She smiles, but it’s hesitant, as if she’s unsure how I’ll respond. “Was I not to have noticed?”
After Rhen’s aloofness and Grey’s austerity, it’s nice to have a companion who knows how to smile—and who isn’t telling me what to do. I can’t help smiling back. “I’m glad you did.”
We loop through the city streets. Few people are out, but rumor has spread this far. People notice the crest on my cloak or on Zo’s armor, and they bow or curtsy as we pass. We navigate around to the far side of the Grand Marshal’s home, then tie the horses at the post there. A low wall surrounds the building, forming a small empty c
ourtyard out front. The guests have all moved inside.
I study the building. It’s so quiet out here in the lightly falling snow. Candles flicker in every window, but there are no sounds to indicate danger. I have no idea where Rhen and Grey are—or whether this silence is meaningful or menacing.
The courtyard isn’t huge, though, and it’s clear we’re alone.
“The Grand Marshal should have guards,” says Zo quietly. “I was here with the Master of Song at summer’s end. He had four guards in the courtyard.”
Now there are none. I’ve been to enough cities to know this is unusual.
I’ve been so worried about Lilith torturing Rhen that I didn’t really consider what would happen if a threat emerged in one of the cities. Most of our guards are young or untested—as proven by the girl who so eagerly accompanied me out of the castle.
“We should go in,” I finally say.
The snow silences our footsteps. When we move into the courtyard, I realize Zo has drawn her bow.
She freezes and her voice drops to barely more than a breath. “My lady. Just there.”
A body in the snow, hidden in the shadowed corner of the courtyard. Throat cut, a crimson stripe in the snow.
He’s wearing the Royal Guard uniform. It takes me a moment, but then I recognize the shock of red hair. His name is Mave. A knife sticks out of his neck. Snow has collected in the hollows of his face, covering his eyes.
My breathing shakes. We were almost killed in Silvermoon Harbor, and then we had Grey and Jamison. Tonight I have a dagger and I have Zo. It’s so cold and we’re so alone.
I look at her—but she’s looking at me. I’m the princess, and I’m in charge.
I’ve never been in charge of anything. At home, Jake told me what to do. In Emberfall, it’s always Rhen, or, in his own way, it’s Grey.
I feel a flicker of the responsibility Rhen must feel for his people. Zo will do as I say. She’s risking her life.
All I can think about is Grey saying My duty is to bleed so you do not.
“Let’s go,” I say. Zo nods and follows, a shadow at my side. Her arrow sits ready on the string.
A Curse So Dark and Lonely Page 25