34 Theodore
Theodore
The race up the cliffs was a blur of bitter wind and ice-laden rock.
I ground my teeth as I pushed my horse harder up a narrow road that bypassed the winding streets of the town.
It was a straight ride and I outpaced Halla as I went.
She was a fair rider, nimble and connected to her mare, who obeyed her readily, but my mount felt my desolate need in a primal way.
My emotion was so base, so complete, that even an animal knew it.
In a cloud of white steam, we arrived at the castle keep’s front doors. Sweat poured over my brow as I rammed my shoulder into them. They didn’t budge. I tried again. Behind me, gravel sprayed as Halla and her mare came to a hard stop in the yard.
Her eyes were round and pale, twin moons glowing in the torchlight. She dismounted in a flash, hair flying, and took her black fur cloak and robes into her fists. As if to outrun me, she raced around the side of the castle keep, around the curve of the turret, and into a wall of black shadow.
I gripped my dagger and followed her into the dark. I heard the heavy clink of metal. The wail of poorly kept hinges. Her fast breaths and grunts.
Then a sudden spill of light sliced that night and set her into silhouette.
She’d opened a door. One that led to a long lamp-lit corridor.
She raced in, but I was faster than her on foot too.
In a few long strides, I gripped the back of her cloak in my fist. Her shriek echoed as I pulled her down.
She flailed, and cried, letting her limbs go limp, before I lifted her fully off the ground and pushed her against the wall between two sputtering lamps.
She still had the jewels in her hair from the wedding feast. The feast she’d begged for, the visit home that she’d given everything up for. I went breathless from the revelation. “You planned all of this.”
“Let me go,” she fumed through her clenched teeth.
“Halla.” My dagger was at her chin. “How did you—”
Her lips pulled back in a snarl. “There is no one you can trust, do you understand? Never. You are a fool to have not learned this lesson by now. My mother and Aleka are old diplomatic friends—all of this started long, long ago.”
I pushed my blade up and her chin rose. “Where is she?”
Defiance widened her eyes. “You swore to make me your wife. You gave your word—”
“And I would break my word again and again if it kept Imogen safe.”
Her lips parted in an angry smile. “You see? You are no better than the rest of us. You’ve lied from the first. From that first letter you sent to my mother.”
“No.” My words were ground low with anger. “I meant every word I wrote in that letter. I’d intended to take you as my true wife. I’d meant for you to be a Leucosian queen—”
She winced as if in pain. “But that bitch—”
“You ruined it, Halla. You and your Godsdamned mother, and Aleka who put all of this into motion long ago. Even if I’d never met Imogen, if I’d never fallen in love with her, your intention to use me—to gift our child to your fucking pet monster—would have been enough to destroy whatever trust or care that might have grown between us. ”
She seemed stunned that I knew her plan so intimately. A silver line of tears filled her wide eyes, and she spoke in a high, broken voice. “So… I have failed, then.”
I searched her. “Failed at what? What did you want?”
“To matter.” She nearly screamed it. “Mother kept me from Eusia. Always. All my life, I was never allowed to ask for a miracle in person, never allowed to make a pilgrimage to Anthemoessa to meet her myself. Had I been born with Gods’ blood in my veins I could have been bound to Eusia.
At least Aleka believes I deserve to meet her.
” Dark yearning filled her eyes. She pulled a breath into her chest. “But I have nothing to offer my mother or my people or my saint as I am. I have no way of making myself valuable or useful.”
I reared back, stunned by how effectively Nivala had done to Halla what Nemea had done to Imogen: twisted her mind and made her feel small. Made her see herself as powerless so that they might cling to their own power, uncontested.
“Your mother and Eusia are despicable and pitiless and cruel,” I said.
“They have made you believe that your value rests solely on what you can provide them. They’ve constrained you for the entirety of your life.
But you must understand: if you did not have some power, if you did not have the capacity to be a threat, they would not have worked so hard to keep you weak.
Prove them wrong,” I begged. “Take me to Imogen.”
She was still for a long moment. Then her face creased with what looked like pain and turmoil, as if two opposing weights pulled at her, threatening to rip her in two. My stomach sank as I watched and realized that I could not decipher which side would win out.
I was about to leave her there and bolt down the corridor to search for Imogen myself, when a terrible, far-off cry bounded off the stones. A cry of horrific, time-altering pain.
Imogen.
Without thinking I began running toward the echo, but she sounded so far away, so buried by the walls of this expansive monstrosity of a keep, that my hope plummeted.
The corridor was straight and seemed to stretch on and on, dotted with old wooden doors. As I ran, I gave myself a single moment to look behind me to see if Halla followed.
But she was nowhere to be found.