A Vow So Bold and Deadly (The Cursebreaker Series Book 3)
A Vow So Bold and Deadly: Chapter 34

Jake follows me, which I expected, but so do Solt and Nolla Verin. I expected Lia Mara to join me as well, but she chose to remain behind to soothe the ruffled feathers of Clanna Sun and General Torra. She hasn’t said so, but she’s unsettled by Harper being here.

I am too, but likely not for the reasons she thinks.

Lilith is back. I don’t know how she survived. I remember cutting her throat on the other side, in Washington, DC.

And now she is tormenting Rhen again.

I wonder how long it has gone on. I think back to the times I saw Rhen after fleeing to Rillisk. Was she there when he had me dragged back in chains? He was so frightened of magic then. And again when I arrived with Lia Mara to offer him sixty days. He flinched away when I drew near. Despite everything, worry and uncertainty tugs at me. I know what she can do. I know what she’s done.

When we reach the hall that leads to the infirmary, I stop and turn to Jake. “You should wait here.”

He glances at Solt and Nolla Verin, and while Jake has never been at odds with anyone here the way that I have, Harper’s appearance has changed that. “No way,” he says.

“If your sister’s motives are innocent, you should have nothing to fear,” says Nolla Verin.

“My sister wouldn’t have come here if she wasn’t desperate,” Jake snaps.

“Enough,” I say, and I keep my voice low. Jake’s eyes are fierce, his jaw tight. His devotion to his sister will not help us here. “Wait,” I say to him. “Please.”

I watch as defiance swells in his eyes, and I expect him to try to shove past me, my request be damned. When Jake and I first met, he was belligerent and antagonistic, but he’s also brave and loyal, just like his sister. In the moment I asked him to stand as my second, I said, “Taking orders requires trust, Jake. You would have to trust me.”

“I can do that,” he said then.

This is the first time I’ve ever asked him to prove it.

For an eternal moment, he says nothing, and anger clouds his expression. But he finally takes a step back to stand against the wall. “Fine,” he bites out.

I clap him on the shoulder and move on. At my back, Solt murmurs something to Nolla Verin, and I inwardly sigh. All of our attempts to unite our people were beginning to have an effect, and now it’s all seeming to unravel.

The infirmary is always a bit cold, because Noah often gets so distracted by his work that he forgets to add another log to the hearth, and this afternoon is no different. He’s sitting on a stool beside a narrow cot where Harper is huddled under a loose knit blanket, and he appears to be wrapping her ankle in lengths of muslin. Neither of them face the doorway, and Tycho sits on the empty cot beside them, the tiny orange kitten in his lap, chewing on the corner of his bracers. He’s speaking shyly. “Noah said I should name him Salam. It means ‘peace’ in … I forget.”

“Arabic,” says Noah.

“And then Iisak said—”

“Wait,” says Harper. “Who’s Iisak?”

“Tycho,” I say, and he startles so badly that the kitten leaps off his lap to disappear under the work bench, where it hisses at me petulantly.

“Grey!” Tycho says, but he quickly catches himself and straightens. “Your Highness.” His eyes flick to the doorway, and I don’t know if he’s seeing Nolla Verin or Captain Solt, but his face pales a shade. “I—I—drills were canceled—be-because—”

“I know,” I say. “I’m here to speak with Harper.” I glance at the door. “See if you can find Iisak. He should be made aware of what’s happened.” I feel pretty certain that Iisak has picked up on some of it, if not all of it, but Tycho needs a task.

“Yes,” says Tycho. He nods. “Right away.” He slips through the door.

Noah ties off the bandage. “You could’ve given us another fifteen minutes,” he says dryly. “It’s been a while since I could talk to someone who knows what a stethoscope is.”

“We’ll still have time.” Harper looks at me and then her gaze flicks to the heavily armed people at my back. Her expression evens out. “Or hold on. Maybe I’m about to be executed.”

One of the most admirable things about Harper is that she faces every challenge without fear, even when she has absolutely no reason to believe she’ll come out of a confrontation alive. Lia Mara was surprised Harper was able to convince a scout to find the queen, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if Harper had walked to Syhl Shallow on bare feet to knock on the front door of the palace herself.

“You are not going to be executed.” I gesture to the cot Tycho just abandoned. “May I?”

“Sure.” Harper glances behind me at Solt and Nolla Verin, both of whom are likely glaring at her. A light sparks in her eyes as her gaze returns to mine. “Your Highness.”

I can’t tell if she’s teasing me or mocking me, but I ignore it. I ease onto the cot, and then, just for a moment, I’m struck by a memory: sitting with Harper just like this, in the infirmary at Ironrose. Then, I was the injured one. My chest was tight with bandages, and Emberfall was under threat of invasion from Syhl Shallow.

