A Vow So Bold and Deadly (Cursebreakers, #3)(7)

“When I took the children to visit Evalyn last week,” she says. “We saw him on the road back.” She pauses. “He was very kind. He accompanied us to the castle.”

“Oh.” I’m not sure what to make of that. I used to spend so much time with the guards and soldiers. I would train alongside them. I’d be included in their banter and gossip. For the first time in my life, no one treated me like a liability. Like I was incapable. I felt like I belonged.

Now every interaction I have feels weighted with suspicion. I didn’t realize how important that feeling of belonging had grown until it was gone.

Now the only person I train with is Zo.

I have to clear my throat. I wish I’d known Freya was going to see Evalyn, because I would have joined her, just for an excuse to talk to someone. But maybe I wasn’t welcome.

I hate this.

A knock sounds at my door, and my breath catches. It’s probably Rhen, so I call, “Enter.”

It’s not Rhen. It’s Zo. The door swings open and she strides in, wearing a dress in a darker crimson than my own, her bodice so dark it’s almost black, with cherry-red lacings. Her muscled arms are bare, her braids twisting down her back to her waist.

“Wow,” I say.

Zo smiles and offers me a curtsy. “You too.”

“You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

She shrugs a little. “I … wasn’t sure I was.” She strokes her hands along the skirts and sighs. “But it would be foolish to offend the crown prince again.”

I frown.

“Don’t look like that,” she says. “I thought maybe you’d want a friend anyway.”

Against my will, tears fill my eyes, and I step forward to hug her.

Her arms are tight against my back, but she says, “You’ll undo all of Freya’s hard work.”

“You’re such a good friend,” I say. “I don’t deserve you.”

She draws back to look at me, her eyes searching mine. “Yes, you do.”

Freya steps forward and begins pinning tiny white flowers into my hair. She has red ones in her hands, and I expect her to add them, but she turns to Zo. “Here,” she says. “A finishing touch.”

Zo holds still, her hands gentle on mine.

In another life, we’d be getting ready for prom, not getting ready for a party that’s really an excuse to build alliances in anticipation of war.

I draw a shaky breath.

Zo’s eyes are steady on mine. “You rallied them once before,” she says quietly.

“I have no armies this time,” I whisper. “I have nothing to offer.”

She regards me soberly, then leans in to kiss me on the cheek. “You had none then, Princess.”

That’s true. Somehow I’d forgotten. My breathing steadies.

When I first came here, I knew what was right. I risked my life for this country. So did Grey, a thousand times over. I would never have allowed anyone to make me feel guilty for helping the people of Emberfall. I would never have let anyone make me feel like I’d made a poor choice by helping Grey.

I shouldn’t be allowing it now.

As we turn for the door, I catch a glimpse of us in the mirror. The dresses are truly stunning together, a clear signal that we stand for Emberfall.

Rhen once asked me to be his ally, to present a united front to his people. To stand at his side. This … this is different. I’m not a billboard.

Anger, familiar and not entirely unwelcome, builds in my belly, chasing away everything else.

“Wait,” I say, pulling Zo to a stop. “Freya?” I tug the bow of my bodice loose. “We’re both going to need another dress.”



Rhen has spared no expense, and considering that he only issued a summons for this “party” a week ago, I’m sure it wasn’t cheap. The call for loyalty to Emberfall is evident in every red tablecloth, in every gold candlestick, in the massive crest hung over the fireplace in the Great Hall. Musicians have been stationed in the corner, their playing lively and vibrant, a melody chosen to project confidence. The castle doors stand open, allowing the night air to flow into the space. Guards stand at assigned intervals, their weapons and armor gleaming, while servants carry loaded trays to the tables. I can smell the food from the top of the staircase.

The hour is still early, so only a few dozen people fill the room. These will be the true loyalists, the Grand Marshals and their Seneschals from towns who’ve already sworn fealty to Rhen. These will be the people who want to be seen arriving first, as if they’re among the prince’s inner circle, even though Rhen himself hasn’t deigned to join them yet. They’ve brought their own guards, too, which isn’t unusual, but a bunch of armed men and women lining the walls doesn’t make for a very welcoming party.

A page at the top of the staircase steps forward as if he’s planning to announce us, but I wave him away. My heart thrums in my chest, and I smooth my hands along the navy blue of my skirts. The last thing I need is for Rhen to hear us being announced without him. He’d be pissed, and I’d probably knock him down the stairs.

I hate feeling this way.

Zo studies me, and as usual, she can practically read my thoughts. “We have not yet been announced,” she murmurs. “We can return to your chambers. There is still time to wear the dresses he selected.”