28. Diar
Diar
Ileaned against the window, enjoying a privilege I never thought I'd have: watching two Paragons train.
Exhausted and spent, Lady Rohan fell to her knees. Reese offered her a hand and guided her back inside.
Ferris joined me by the window. He leaned against the wall, ankles crossed. "You know your way around a blade, unlike Mare. Who trained you?"
My grip around my blade tightened. "My brother did."
"In secret, I imagine?"
"Not really," I said, stepping away from the window. "Father spent most of our childhood away, and Mother never paid much attention to us."
"Ah, absent mothers. I have mine to thank for half the times I've gotten away with . . . well, that's besides the point."
He smiled and chuckled. I didn't understand. My mother's indifference had wounded me as a child. These days, I'd quit seeking her love.
Ferris folded his arms. "Why did he bother, though? He knew you'd never be allowed to fight."
"It was for fun, at first. Then, for days like this. The women in Galasvar died, too. Akemi wanted me to have a fighting chance." I ran a hand along the creaky bedpost.
How was I supposed to sleep, knowing Father would be calling for my blood, and death approached from the south?
"Don't think you'll be able to sleep?" Ferris voiced my thoughts. "I'd sing you a lullaby if only I had my lute."
"You can play music?"
"Don't sound so surprised."
I chuckled. "Father says royals are pampered whelps with little talent. I figured you'd just hire someone to play music for you."
Ferris started to protest, then shrugged. "Your Father isn't far off the mark. You'd be appalled to learn how many servants the average Solheart house employs. I'd hesitate to call myself spoiled, though." His emerald eyes followed me to the door. "Reese told you to stay put, remember?"
"I need to pace, or something."
"Well, far be it from me to discourage disobedience.” Ferris pulled the door open for me with a smirk.
We padded down the dark, frigid hall. The cold intensified when we stepped outside onto the snow-packed street. Ice floated on the wind and sank deep into my lungs with every breath.
It felt amazing.
Ferris wrapped his cloak around himself. "You're enjoying this wretched weather. Iceborns are insane."
"No, you Stormborns are."
"Both can be true." He stepped closer. "Can I see your hand?"
"You're asking this time?" I raised an eyebrow.
"What is that supposed to mean? You grabbed me, if you recall."
"You assaulted me."
"Assaulted?" Ferris spun to face me with indignation. "I misread the moment, that's all. Or, more likely, you were simply restraining yourself because you know our love would be forbidden."
"Why would it be forbidden?"
He stared at me in disbelief. "Because we're different races?"
Oh. I thought so little outside my home city, I'd forgotten the greater laws of the Empire.
"You think too highly of yourself," I said, folding my arms. "I have greater aspirations than roguish skirt-chasers."
"Heh.” Ferris looked away.
I thought I saw something in his expression—a smile, flickering and fading.
Maybe he didn't think highly of himself at all.
"Anyways.” Ferris extended his hand. "May I?"
Curiosity gnawed at my insides. Many people had touched me, skin to skin. My parents, my brother. Servants. A brush of the hands when passing someone a drink. Ishida and other lords who had visited our manor.
No one's touch had ever flung me into another world before. I wanted to see it again. To spend long enough wandering down the stretch of calm waters to see where it led.
And why.
A flash of white distracted me. Long wings soared over my head, and a heron landed on the road.
I knew this bird. Its wings had an odd blue patterning, like frost clinging to the silver grass outside the city.
It looked even more out of place here than it had in Kentoro.
Ferris' head snapped up, staring at the roof sill across the street. "Shit. He never heralds anything good."
"Who?" I asked. "The bird?"
Ferris' eyes widened. "You can see it?"
Before I could respond, a horn sounded somewhere to our south.
That was our horn.
I turned to sprint, but Ferris caught my arm and pulled me back. "Wait!" He glanced at the inn door. "Reese will be out here in a moment, and if I run off again, he'll skewer me."
I ceased struggling against his grip. Sprinting headlong toward a war horn with a Paragon in tow was a better idea than going alone.
The inn door flew open, and Reese dashed out, swinging a black cloak around his shoulders. "Ferris!" He called in surprise. "I can't believe you're still here."
"I live to surprise people," Ferris said, releasing me.
"I wish you didn't." Reese sighed, glancing back. Lady Rohan staggered through the door, trying to rake her hair into a braid. "You three, stay behind me."
The white-haired Paragon fell into step with me as we hurried down the street. She shivered violently. "Are the men from Minsawa here?"
"Or the monsters following them," Ferris said.
I glanced at Lady Rohan's flushed cheeks and repressed the urge to touch her. She had no other skin showing, and reaching out to caress her face might come across poorly.
Now wasn't the time. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of my endless impulses.
Countless bodies congested the square ahead. People leaned out of their windows and doors, trying to get a better look at what was going on.
Two lovers, sculpted from ice in an eternal dance, watched over the group of bloodied men pouring through the gates.
Soldiers, armor rent and torn by claw marks, flew past me, dragging frightened mounts behind them. Some men arrived in stretchers, wrapped in bloody gauze.
A familiar face stood beneath the dancer's statue: Lord Ishida. His dark, slick-backed hair framed his narrow face, and he wore his captain's uniform: deep blue Shatterblade robes with edges embroidered in silver.
He was locked in conversation with what must have been Minsawa's commanding officers; both wore similar uniforms, though one's helmet was severely dented and the other's was gone.
A fresh scar traced up his face.
Reese held up a hand for us to stay back and approached them. Only Lady Rohan tried to obey him. When Ferris and I followed Reese, she reluctantly jogged after us.
Grabbing Ferris' arm, I dragged him in front of me.
"What?" He whispered.
"I'm using you as a shield." I nodded toward Ishida.
"Is that your father?"
