A Vow So Bold and Deadly (Cursebreakers, #3)(74)

“This is reckless and irresponsible,” she hisses. “Rhen’s army will have the advantage.”

I ignore her and keep walking.

“You will look like a fool,” she says. “Grey will agree with me. You will see.”

I say nothing.

“Your officers already think you are weak,” she continues, “and now you are going to change course on an order that was issued half an hour ago.”

“An order you gave,” I snap, but there’s a tiny, bothersome needle of doubt that keeps poking me in the back. It will look weak to have such a forceful order issued—and to then walk it back. But that’s her fault, not mine.

That needle of doubt tells me it won’t matter, that weakness is weakness.

It’s a weakness that these assassination attempts seem to emphasize as well. Too much is uncertain. Even among those who are loyal to me, magic is still distrusted. Grey is still distrusted. My steps almost falter.

But we draw close to the sparring soldiers, and I realize many of them have gathered to watch a match near the center of the field. It takes me a moment to recognize Grey, because it’s so rare that I’m on the field to see him fight. He’s so gentle and patient with me that I’ve forgotten he can be so fierce, so focused, so relentless. Their swords spin in the dim sunlight, cracking together with such force that it makes me flinch from here. The snow under their boots has turned to muddy slush, but neither of the men seems to be fighting for footing. The battle looks effortless and lethal. Downright vicious.

I don’t realize I’ve stopped until Nolla Verin speaks at my shoulder. “You see. He will agree with me. This army will agree with me.”

The needle of doubt pokes me again.

Grey’s opponent is that soldier he ordered to fight over and over again, Captain Solt. Is this a real battle? Are they fighting in earnest?

I stride forward again. The soldiers part as we approach, bowing as I stride among them, but my eyes are on the fight. My stomach churns as I think of all the ways the army could take these small struggles.

Solt makes a move, but Grey ducks and surges forward. For the first time, Solt loses his footing and goes down, skidding through the mud and snow. At my shoulder, Nolla Verin sucks in a breath. I expect Grey to drive his blade right through the fallen man’s body.

But he doesn’t. He sheathes his sword. He holds out a hand. He’s smiling.

Solt takes his hand and pulls himself to his feet. He’s smiling, too. “You are too quick, Your Highness.”

“I’m lucky.” Grey shakes out his arm. “You strike like a hammer.”

“You’re both lucky,” says Jake, standing off to the side. “I thought someone was going to lose a hand.”

I lose a moment to staring. I’m not sure what just happened here.

Solt notices me first, and he straightens and sobers immediately. “Your Majesty.”

Grey turns, and some of that vicious focus shifts to warmth when he meets my eyes. It’s such an intent look, such a private look, that I feel a blush crawling up my neck already. When he says “Your Majesty,” it makes me shiver.

I watch as his eyes take me in, then my surely fuming sister at my shoulder, then the guards that trail us. He looks to a squire standing nearby, then steps over and claims the cloak he must have abandoned before the fight. I expect him to draw it around his own shoulders, but I forgot the customs he brings from Emberfall, so I’m startled when he draws it around me. My blush fades. I see exchanged glances among the soldiers, and I wonder if this, too, will be seen as a weakness.

“Are you well?” he says, his voice very low.

“I am well.” I pause. “I understand my sister issued an order to have a company sent through the mountain pass.”

“We received word of Nolla Verin’s intent,” Grey says.

Of course he did. It hasn’t been long, but Grey doesn’t hesitate. He probably already sent women and men to the mountain pass.

Then he adds, “I told the captains we will have soldiers readied, but we would wait for the order to come from the queen herself.”

I stare at him. I want to throw my arms around his neck. I want to burst into tears.

Neither of those options is queenly. I nod, but my voice feels breathy. “Good. I would like to wait until we have reached the end of our promised time.”

“This is foolhardy!” Nolla Verin explodes. “You have an opportunity to take advantage, and you will waste it.”

Grey looks at her, and his eyes are cool and hard like steel. “So you believe we need to cheat? Do you doubt the strength and ability of our army?”

That draws her up short. I watch as soldiers exchange glances again.

Our army. Such simple words, tacked into a simple sentence, but I can feel the weight of them as they reverberate through the soldiers who heard them, repeated in whispers among the others. Nolla Verin has fought among them for years. Many of them assumed she would be in my place.

But she’s not. I am queen here, and she’s the one who told me I had to fight for myself. Maybe she doesn’t realize it, but she’s the one forcing me to take a stand: not assassins, not Grey, not my people. My sister.

“Do you believe you have the right to countermand your queen?” I say, and the whispers grow in volume.

“Nayah,” snaps Solt, and the soldiers jump to attention. Silence falls over the fields.