A Vow So Bold and Deadly (Cursebreakers, #3)(19)

I hold very still. I would give every scrap of silver in Emberfall to my new spy if she could appear with a weapon that would stop Lilith right this moment. My fingers long to grip tight to the girl in my arms, as if I could keep her safe by sheer strength of will. “I have made preparations to go to war. I will stand against Grey. I have done as you asked.”

“Good boy,” she breathes. Her lips brush against mine, and I snap back. Harper shifts in my arms.

Lilith smiles. “No matter what you tell her, she cannot cross the veil without my assistance. If I take her away, you will have no way to reach her.”

“I will do as you ask,” I say. “You have my word.”

“Good.” She traces a finger along the scar on Harper’s cheek before I can jerk her away.

Harper startles awake, slapping a palm to her cheek. Her breathing is quick and rapid. “Rhen. What—who—you.” She goes very still in my arms.

“Yes. Me.” Lilith’s eyes flash with danger in the darkness, and she hisses the words like a snake. “You weak, broken, worthless little—”

Harper launches herself out of my arms, and I realize a moment too late that she’s seized the dagger from my belt.

“No!” I cry. I remember the last time she threw a weapon at the enchantress.

But Harper doesn’t throw it. She drives the blade right into Lilith’s midsection, throwing her weight into the movement and bringing the enchantress to the floor. Harper kneels on her arm, then wraps the fist of her free hand in Lilith’s hair.

She leans down close. “Go ahead,” she whispers. “Take me home. Let’s see how long you live on my side.”

Wind swirls through the room, making the candles go out and the flames in the hearth flicker. Lilith is gasping, either from shock or pain. “I will make you pay—”

“He’s doing what you want him to do. Did Grey give you that scar? I bet I can make a bigger one.”

“Harper.” I can’t breathe. “Harper, please.”

Lilith is practically drooling with rage. “I will end you—”

“Then do it. Lose the only leverage you have.” Harper leans down closer. “You’re the weak one,” she whispers. Lilith screams in rage, then slashes her free hand against Harper’s arm.

Harper cries out and snaps back. Blood has appeared in three long stripes across her bicep.

My door swings open. Guardsmen charge in, drawn by their screams.

Lilith disappears, leaving nothing but the dagger and a stain of blood on the floor.

Harper slaps a hand over her arm. She’s all but wheezing. “Is it bad?” she says. “I can’t look at it.”

I’m staring at her, and it takes a moment for my eyes to leave her face. I pull at her fingers gingerly. The sleeve of her dress is shredded, the slashes bleeding freely.

Dustan appears at my side, and he drops to a knee.

“Brandyn,” he says to one of the guards. “Fetch a physician. The princess will need stitches.”

Harper sighs. “More scars. Great.”

I can’t stop staring at her in wonder.

“What?” she says.

I have no words. “How—how did you—” I break off. “How?”

“I hate her,” she says simply. “It wasn’t hard. Or do you mean, how did I know how to pin her like that?”

“Who?” says Dustan.

“Yes,” I say.

“Easy.” Harper picks up the blade, wipes it on the skirts of her ruined dress, and holds it out to me, hilt first. Her eyes are fierce and determined. “Zo taught me.”





CHAPTER NINE

LIA MARA

When I used to imagine being queen, my dreams involved my people finding peace at last. I would rule with gentle firmness instead of my mother’s vicious brutality, and my subjects would thrive. No one would fear me. I never wanted to be feared. I thought my people would rejoice.

I never thought someone would be begging me to sever limbs right in the middle of my throne room.

“Your Majesty,” whispers Clanna Sun, the woman who used to be Mother’s chief advisor—who is now my chief advisor. “You will need to take some action.”

“You should cut his hands off,” growls the woman in front of me. Her name is Kallara, and she owns a small farm far to the north, right along the Frozen River. Her hands are gnarled and her skin is weathered from a lifetime of hard labor. “Even if an apple falls from the tree, it doesn’t make it free.”

“I didn’t steal an apple!” snaps the man, another landowner named Bayard. “I planted on my land.”

“It’s my land,” shouts Kallara.

“Mine!” he roars. His cheeks are red, his eyes bulging out with fury.

“Not surprising that a man lacks the intelligence to measure distance,” says Kallara. “Perhaps our wise queen will grant your lands to me, and I can put you to work in the fields where you belong.”

“I was in the fields where I belong!”

“Cut all their hands off,” Nolla Verin, my sister, mutters from her throne on my opposite side. Ellia Maya, another advisor who’s always been close to my sister, laughs under her breath. Nolla Verin flashes her a smile.