A Vow So Bold and Deadly (Cursebreakers, #3)(26)

“Do not think of it as hiding. Think of it as … strategic positioning.”

I make a very unqueenly sound. “Said by someone who never hides from anything.”

“I hid with you in the woods for days on end.”

“That was different.”

“How?” He pauses, his voice changing, becoming wry. “And I strategically positioned myself in Rillisk for months.”

I’ve heard his stories of Rillisk, how he fled Ironrose and took a job as a stable hand. How he worked in the shadows with Tycho, until the day he volunteered to fight in the stead of a man who was injured, and ended up revealing himself to Dustan, the commander of Rhen’s Royal Guard.

“Iisak once asked me why I took a job near the lowest rungs of Emberfall’s society,” Grey says.

I pick at a twist of dough left on my plate. “Why did you?”

He shrugs a little. “I’m not sure, really. I like horses. I knew how to do the job.” His voice has grown heavy, and he hesitates, fiddling with the handle of his knife. “My life had been so entwined with loss and fear and anguish for so long. I think I longed for … simplicity.”

Because of the curse. “If only Rhen longed for the same.”

Grey frowns. “In truth … I think he does.” He pauses. “I sometimes wonder if his actions were not solely due to fear of magic, but resentment that the curse was broken, yet he was still trapped. Envy that I was able to find freedom while he was not.”

I suck in a breath, because Rhen’s actions toward Grey and Tycho were truly terrible, and this seems to make them more so. “You can’t excuse what he did, Grey.”

“I surely can.” He looks at me steadily. “I fled my birthright—but it allowed me to escape, for a time. It allowed me to find myself in a way I never could during the curse. Rhen never had that opportunity.”

I lean in against the table. “He had you whipped—”

“The enchantress tortured him. Many times, and far worse than a flogging.” Grey’s shoulders are tense now, his hand still against the knife, his eyes cold and dark. “There were days when … when … when she—”

He breaks off suddenly, and takes a long breath, which is very unlike him. “Well. Your mother would likely admire her methods. But Rhen wouldn’t allow Lilith to torture me.” His eyes shy away from mine. “So she did it to him. Season after season.”

Grey rarely talks about the time during the curse, when he was trapped alone with Rhen in that castle. When he does, his tone grows heavy. He blames himself for so much, I know, but this is the first time I’ve learned this about Rhen.

It’s the first time, the only time, I’ve been able to garner a kernel of sympathy for the man.

“You never told me that,” I say softly.

He looks away. “What’s done is done.”

I reach out a hand and rest it over his. There are scars along his wrist, marring the smoothness of his skin, from before he knew how to use magic to heal himself. They’re nothing compared to the scars on his back from what Rhen did.

Grey tenses for a moment when I touch him. I’ve learned that he’s always startled by a gentle touch, because he went so long without it. He grew so used to being alone that touch and kindness became foreign.

He eases quickly, then turns his hand to capture mine. “None of these things matter if we are going to march on Emberfall to claim his kingdom.”

“Do you think there’s any chance he’ll yield?” I ask. “We gave him sixty days.”

“When I was dragged in front of him in chains, Rhen released me and said we should have been friends.” Grey hesitates. “I thought, in that moment, that he might yield. That he might allow me my freedom.” Another pause. “That he might trust me when I said I was trying to protect him.”

Instead, the very next night, Rhen chained Grey and Tycho to a wall and ordered his guards to find a pair of whips.

“He won’t yield,” I say.

“No.” Grey’s expression is cool again, the emotion of a few moments ago locked away. “I won’t either.”

“How go your efforts with the army?”

Grey grunts and draws himself up. “Many of your soldiers don’t seem to want magic on the training fields with them.” He pauses. “Many don’t seem to want me at all.”

“But you are our ally,” I say fiercely.

“It was not long ago that I was your enemy,” he says. “There are soldiers I faced in battle who I am now commanding. That would not be easy for me, so I can understand why it is not easy for them.”

I set my jaw. I know he’s right. Maybe I’m naive to think it could be any other way.

“So we’re about to lead a fractured army into Emberfall, to face a fractured country.”

“Yes.” He sighs heavily. “Our mission of peace.”

I sigh too. It feels wrong to bring peace with an army—but I cannot sacrifice my people to a cursed prince’s pride.

A serving girl steps between the guards to come remove our platters.

As she moves near me, light glints on a bit of glass. I have a flash of memory of the woman who attacked me, and I gasp and flinch away.

Aria, my guard, is at my side in less than a second. She has a blade drawn. So does Grey.