A Vow So Bold and Deadly (Cursebreakers, #3)(50)

Harper must think that Dustan was going to keep her confidence, because otherwise she’d be out in the hallway right now, pleading with me.

“Who else knows?” I say to him, and my voice is rough.

“Copper. Freya. The soldier Jamison.”

So she not only asked my guard commander to keep a secret, she did it in front of others. I thought we had found a path to honesty and mutual respect, but perhaps I was wrong. My jaw is tight.

“Fine,” I say. I turn to storm down the remaining distance to Harper’s chambers.

I remember the second day she was here, she packed up foods from the kitchens to take to people who were lacking. Grey and I had to chase after her—again—and I asked why she did not ask for assistance.

Because I didn’t think you would do it, she said.

Shame curled in my belly at the time.

This moment does not feel unlike that one.

I stop in her doorway. A part of me was worried I would find her trembling and anxious, somewhat broken after facing Lilith. But she’s not. She’s resplendent in a violet gown meant for riding, a black leather corset laced along her waist, with a dagger belt drooping over one hip. Her hair is braided into twin plaits that are pinned to her head, with a few curls escaping, and her eyes have been lined in dark kohl. She doesn’t look afraid. She looks like a warrior princess.

She had been speaking in low tones to Freya and Zo, but she stops short when she sees me. Her eyes flare wide. “Rhen.”

Do you have so little faith in me? I want to say.

I think I know the answer, and some of my waiting anger withers like my confidence. I feel as though we stare at each other across a distance of miles. I hate this.

So many words wait for a chance to escape my lips, but all I say is “I have called for horses, my lady.”

When I turn away, Dustan is taking a slip of paper from a servant who bobs a quick curtsy to me. Dustan reads it quickly and says, “Chesleigh Darington has returned from Syhl Shallow with information.”

My spy. I have a war to wage. There are more important things at risk than my pride.

Harper appears in the doorway. “Rhen,” she says. “What’s wrong?”

I lock away any emotion and say, “Nothing at all.” I look at Dustan. “Tell Chesleigh we are about to depart for Silvermoon Harbor.”

“I will have the servants prepare a room for her to wait—”

“No. Give her a fresh horse. I want her to come along.”





CHAPTER TWENTY

HARPER

I was so relieved to know Rhen hired Zo to ride at my side today, to think we’re finally on the same page and working toward a common goal that will satisfy Lilith. But now we’re riding to Silvermoon and he’s as cold and aloof as ever, choosing to ride alongside his spy instead of with me. I should be happy—he’s talking about military strategy and taking action. But my insides still ache from Lilith’s treatment, making me uncomfortable and short-tempered as we ride for miles, and I can’t help but think something has happened between us.

Maybe it’s Chesleigh. I’ve heard her name spoken a dozen times, sometimes with reverence and sometimes with scorn, about how she’s demanding piles of silver in exchange for valuable information about Syhl Shallow, how she has information about a faction that is standing against magic. She’s ingratiated herself with Rhen’s generals, and clearly with the prince himself. For some reason I envisioned a grisly, weathered soldier, someone older and jaded by war and politics. I didn’t expect someone less than ten years older than me, someone with brutal confidence and clear skill, someone who’s captured Rhen’s attention not with flirtation or flattery, but with sheer competence.

I don’t want to resent her. Especially not for those things. It’s good that we have someone competent working alongside us. But I keep thinking about how I’ve spent months learning how to find my balance during swordplay so I can protect myself, while this woman has been to Syhl Shallow and back with something to offer the kingdom. Lilith is using me to manipulate Rhen in this war, and I can’t even stop her. It makes me feel more like a hindrance than a help.

I don’t like these thoughts.

I can’t shake them loose.

I remember when I first arrived in Emberfall, how I thought it would be so easy to help Rhen’s people. I would throw a few pastries and meat pies into a satchel and deliver them to the inn.

It would not be enough to feed all of my subjects, Rhen said.

Yes, but it would feed some of them, Rhen, I replied.

Some, but not all.

I remember thinking that should be enough. And it was, for a while. But the all comprised so many people.

I keep thinking of Freya’s tears over Jamison. She has lost so much.

Zo rides close. “You have said very little since we left Ironrose.” She peers at me. “Are you unwell?”

“Oh. No, I’m fine.” I can’t very well say that I’m feeling insecure. I straighten my back and tell myself to get it together. “I was listening.”

Chesleigh is talking about soldiers stationed just inside Emberfall’s border. “They’ve met no opposition, so the forces have been doubled,” she’s saying. “They’ve made camp some fifty miles northwest of Blind Hollow, at the base of the mountains. But they have orders to hold their position.”