Destroy the Day (Defy the Night)

by Brigid Kemmerer

“I haven’t done anything to my people,” I say. “The instant they found proof, you ran! You hid.” His words hit me like a fist. It’s not just the words, though; it’s the betrayal in his tone. Is this what everyone thinks?

My breathing is tight and shallow. I’ve never done this part. This has always been Corrick’s role. I don’t want to be a part of it. It doesn’t feel brave. It doesn’t feel cowardly either. It feels horrific.

He didn’t deserve this. None of them did. “Forgive me,” I say, and the words are thin and barely audible. My voice breaks, and I realize I’m crying. Not just for my guards, but for Bert, for Reed, for all of them. Everyone I’ve failed. My muddy fingers press into my eyes. “Please. Forgive me.”

I’ve seen every horrific thing Corrick has ordered, but this is the first time I’ve done something myself.

I take a breath and see stars. I can’t do this twice. I can’t. As soon as I have the thought, I realize that my brother did it more than twice. He did it over and over again, for years. I remember Tessa’s rage on the night I found them both in the Wilds, when I had no idea what my brother had been doing as Weston Lark. He’s trying so hard to protect you, but you have to know it’s destroying him. I didn’t know it was like this. I watched it time and time again, but I didn’t know. I should have known.

I’ve won over the Wilds. My heart pounds. Now I just need to win over the sectors.

“All right. New plan. Rian has to have a decoy, right? We’ll just get her and take her back to the ship.”

“So we just have to rescue someone who doesn’t want to be rescued.” “Yes.”

Lochlan sighs. “I can’t believe I agreed to get on that ship. All right, Cory.” He digs in with the oars and pulls hard, and the rowboat surges forward. “Still breathing.”

The man is breathing so hard I can feel it against my chest. Then he says, “Tessa?” My heart stops. I can’t breathe. The dagger falls out of my hand and clatters to the floor. It’s impossible.

But there he is, right in front of me. Blue eyes and a smattering of freckles and those sharp features that I’d recognize no matter how many shadows cloak the room. “Oh, Corrick,” I whisper, and my breath hitches. He’s staring down at me in wonder, as if I’m the one who’s been dead all this time. My thoughts refuse to believe that he’s here, that this is real, that this is possible. “Am I dead?” I say, and my voice breaks. “No, my love.” He takes my hand, and he brings it to his face. He kisses my fingertips, then presses my palm to his cheek. “Very much alive, I promise you.”

A tear rolls down my cheek. I’m afraid to move, I’m afraid to breathe, like this is a dream. Like I’ll touch him and the illusion will shatter.

His heart is beating against mine, though, and I can still feel each breath he inhales. I finally let my fingers move, running my thumb along his lower lip. My vision goes blurry again, and my breathing shudders so hard that I can’t catch myself, but I don’t want to blink the tears away this time. “I don’t want you to disappear,” I say, and then I realize I’m crying in earnest. “I ...

And then I’m glad that he is the one who moved, because this feels real, the brush of his lips against mine, the way he kisses the tears off my cheeks, the scent of his skin, the rasp of his voice in ...

Before I can ask him anything at all, his hands find my cheeks, and his mouth lands on mine. Every emotion pours through his kiss, and this is what finally convinces me he’s real. I can feel his longing. His loss. His worry. His fear. His love. His hope. For the first time since arriving in Ostriary, I feel settled, like my world has been righted. I have Corrick back, and I can face any challenge.

A hand knocks softly on my door, and I pull out my pocket watch. It’s well after midnight. I immediately think of Quint, and my heart leaps for the briefest moment. But of course it can’t be Quint. He’s dead.

“He’s fine,” I say, and my voice is a rasp. Saeth nods, and I let the door fall closed. Then I just stare at it. It’s late and I’m tired and my brother is dead.

“I know,” he says, and his voice is so very quiet. “I should have been here,” I say, the words a desperate gasp. “I know.” “I could have helped him.” “I know.” “I tried to get back as quickly as I could.” “And you did.”

I drop into the chair in front of the hearth. It’s barely more than embers now, and I shiver. I didn’t even cry like that on Tessa, and despite everything we’ve been through, I can’t quite believe I did it to Lochlan.

You’re not Harristan. I drain the entire glass. Lochlan does the same. He fetches the bottle and pours more immediately. Then he lifts his glass. “To brothers.”

“You’re plotting against me?” It would almost be funny if it weren’t all so serious. “Should I call for Saeth, or are you just going to pull my hair again?” “No, you idiot. I’m on your side.” He pauses. “I can stay. If you need me to.”

“For Tessa, then,” I say. “And Karri.” He puts out a hand. “I suppose we’ll have to put up with each other a little longer. For their sake.” I clasp it, gripping tight. “You’re learning already.”

Tessa herself is a balm, a constant source of comfort. She wraps herself around me at night and allows me to whisper my fears. During the day, she’s by my side as well, always fearless, always unhesitating in front of the people, always kind.