Much like right now. Only this time, we’re on opposing sides.

The spark in her eye has clouded over, and I know she is remembering the same thing.

She blinks then, glancing away, and I suspect she is chasing off tears, but her voice is even. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Likewise,” I say.

She gives a humorless laugh. “I’m sure that’s true.” She glances at Nolla Verin and Solt again. “Who are your henchmen?”

Solt takes a step forward, and his tone is vicious. “You are speaking of the sister to the queen—”

“Captain,” I snap.

Harper’s eyes narrow, and she looks at Nolla Verin. “Oh right. I remember you. You were trying to hook up with Rhen.”

Nolla Verin doesn’t move. “I am glad I did not,” she scoffs, “if the prince and his people were so easily overcome by this enchantress, our forces will surely—”

Harper drops the shawl and surges to her feet, her hand going to the dagger on her thigh. Nolla Verin draws a blade.

“Enough.” I stand and put a hand up between the two of them. Harper is unsteady on her feet, but she looks ready to take on Nolla Verin barehanded if she has to.

“Please don’t destroy my infirmary,” calls Noah, and both girls go still. He must have gone into the hallway to stand with Jake.

I look at Harper. She’s so pale, her eyes shadowed and weary. “You should sit,” I say.

Her eyes flick between Solt and Nolla Verin. “I don’t think so.”

“Jake says you were not fleeing Emberfall,” I say to her. “That you came here for my help.”

“Yes,” she says tightly. “I did.”

“You had to know you would not find the man who was once sworn to the Royal Guard.” I pause. “You had to know you would not find Commander Grey.”

That gets her attention. She blinks. Falters. “I did,” she whispers. “I did know.” But she stares back at me as if that is who she sought, someone who would give her a nod, call her my lady, and ask to be pointed at the nearest threat.

“Sit, Harper.”

She doesn’t sit, and she flinches at my use of her given name.

That small flinch tugs at something inside of me.

“I came here because you were my friend,” she says quietly. “Are you still?”

That tugs harder.

It must flicker in my expression, because her eyes soften and she takes a step toward me. “Grey. Please. I came here because Rhen was your friend, because—”

“He was not my friend,” I snap, and she stumbles back, her eyes flaring wide. My anger surprises even me, as if it waited all this time to surface. “I understand why he did what he did, Harper. But he was not my friend.”

“So—what? You’re just going to leave him there with her?”

“We are at war!”

“A war you declared.”

“I cannot save the life of a man readying forces against me,” I say. “You could not possibly think that—”

“He was going to call for a truce.”

I stop short. “What?”

“He was going to call for a truce.” New tears gleam in her eyes. “Or peace, or an alliance, or whatever. He wasn’t going to fight.”

“Lies,” snaps Solt.

“It’s not a lie!” Harper snaps back.

He swears in Syssalah. “Your prince has sent regiments to the border.”

Harper glares at me. “So has yours.”

“I’m not their prince,” I say. She inhales like she’s ready to breathe fire, so I sharpen my tone. “Harper. Sit.” I point at the cot. “Now.”

She clamps her mouth shut—but she sits. Her eyes have turned cold and hard. When she first saw me in the guard station, her eyes were full of relief and desperation, but now she looks at me like an adversary.

I don’t know if I can undo that. I don’t know if I should want to undo that.

She glances behind me again. “If you’re not going to help me, then just let me go, or throw me into a dungeon, or—”

“Gladly,” says Nolla Verin.

I sigh and ease onto the opposite cot. “Tell me what happened.”

“I’m not doing this like an interrogation. Tell them to go away.”

“You do not issue orders here,” says Solt. “You are a prisoner.”

“Then lock me up.” She holds out her arms, and in a way that only Harper can accomplish, she is both openly defiant and defeated. “I’m done.”

“We will allow you the privacy you request,” says Lia Mara from the doorway, and I turn, surprised.

“Nolla Verin,” she continues. “Captain Solt. You will retreat to the hallway.” They do, but Lia Mara stays in the doorway. “Princess,” she says in a way that is not mocking, but implies she knows everything about Harper’s farcical Disi. “I will remind you that I approached your prince with hopes of a peaceful alliance, and he took me prisoner and killed my guard.”

Harper stares back at her. “I didn’t do those things.”

“I know.” Lia Mara pauses. “I also know you helped Grey escape, undoubtedly at great risk to yourself.” Her voice softens, just a touch. “I know he sought out your assistance once before, when he was in great peril.”

Harper swallows. “I did that because he’s my friend.” She glances at me. “Was my friend.”

