A Vow So Bold and Deadly (Cursebreakers, #3)(31)

There’s also a shadow in his eyes, something I haven’t seen in months.

My eyes narrow. “Are you unwell?”

“Oh! I—no. I’m fine. I had—I had—” He falters.

I frown. I don’t want to be irritated, because this is unlike Tycho—but my role here is so precarious. I can’t chastise Solt for failing to take drills seriously if my own friends are going to skip out. I can’t expect a unified front from the Syhl Shallow soldiers if I can’t demonstrate it from within my own circle.

“What happened?” I say.

“Nothing.” He swallows. “I didn’t—I didn’t realize the hours passed so quickly.”

Before I was trapped in the curse with Rhen, I watched the royal family of Emberfall dance around truth with ease, so I can tell a lie when I hear one. “You’ve never lied to me before,” I say. “Do not start now.”

Tycho flushes.

“Grey,” says Noah. The easy tone is gone from his voice. “Leave it.”

I go very still. The day has been too long, too full of threats from both inside and outside the palace. I don’t want to have to worry about half-truths and indecision here.

Tycho must read the darkening thoughts behind my eyes, because he ducks to grab his bracers and weapons. “Forgive me,” he says quickly, and his voice is low and repentant.

Maybe Jake can sense my mood too, because he says, “Tycho. Find your unit leader and see if you can run the drills now.”

Tycho was moving toward the doorway, but at that, he hesitates.

Noah looks at Jake, and some unspoken message must pass between them, because Jake straightens, pushing away from the table. “You know what? Never mind. I’ll do it.” He takes another bite of his apple. “Come on, T.”

Once they’re gone, the infirmary falls very quiet. I don’t like feeling at odds with Noah. He has an easy sensibility: never aggressive, never overbearing. His bravery is simple, uncomplicated. Like the day he left Rhen and Ironrose behind, when Noah feels strongly about something, he’s calm and collected about it, but his will is iron strong.

So is mine.

He’s regarding me evenly. “He’s only fifteen, Grey.”

“I was seventeen when I joined the Royal Guard.”

He snorts. “Maybe you’ve been twenty for too long, because there’s a lot of ground between fifteen and seventeen.”

He’s probably right on both counts, but I don’t like it. “When I was fifteen, I was trying to run my family’s farm.”

“And how did that turn out?”

His voice is quiet, not cruel, but the words hit me like a dart anyway. He knows how that turned out. My family nearly starved. It’s the very reason I joined the Royal Guard: I could forswear my family, and they would be rewarded richly for losing me to the castle. I don’t need the reminder of my failures or my sacrifices, especially not right now. “Do you seek a fight with me, Noah?”

“No.” His tone doesn’t change.

“I did not force Tycho into the army,” I say fiercely. I take a step forward. “It was his choice to join the recruits. I did not demand—”

“Hey.” He lifts a hand, and his voice is placating. “I know you’re under a lot of pressure. I’m just asking you to take it easy on him, okay?”

I hesitate, then run a hand across the back of my neck. My frustration is not with Noah. It’s not even with Tycho, really.

If I’m being strictly honest with myself, my frustration isn’t with the soldiers here, either.

It’s with Rhen. It’s with myself.

I sigh and lean against the table.

Something bats at my ankle, strong taps that I can feel through the leather of my greaves. I look down and see the kitten has emerged from under the table, and it’s smacking at my boot laces with its paws. I lean down to scoop the creature into my hands.

It immediately digs in with claws that seem to rival Iisak’s. I let go with a swear, and it bolts under the table again. Blood appears in stripes across my fingers.

Noah is laughing. “That kitten only lets Tycho and Iisak touch him.” He reaches for a square of cloth. “Cat scratches get infected easily. Let me get you—” He stops short and sobers as the wounds on my fingers magically close. “Well. Never mind. I forgot.”

The air between us goes quiet again. The tension has lessened a bit. Maybe it was all on my side to begin with. “What happened?” I say. “Why did Tycho come here?”

Noah hesitates. “I don’t want to betray his trust.”

“If the other recruits are bothering him, I should know.”

He shakes his head slightly. “I don’t think they’re doing anything wrong. I think they’re … just being soldiers.” He pauses. “When the guardsmen first took Tycho from Rillisk, he hid in the infirmary with me then, too.”

In Ironrose. When Rhen captured me. The guards took Tycho prisoner to use as leverage against me. He clung to the shadows and refused to speak to them.

When we worked at Worwick’s in Rillisk, Tycho was afraid of soldiers there, too. He’d make himself scarce when they came to the tourney, or he’d stick by my side in the stables. I spent an eternity as a swordsman, but Tycho was never afraid of me in Rillisk. He was the first person I trusted. I might’ve been the first person he trusted.