“Your brother was a very good man, facing a horrible time. He had to make terrible choices. I am so sorry he’s gone.”

I allowed the illusion of the heartless executioner to form. Displaying vulnerability would be reckless. In moments like this, I wish I could go back to my nights of donning a mask as Weston Lark.

She thrusts the squealing baby at her husband, then wraps her arms around me in a hug. It’s so unexpected, but the warmth and empathy in the motion is so real. To my surprise, it doesn’t summon more emotion, but it helps settle something inside me. It lets me breathe, chasing back my tears instead of summoning more.

But then I realize I don’t need to wish for anything at all. I reach out and take Tessa’s hand. “No,” I say to Thorin. I look down at Tessa, then brush a kiss along her knuckles. “It’s a beautiful morning,” I say to her. “Would you care to go for a walk?”

A more potent rumor is that their new king was once an outlaw who secretly helped the people because he was powerless to stop the corruption in the palace. This one seems to stick and grow. They love the mystery of it. He’s confronted with it all the time.

“I meant I could ask you to marry me.” My hand freezes against his cheek. “It would be different now,” he says in a bit of a rush. “There will be demands, expectations, risks. It’s not like when I was simply Prince Corrick—” “Oh yes, when you were simply Prince Corrick. Truly the simplest time of my life.”

“This is quite the proposal,” I say roughly. “It’s not a proposal yet,” he says quietly. “I didn’t want you to feel obligated to say yes. I wanted to make sure you knew you could say no. That no part of me expected you to uphold these—” “I love you,” I say. “Of course I’m going to say yes.”

“Corrick.” I step into him and press a soft kiss to his lips. “There could be a dozen crossbows pointed at me, and I’m not going to say no.” “Let’s try to avoid that part, shall we?” He kisses me back, pulling me tightly against him. In moments like this, I can forget everything else for a breath of time, and we can just be Corrick and Tessa, together against the night, the way we always were.

Do it because you want to. Do it whenever you’re ready.” Emotion flickers in his eyes, just for a moment before he blinks it away. “And when you have a ring,” I say lightly, trying to take some of the intensity out of the moment. “Not when you’re warning me about threats against the Crown.” He presses a hand to my cheek. “Yes, my love.”

He catches my hand and turns me back around. Without hesitation, he drops to one knee. There’s a ring in his hand, and a determined look in his eye. “Tessa Cade,” he says, “I’m ready now.”

“I know.” She wipes at her face. “I don’t want a pardon. You’re right—he doesn’t deserve a pardon.” She stares at me, her eyes still glistening. “Haven’t you ever trusted someone, only to find out everything you thought you knew was a lie?”

“Tessa, my dear friend.” Karri reaches out and puts a hand over mine. “You are going to make a great queen.”

I still see his grief in private, though, and I remember my talks with Olive, the way my grief over him would sneak up and hit me when I least expected it. But he lost his brother and his best friend all at once, and I sometimes worry that he won’t recover.

Corrick frowns. “You meant . . .” His eyebrows go up. “You thought I didn’t know?” I stare back at him, but the words catch in my throat and refuse to form. They don’t need to form, because he bursts out with, “How could I not know? You made eyes at that stable boy for months!” “What?” I sputter. “Every single time we went into the Wilds.” His voice drops to a mockery of mine. “ ‘Go find a game of cards, Cory. Doesn’t that look like a lively dance, little brother? I’m going to go see some horses. Why don’t you join those boys by the fire. I’ll be back in an hour.’ ” He rolls his eyes. “I was young, but I wasn’t stupid. Lord, Harristan. No one likes horses that much.” Quint bursts out laughing. Even the guards look like they’re trying to hide a smile.

“You’re proving my point,” I say. “If you knew, you never would have risen to be king. You always would have known I was in the shadows, judging your choices, your movements, your ideas.” “Then why did you tell me at all?” he demands. I reach out and ruffle his hair again. “Because I love you too much.” He catches my wrist, but then he grips my hand tight. His eyes gleam. “I’m very glad you did.” “So am I,” says Tessa. “Besides,” says Quint as he fetches the kettle to pour steaming cups of mulled wine, “I rather like having a cottage in Mosswell. The village gossip is downright vicious, and Sully can play with his horses all day—”

“Wait. You really do have a stable?” Tessa says in surprise. “Oh, yes,” I say. “Farther down the lane. Twenty horses. We did quite a business in the fall. Should have some foals come spring, too.” Corrick looks between us in wonder. “Twenty horses? How did you make that happen with just the clothes off your backs?”

Quint and I exchange a glance. “Oh, escaping from the palace took quite a bit of time, and once we knew you’d arrived safely, it’s rather possible we snuck back through some other tunnels because we knew how to reach the treasury—” “The looters!” Corrick smacks me on the arm. “You thief!” I smile. “Y...