“I do not think so,” says Lia Mara, and Harper frowns, but she continues. “You may have been friends, but I believe you would have done these things for anyone who asked. I believe you are kind and merciful—and that is why you had no hesitation in riding into a country that has declared war on Emberfall, with the sole intent of finding help for a prince who has caused so much harm.”

“Kind and merciful.” Harper glances at me again, then frowns. “Grey once said that kindness and mercy find a limit, and then they turn into weakness and fear.”

“Truly?” Lia Mara eases into the room, capturing my gaze with her own. “Do you believe that?”

I look back at her. “Not anymore.”

The smallest hint of a smile finds her lips, and her cheeks turn the faintest shade of pink. “I will leave you to have a conversation in peace. I know you have much to discuss.” Her sister begins to protest, and Lia Mara adds, “If Captain Solt and Nolla Verin cannot keep their silence, I will find a task to keep them busy.” She slips through the door, taking them with her, leaving us in silence.

Harper is staring at me. Her eyes are wary and uncertain. After a moment, she swallows and looks away. “I shouldn’t have come here. This was a mistake.” Her voice breaks, and she pauses to steady it. “I know it’s war. I know you hate him. I just—I didn’t know where else to go.”

We sit in silence for the longest time. This moment reminds me of another, when she was weary and frightened and in a strange land—and she didn’t know whether to trust me then, either. I rise from the cot to root around on Noah’s workbench until I find a battered deck of cards, then return to sit opposite Harper. I drag a small table between us, then shuffle.

“Like old times,” she says, and her voice breaks again.

“Like old times,” I agree. The cards flip together, and I deal. Harper takes up her hand.

“King’s Ransom?” she says.

“Yes.” I turn a card faceup. The three of stones. I choose an eight of stones from my hand and lay it down. “I rarely play cards anymore.”

“No?”

“They play dice here.”

“How do you play dice?” Maybe the game is steadying, because the emotion has drained from her voice, and now she simply sounds tired.

“I’m not one to ask. I am terrible at it.”

That startles a laugh out of her. “I doubt it. You’re not terrible at anything.”

“I promise I am.”

She lays down a card. We play in silence for a while, the low fire crackling along the wall. I didn’t forget how much I enjoyed playing cards, but I didn’t realize it would summon so many memories. Not just with Harper, but with Rhen as well. In the beginning, when the curse first trapped us alone, I would let him win every game. He quickly caught on, and he was furious. He declared that he didn’t need someone to cater to his pride—and when it came to cards, that was probably true. He asked if I also let him win when we sparred in the arena—and he was surprised when I conceded the truth, that no swordsman would truly risk a member of the royal family.

He drew a sword right there. “Fight me,” he said. “No yielding, Commander. That is an order.”

So I did. I disarmed him in less than a minute. I still remember him breathing heavily, staring up at me, a stripe of blood on his forearm.

I remember being startled when, instead of throwing a tantrum, he got to his feet, jerked his jacket straight, and said, “Show me how you just did that.”

One of the most startling things about the curse had nothing to do with the magic, or the torments, or even Lilith herself. It was the discovery that Rhen never realized how ignorant and sheltered he was—and how much he wanted to learn once he had the opportunity.

I lay down a card on the table. “I do not hate him,” I say quietly.

Harper hesitates, then sets down her cards to press her fingers into her eyes. “He regrets so much, Grey. What he did—it’s tearing him apart. I swear I’m telling the truth. He really was going to come to you with a truce.”

“I believe you.” My voice is grave. “I am unsure if that matters.”

“Why?” she cries. “Why wouldn’t that matter?”

I inhale to answer, and she says, “You once told me that if Rhen allowed it, you would take Lilith’s torments a hundredfold. Now is your chance. Now, Grey. She is killing him. She is—” Her voice chokes on a sob. “She’s so awful. He’s terrified of magic. You know what she’s like. You know what she’ll do.”

I do. I do know.

This is too much. There are too many memories. My chest is tight, my thoughts filling with ice, the way I feel when I must take action.

“She killed Dustan,” Harper says. “She tore his throat out right in front of me. And Zo—somehow Lilith grew wings or created another monster, because she ripped Zo right off the back of my horse.” Harper presses her arms across her abdomen. “Please, Grey. Please. Take Emberfall if you want. But please, you have to help me save him. There is no one else. No other way.”

I look away. Her tears, her words, are tugging at chords inside me again. I shouldn’t care. We’re going to war. If Rhen dies at Lilith’s hand or at my own, what is the difference?

“Please,” Harper whispers. “Grey. He might not be your friend, but he’s your brother. You spent forever together. That has to mean something. You have to feel something.”

“I do,” I say, and my voice is rough.

She stares at me. “Then you’ll help?”

I inhale—but I’m not sure what my answer will be.

It doesn’t matter anyway, because Harper’s eyes flick beyond me, and she screams.

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