A Vow So Bold and Deadly (Cursebreakers, #3)(48)

“Look,” I say. “We’re going to Silvermoon. He’s trying to bolster support, right? If we tell him this happened, he might not go at all.” My insides still ache, and I try not to think about how much it’s going to hurt to ride a horse in an hour. I try not to think about the fact that Rhen might never let me leave my chambers if he hears what Lilith just did.

I try not to think about what Rhen did to Grey and Tycho when he felt betrayed. Lilith just showed me how Rhen acted when a boy spilled tea in his chambers. I’ve never seen Rhen do anything like that now, but I know there’s a sliver of that inside him still.

I try not to think of how Rhen will react if Dustan keeps something from him.

“Let me tell him,” I offer. “Just … let me wait until when we get back.” Dustan still doesn’t look like he’s going to concede, so I say, “It’s just a few hours! What’s the difference?”

He looks at me steadily for a long moment, then sighs. I’m not sure if that’s assent or exasperation, but either way, he doesn’t tell the other guardsman to fetch Rhen. He takes a step back and turns for the door. “You had best prepare, my lady. His Highness will be ready to leave shortly.”

“Yes. Yes, of course.” I start yanking at the bodice ribbon that will probably need to be cut free after Lilith pulled it so tight. “Freya, will you—”

“Yes, my lady. Right away.” She pulls away from Jamison, giving him a long look.

Wait. I didn’t mean to stop whatever was between them. “No. I’m sorry. You can finish … whatever.”

Jamison shakes his head. “I should return to my regiment, my lady.” He holds tight to Freya’s hand before she can pull away, and he bows to her, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I’ll send word when I can.”

Then he’s gone, and her eyes are welling.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “You and Jamison … I didn’t know.”

“I hardly know myself,” she says. “We’ve only just been talking.” She brushes the tears off her cheeks and squares her shoulders. “Forgive me. We should—”

I step forward and wrap her up in a hug. My insides ache and pull and I have to force Lilith’s effects out of my head, and I hold on to my friend.

Freya’s not like Rhen. She lets me hold her, and her face presses into my shoulder—but only for a moment. She begins to pull away. “I am being inappropriate—”

“I’ve cried all over you a dozen times,” I say. “I can return the favor.”

That makes her breath hitch, and she says, “I’ve lost so much, and I didn’t want to dare hope … oh, I can’t think about it.” She draws back. “Did you hear the commander? You must dress.”

I was right about the corset. We have to cut the ribbon to get it free. We’re both quiet and contemplative as she helps me into the pieces of a fancier gown, then urges me onto a stool in front of a mirror to try to tame my curls.

In the mirror, her eyes are still red and swollen.

I hate this. All of it. Every time I get a five-minute break from worry, something new pops up to smack me in the face. Or stab me in the back or whatever Lilith did.

“I can ask him to keep Jamison here,” I say softly. “To assign him to—”

“No,” she says curtly. “And he would not want that anyway. He considers it a great honor to protect Emberfall.” She pauses. “As do I.”

“I know.” I swallow. “Me too.”

Her hand settles on my shoulder, and she gives it a squeeze. “I know. Your bravery now is proof. Your bravery every day is proof.”

I put a hand up to rest over hers, and I squeeze in return. My eyes suddenly feel damp. “You once told me that when the world seems darkest, there exists the greatest opportunity for light.”

She nods at me in the mirror, but then her eyes fill again. “Sometimes I worry that the light can be doused too easily.”

“Then we just light it again,” I say, even though I’m not sure this is true. But I can’t look at her tearstained face and say anything else. Again, I’m reminded of my mother, how she stood by my father for so long, even though he kept making the wrong decisions. I think of Rhen, and I wonder if I’m doing the same thing. My voice almost wavers and I have to steady it. “We light it again and again, as many times as we have to.”

Her eyes meet mine, and she takes a steadying breath. “Yes, my lady.”

A hand raps on the door frame, and I turn, expecting Rhen, but instead, I find Zo there, fully dressed in the leather armor worn by the Royal Guard. I have to do a double take. She looks severe and stoic, and I straighten. “Zo?”

Something in her severe countenance shifts, and she cracks a small smile. “His Highness hired me.”

I almost fall off my stool. “You’re back in the Royal Guard?”

“Ah … no. I’m to be your guard. And only yours.”

I want to tackle her with hugs, but now that she’s in a uniform, it probably wouldn’t be seemly. I squeeze Freya’s hand again. “See?” I say to her. “Another light.”





CHAPTER NINETEEN

RHEN

Before the curse, I had attendants who would help me dress and prepare, valets and manservants who would lay out clothes or shave my face or fasten my buckles. Servants who would have spooned food into my mouth if I’d ordered it.