"No. Fiancé."
"Oh.” Ferris stepped in front of me protectively. "I've got you."
My shield did his job nicely. Lord Ishida turned toward us, but only saw three—a Solheart and two Stormborns. "Paragon Tiernan.” He pressed a hand to his chest and bowed.
"How many of you are there?" Reese demanded.
The scarred Minsawa commander answered. "Only a quarter of the garrison. Our scouts say we're being followed—but they have yet to attack."
"They are toying with us," the helmet-clad officer said. "With an intelligence they have never shown before."
Reese turned to Ishida. "Deploy your men to the walls. We could be attacked at any moment."
Ishida nodded and turned to leave, but the scarred commander called out. "We were told Paragon Ishii would be reinforcing us—is he here?"
My fiancé hesitated to answer. A booming, gravely voice answered in his stead.
Father.
"Ishii is dead." General Yuudai marched from the north, Shatterblades in tow.
That slimy Solheart, Quinn, walked in his shadow.
"Paragon Tiernan," Yuudai said. "I had not received word you had arrived."
"Apologies. I was delayed." Reese glared at Quinn, but said nothing further.
The Solheart wore a faint smile.
"Your presence is most welcome." Yuudai's stern glare slid from Reese onto Lady Rohan. "Tell me. Why does this woman carry Cierthine?"
"Paragon Killian fell in battle at Galasvar," Reese said, shifting a step in front of Lady Rohan. "This is his heir."
Ishida laughed. "You jest, surely."
I could not read faces well, but even I saw the hope draining from the men's eyes.
When Reese answered with a severe glare and silence, the scarred commander swallowed. "If Paragon Ishii has passed, then—”
"Then," Yuudai finished. “We must pass Siotha on with all haste. Any Shatterblades in your company must report to the captain's estate, where—”
Quinn stepped forward, interrupting. "Doing so would only waste everyone's time. Siotha has already chosen its new master.”
I breathed in sharply. What was he doing?
Yuudai whirled to face him, face ticking with annoyance. "All the better." He forced composure into his voice. Father wouldn't dare affront a Solheart lord. "Who is it?"
Quinn nodded at Ferris. "Your daughter."
Father glared at Ferris. The prince stepped away from me.
Lord Ishida gasped. "Diar! What are you doing out here?"
I looked between the men and found no words. They never came to me in Father's presence.
Yuudai turned back to Quinn with barely concealed rage. "With all due respect—”
"Paragon Tiernan here knows one when he sees one.” Quinn gestured to his old friend. "You can settle this matter quickly."
Reese returned to my side. His movements and expression didn't betray a hint of anger. "Paragon weapons answer their master's call. Summon Siotha. If she is yours, she will come."
I'd seen Ishii do as much, years ago—a flick of the wrist, an unconscious movement. Siotha would appear in a flurry of ice so quick you wondered if the Paragon had held it the whole time.
The notion still seemed ridiculous, a farce on Quinn's part, but . . .
My hand had ached to hold Siotha. To see it again.
Extending my arm, I pictured the bow of ice. A single question swirled around it, wailing.
Why would it pick me?
It had always picked Shatterblades. Those devoted to our country. Those who would lay down their lives to save it.
Me? I wanted to lay my brother's soul to rest, but after that . . .
After that . . .
My fingers twitched. There was no after that. I lived for one purpose, and I did not expect to survive it.
Frigid air tore through the square. A snap of pale blue flashed before us, and my fingers curled around the bend of a bow, cool and comforting.
Siotha rested in my grip, its bowstring nearly invisible in the night.
"Saint's breath," Ferris cursed.
Father said something. I didn't hear it.
All I could see was my brother and the brilliant grin he'd be wearing. To see his little sister holding the Paragon's bow, the one he'd pined after as a child.
There would be such jealousy in his eyes, a childish whine in his voice that broke the soldier's demeanor.
As commotion erupted around me, I recalled Ferris' question. Why had Akemi bothered training me when it was forbidden? When I'd never hold a blade.
I'd asked him as much the year he'd died.
We'd been fishing at the lake just south of Tsuyan. Pale blue flowers had sprouted from silver buds, wherever we looked. I'd reeled a line in and blurted the question out.
'Why do you bother training me?'
'Why?' He'd repeated. 'Say Tsuyan was attacked tomorrow. Would you fight at my side?'
'Obviously.'
Akemi had smiled. 'That's why. Father always tells me never to waste potential. He just doesn't follow his own advice.'
I looked up, finding my voice. It silenced the men around me.
"An attack we cannot win by conventional means is coming. Get your men to safety—there are three Paragons here. We will handle it."
Fury erupted on Father's face—an expression I knew all too well.
But Quinn grinned.
"As you say.” He bowed his head. "Paragon Diar.”
Reese's eyes lit up. "Kill the scádes before they arrive, and we spare the walls."
"That's the idea," I said.
"Then let's be off. There's no time to waste."
"No!" Father erupted, shoving past Lord Ishida to reach me. "No, I will not have this farce disgrace the honor of the dead."
Reese reached out, but Father swatted the Solheart's arm away and pushed Ferris aside. He grabbed my wrist and twisted it, forcing the bow from my hands.
It clattered to the ground.
My resolve wavered. It always did around him.
"War is a trial for men to face," he hissed. "And if you are so lucky, you will live through this hell to suffer the punishment you have earned."
Reese looked stunned—he'd expected General Yuudai to waver in the face of a Solheart, but he had not.
Maybe he would have hesitated, had it been any other girl. But it was me.
His eternal disappointment.
"Send the men to the walls," General Yuudai barked. "Bring Siotha back to its home—to be tested." He looked at me with a new expression. I had no idea what it was—not anger, but . . . grief? "And you will come with me."