32. Mare #2
"I don't know. It happens with Ferris, too."
A crow with a missing talon cut through the shadows above our heads. Diar's eyes rose with mine, though she focused on the beautiful white heron that soared behind it.
"He's back," she muttered, releasing my wrist.
We left the tranquil world behind. Fire and blood and snow replaced the calm.
I gasped, shuddering and shaking, reaching for Diar's retreating hand, wanting nothing more than to return to our quiet world.
The crow had always heralded danger. Today was no different.
A group of shatterblades departed the gates and approached us. They walked in perfect step with one another, disciplined and composed. General Yuudai strode at their head, bloodstained sword leveled at his side.
Blood trailed from his forehead, down the side of his face, and more blotted the arm of his black leather armor.
Diar stood, and for the first time, I noticed the weapon she clutched: Twin daggers, forged from pure frost.
Siotha.
I rose to my feet, though my body protested every motion. With but a small gesture from the general, the shatterblades drew their swords and fanned out, surrounding us.
My hand tightened on Cierthine.
Reese was going to kill me, wasn't he?
If I survived this.
"Never," Yuudai breathed. "Never have you shamed me like this. You were never a daughter I could be proud of, but this?"
"Siotha is mine," Diar said, tone even and calm. "And I'm part of the reason the siege stopped before our city was destroyed."
"Were you? You were not at the walls, with your people." Yuudai's jaw tensed as he turned to me. "You. Why does Lavaire's Paragon hover at your side?"
"King Ailithir ordered it," I said. My voice emerged as a scratchy croak. "For him to train me."
"And protect you?" Yuudai guessed. "Ailithir is a fool who clings to the ways of old, though he pretends not to. Perhaps I should do your nation a service and free Cierthine from your grasp. How many lords want your head, I wonder?"
The shatterblade behind me laid his sword across my shoulder. Steel brushed my neck.
My breath stopped. Would they kill me here, just like that?
"But I will not kill my kin," Yuudai said. "Paragon weapons can be refused. You will relinquish it."
Diar gripped her blades tighter. "I will not."
"You will, by the time I am done with you," he said in a low tone. His turquoise eyes flicked to me. "Kill her. She died in battle. Perhaps that will prove to them that women should not outstep their bounds."
I gripped Cierthine's hilt. A sinking realization stayed my hand.
Should I fight back and kill these men, there would be no future in which anyone believed me innocent—a victim.
The world would see me as a crazed woman who lashed out at her betters, who disobeyed and attacked—an unworthy fraud who deserved her fate.
The minstrels would sing of my farcical story, a warning tale for generations of girls to come.
I closed my eyes. The blade at my neck moved.
"Tell me, Yuudai," Reese's voice shattered the silence. "Have your vaunted Shatterblades stooped to murdering injured women in the streets?"
The steel at my neck vanished. I opened my eyes to see the Shatterblade lowering his sword.
Yuudai's hands curled into fists. He slowly turned to face the Paragon marching down the street.
Fire blazed in Reese's eyes—though it did not match the burning fury I'd seen a few hours ago, in the glade. He retained control of himself. Control he'd lost in the glade, becoming something more feral, something I still did not understand.
"Lord Paragon," Yuudai began.
"Get the fuck away from her," Reese seethed, shoving past the general to stand by me. "Or you and your men will join these corpses."
Yuudai glared at him. "Are you threatening me?"
"Yes.” Reese leaned closer, hand tightening around his rapier. "Which of us is the Solheart? I'll tell everyone you died valiantly in battle. No one will believe it, but what will they do?"
Nothing. Those with power were untouchable. Lords could do whatever they wished to their lessers. Solhearts' orders were final in our kingdoms, no matter what they decided, no matter what they did.
Nobody would punish them.
Yuudai knew that, too. He stepped back. "Would you demand my daughter's life as well? Would you claim I have no charge over her?"
Reese glanced at Diar, seeking her answer. Waiting for her to ask him to save her.
She shook her head. "You already have a charge, Paragon Tiernan. I will handle my own fate."
I turned to her, worried her father was lying. Worried he'd kill her the moment we turned our backs.
"You only need to say the word," Reese said.
"I know," Diar said. "Your offer is appreciated. But I must decline."
Reese's eyebrows drew together, but he nodded. "If you refuse your own Paragon, Yuudai, that is your business." He laid a hand on my back, pulling me to his side. "But you will not touch Aenir's."
"As you wish.” Yuudai added the next words with the barest trace of disrespect, "Lord Paragon." He nodded at his shatterblades, and they moved as one.
Diar did not look back at us as they led her away. Her father did—he gave me a long, hard glare.
But I could not discern the emotions hidden within.
Reese visibly relaxed once they'd departed through the gates. His hand slid down my back. "Thus far, you haven't been disobedient. I was surprised when I saw you climbing through the wall."
"I am . . . " I said, voice hollow and dry. "A perfectly respectable lady. But sometimes . . . "
My lips quivered. My knees gave out. They hit the road sharply, fresh pain ringing through my bones.
It had been years since I cried. When Liam came into our little family, I'd sworn off tears. I'd held them back for my little brother, the frightened child so often troubled by nightmares, for the father who looked at me like the last treasure he possessed.
For the world that saw a poor girl who'd lost her claim to wealth and titles. A thing to be pitied.
Tears erupted from me in great, ugly bouts. They poured down my face. I sniffled and choked on mucus. It was the worst, most pathetic I'd ever looked—a display to match the truth inside.
Reese knelt in front of me and wrapped his arms around me, oh so gently. He pulled me to his chest, enveloping me in warmth. Tucking my head under his chin, he pressed a hand to the back of my head and held me tightly.
"I know," he breathed, voice full of sorrow.
I felt the depth of pain in his words. He'd been a Paragon for years. How much death and loss had he seen?
How much would I, given time?
This aching agony would follow me through it all. Through the night. Into tomorrow. Even on the triumphant day I fulfilled my lifelong wish and breached the storms concealing Tirnanog.
Only to find my people's bones.