The Shadow Throne (The Ascendance Trilogy, #3)(69)

That made me sigh. “You’re the captain of my guard, aren’t you? Surely you can take a few hits by now. Besides, the pain will be forgotten once the ropes go around our necks.”

“I don’t want a rope going around my neck, Jaron! That’s the part you need to figure out.”

“Well, it probably will! You have to settle with that reality before we can figure anything out.”

He calmed down and my attention went back to Imogen. With the wound in her shoulder, this night had been hard on her. But she was trying to stay strong and smiled back at me when our eyes met. I was overwhelmed with love for her. The warmth of it filled every vein of my body, consumed my fears and anger, and left in their place only a desire to be happy. It was what Mott had wished for me, to find happiness, to accept love as a far stronger force than any weapon. I ached to think of Mott, with no idea of whether he had survived.

“I promise to devise a plan,” I said, “but until then, I think we should play a good joke, for when the vigils return for us.”

Roden cocked an eyebrow, intrigued by the suggestion. Imogen muttered something about the foolishness of boys. She was probably right about that, so I couldn’t argue her point. Also, I loved her, so I had no intention of arguing.

It took some straining against my chains and some creative footwork, but eventually I nudged the old bandages in the corner toward me. Once I had them in my hands, I unwound them to their full length.

“What are you going to do with those?” Roden asked. “You’re not injured.”

“The vigils are forbidden from harming me tonight. Vargan was very clear that I wasn’t to come out tomorrow looking like a martyr.” My grin widened. “But don’t worry, Avenia already fell for this trick once before. They love it.” I was remembering when I was with the thieves and had used bandages to make Vargan think I had the plague. Neither Imogen nor Roden were with me then, so they didn’t understand the joke. But they would soon. I maneuvered my hands enough to wind the bandage around my ankle and calf, and then tucked the end back inside the wrapping. It was haphazardly done, but considering the limitations of my chains, I was actually impressed with the finished product.

“That’s your trick?” Roden asked. “Can’t you take this seriously?”

“If you understood what Vargan’s men did to me, you’d know exactly how serious I am.”

“Jaron, tomorrow we are —”

“Hush now,” I said. “Imogen needs to sleep, I need to think, and you need to . . . let me think.”

Roden made a face, but he did give me some silence. Imogen stared at me for several minutes before finally closing her eyes. And I turned away and set to the task of figuring out a way to survive the next day.





True to Vargan’s word, the vigils came for me again at first light, Terrowic and Commander Kippenger amongst them. I asked if anyone had something to eat, but they only laughed at me. I actually would have liked some food and didn’t appreciate their laughter.

Roden was unchained first and immediately balled his fists, as if eager for a fight. I wondered how he’d do against these vigils while unarmed. He probably wouldn’t last as long as he thought he could.

They came for me next, and took great care in ensuring I never had a free hand. While they worked, I looked at Imogen and said, “I want you to marry me one day.”

Now the tears spilled over her cheeks. “Look where we are.”

I smiled back at her. “We won’t marry here, of course. But in the great hall of my castle, in front of the entire kingdom.”

Imogen bit her lip and nodded. “Yes, Jaron. I will marry you there.”

“Then I’ll find you soon. But if I don’t — if I can’t — then be happy and know I loved you.”

More tears fell, but she said nothing.

The vigils pulled me forward, and saw me favoring the ankle wrapped in bandages. Pretending to favor it, actually.

Commander Kippenger asked, “What happened to your foot? It wasn’t in bandages last night.”

I winced as I limped forward another step. “Terrowic came in during the night and hurt me.” It was a better-told lie than most I’d ever uttered, and one of the few for which I didn’t feel the slightest shred of guilt. “He tried to wrap it and hoped you wouldn’t notice.”

“I — no, I — didn’t!” Terrowic sputtered.

“We begged him to stop,” Roden said, joining the fun. “But he wanted his revenge before Jaron’s execution.”

“They’re lying!” Terrowic was completely flustered by now.

“I can’t walk far enough to sign the surrender papers,” I continued. “You should tell Vargan to delay the signing for another month while I heal.”

“You’ll sign even if we have to carry you there!” Without warning, Kippenger rounded on Terrowic and cracked a fist against his jaw. “How dare you defy the king’s orders!” Then he ordered his other vigils, “Take him to my room and lock him in there. I will set a harsh discipline for him after the execution.”

Kippenger’s vigils gripped Terrowic’s arms and started to lead him away, still protesting. With everyone watching Terrowic, I clicked my tongue to get his attention. I looked down at my ankle, wiggled it back and forth, then winked at him. He pointed at me and made an objection, but by then my expression had returned to one of appropriate pain and suffering, and he was quickly whisked back up the stairs for his punishment.