Father reaches the wagon. I swing my sword, straining to help him. But the guards are many, and I don’t see the one with the spear aimed at my back. Father does. He doubles back, leaping in front of me. And spares my heart… With his. I drop my sword, trying to catch him in my arms. We fall together, the torment he feels reflecting in his dulling eyes. No… No… No! “Become the queen,” he says. His words waver, each one barely above a whisper. “Arrow needs you.”
