Chapter 17
“Igot your note,” Isolde says, slipping through my bedroom door.
I shift on the couch, my eyes aching as I stare into the flames licking the ceiling of the hearth. Curling over myself, I rest my elbows on my knees, fighting the sting in the back of my throat.
She crosses the room and sinks to her knees in front of me, pushing my hair out of my face. “It’s the middle of the night. What’s the matter?”
Embers dance through the log, eating it from the inside out. I lean into Isolde’s touch as she cups my face.
It’s rare that we send word for each other. It’s too risky, considering any correspondence could be intercepted by Caelus or one of his advisors. We usually take advantage of his absences—wait until he visits the warfront or neighboring territories.
But I need her now.
“I’m scared,” I whisper, finally letting my gaze stray from the fireplace. I print her featherlight touch onto my cheek and breathe in the warmth of her scent, letting my fingers trail over her curls.
It could be the last time.
Her brow furrows. “Of what?”
The kraken. My glamour failing. Losing her.
I chew on my lip. If she knew what was in store for me tomorrow, she’d stop me. If she knew my life was on the line, she’d pull me from the competition. Anything to keep me safe.
“Of Kressa.” A half-truth, given the target the bounty hunter has painted on my back. “I’ve always done what Caelus asked and built trust with whoever he wanted. But this feels different, more dangerous, more at stake.”
“Briar.” Isolde’s eyes soften, and she swallows. She chews on her words, her fingers tracing irregular circles over my cheeks until she finally whispers, “Let’s leave.”
“And go where?”
“Far from here. Let’s run away.”
I pull back, far enough for her hands to fall to my lap. “What are you talking about?”
“I never wanted to give Caelus my power.” Her hands curl into fists, nails catching on the fabric of my pants. “But my court was weak, on the brink of failure, and I had no family or heirs to support me. There were people starving on the streets, Briar. We were nearing an uprising. A civil war.”
My chest tightens. If that were my court and my people, I would have done anything to save them, too.
“I was desperate,” she continues. “And he promised if I surrendered my power he would share his resources. His wealth would help me feed the poorest of my people, restart the infrastructure, and boost the economy.” Her eyes hold mine, a fury brewing in their icy depths as she snarls, “He lied.”
“We can’t just run,” I whisper. “He’d find us. I’d be executed, and you’d be exactly where you are now, unless he decides to let you live from behind bars. Your people need you. I need you.”
She lifts herself onto the cushion beside me and clasps my hands in hers, stroking a thumb over my palm.
“It’s not just running. While Caelus has been busy coming and going from the warfront, I’ve been taking advantage of his absence.
” She sucks in a cheek, as if she’s testing her words—testing my loyalty.
“I’ve been recruiting forces to fight him. ”
My eyes widen.
“I know.” She nods, staring into the fireplace.
“My forces are weak, and they wouldn’t stand a chance at this moment.
But they’re close, and I’ve caught wind of Callum planning to overthrow him.
Caelus will never see me coming.” Her gaze meets mine, and she squeezes my hands. “We could leave tonight.”
“Isolde,” I breathe, my voice swallowed by the crackling flames. So the rumors are true about Caelus’s brother. In light of everything else—Kressa, The Gales, Isolde building an army—that seems irrelevant.
“I’m ready to fight, Briar.” She presses her forehead to mine and pulls in a breath. “Will you fight with me?”
A weight settles on my chest, my breathing ragged. Everything in me screams to say yes, to take her hand and not look back. With or without my power, we could stand a chance.
But.
“I can’t.” I look away, unable to bear the hurt on her face.
If I left, I’d forfeit The Gales. It doesn’t matter how ready I am to fight, I’d die the moment I didn’t show up for the first trial.
“Why?” She swallows. “I thought we both wanted freedom. A chance to be together, really together.”
“I do.” My voice wavers. “But I can’t have it yet. Not until I get Caelus what he wants.”
She throws her hands up. “Fuck what Caelus wants. I’m sick of catering to him. What about what we want?”
I blink back tears, and an ache spreads through my chest. This isn’t how I wanted tonight to go. I don’t want my last memories of her to be the hurt painted across her face, and I don’t want her to remember me as a coward. But it seems I have no other choice.
“You are what I want.” I lean closer and cup her jaw with my hands. “And I want to fight alongside you, but I can’t right now.”
“Because you’re scared?”
I nod. “Terrified.”
I go to lace our fingers together, but she pulls hers back, away from my reach. “If I’ve learned anything, Briar, it’s that sometimes you have to do it scared.”
Inside the fireplace, a log splits. My attention is trained on the side of her face and the gentle curve of her lips. For years, I’ve entirely misjudged her. I assumed she surrendered her power in attempt to destroy the other courts. Or in a moment of selfish weakness.
But she did it to save her own. She did it scared.
She stands, but I wrap my hand around her wrist and pull her back to the couch. “Give me three weeks. Three weeks to get everything sorted out, and I’ll fight with you to the very end.”
A moment passes, and I hold my breath, my heart pounding. She scans me, her gaze trailing over every mark, searching for a truth in my words.
“Three weeks,” she says, nodding. “That’ll give me enough time to get everything sorted, too. My forces will be ready, waiting for my signal.”
“Thank you.”
She weaves her fingers through my hair and tilts my head to the side, peppering a string of kisses up my throat.
I’m not promised three weeks. I’m not even sure I’ll walk out of the trial tomorrow afternoon. But I know one thing—I won’t leave Isolde’s side.
For her, I’ll do it scared.