A Vow So Bold and Deadly (Cursebreakers, #3)(43)

Until that day, I’d never seen a guardsman put a foot wrong. I’d never heard one speak in anything more than a measured, deliberate tone, always with deference to the royal family.

But that morning, I watched as one guardsman shoved another into the stone wall, and two more tried to pry them apart. Their words turned into a fiery string of profanity that would’ve made my mother blush, but I was fascinated.

Then one of them saw me, because he swore and hissed, “The prince. The prince.”

They jerked apart and snapped to attention. I was so startled by their reaction that I did, too. I know now that they were probably afraid of earning a reprimand, but I was worried about being found here and angering my father. I wasn’t so young that I hadn’t learned the ramifications of his temper.

One of them must have finally found the courage to peel himself off the wall—or maybe he could read my own fear—because he approached and said, “Your Highness. Have you lost your way?”

I don’t remember what he looked like, or even what his name was. I don’t have any idea why they were arguing, or whether it continued once I was out of earshot. I just remember that his voice was kind, and I knew I would not be in trouble. I remember that he was startled when I took his hand, the way I would do when I went for a walk with my nurse.

I remember it being the first time I realized my father’s guards—my guards—had thoughts and feelings and actions that had nothing to do with the royal family, that they all would speak an oath, but it would mean something different to each man or woman who gave it.

This memory brings another. This one is less welcome.

Do you regret your oath?

I do not.

This is our final season, Commander. You must know you can speak freely.

I do speak freely, my lord.

My chest tightens, and I have to breathe through it. I don’t want to think of Grey, but as usual, my thoughts give no heed to what I want.

I stop in front of a door near the end of the hallway. Dustan and Copper, another of my guards, have trailed me here, and I can all but feel their curiosity in the air around us, but they won’t question me.

Usually my presence is announced, but I am already at odds with Zo, and I do not want to stand on ceremony, so I knock at her door.

“Ugh!” she yells, her voice muffled from the other side of the solid wood. “Go off, you fools.”

I raise my eyebrows and turn to look at Dustan. He meets my gaze steadily. “Some of the guardsmen may harbor a bit of resentment that she has remained in her quarters.”

“Do you?”

“No, my lord.”

I wonder if that’s true. He must harbor a bit if he’s allowing it to continue unchecked.

He clears his throat. “She does not endear herself. Her violin can be heard through the hallways hours before sunrise.”

I almost smile. It’s no wonder Zo and Harper are friends.

“I can hear you out there plotting,” Zo says from the other side of the door, her tone sharp. “Don’t you have better things to do with your time?” The lock rattles, and the door swings open. Zo has one hand wrapped around a dagger, and the other balled into a fist.

She takes one look at me and her eyes flare wide. “Oh!” She lowers the dagger. “Your Highness. I—forgive me—” She drops into a curtsy. “I should not—my words were not—”

“Not for me. I know. May I come in?”

The surprise vanishes from her eyes, replaced with a hint of suspicion. For a moment, I expect her to refuse, and I’m not sure what I’ll do. There’s probably a part of her that wants to use that dagger on me.

But she doesn’t. She takes a step back, drawing the door open wide. “Of course.”

I step into her quarters. The room is small but well appointed, like all of the guards’ lodgings. No windows, because the Royal Guard could not be vulnerable to attack, but there are a few narrow slats between the bricks to allow fresh air into the space. A wide lantern hangs in one corner, casting shadows along the whitewashed walls. A small wood stove sits in the other corner, thickening the air with warmth. At the foot of the bed is a wide chest, and a slim closet lines the front wall. The table is covered with books and parchment and a writing set. A rack is built into the rear wall to hold weapons and armor, but Zo doesn’t have much of that anymore, and one of the racks holds her violin.

Dustan and Copper have followed me inside, and there’s hardly room for all of us to stand. Zo watches as I take in the state of her quarters, and her gaze flicks to the guardsmen at my back. When my eyes return to hers, she swallows.

“I would have left without resistance, Your Highness,” she says quietly.

I frown. “What?”

“The guards are unnecessary. I would have left at your order. I know …” She hesitates and seems to brace herself. “I know you believe I would act in defiance to the Crown, but I would not—”

“Zo. You think I am here to order your dismissal?”

She glances at Dustan and Copper again. “I … yes?”

“No,” I say. “I believe I acted too hastily when I stripped you of your role with the Royal Guard.”

That cynical look is back in Zo’s eye. “You do?”

“My lord,” says Dustan, his voice tight.