A Vow So Bold and Deadly (Cursebreakers, #3)

by Brigid Kemmerer

He pockets the coin, but he’ll probably give it to Tycho later. He dotes on the boy like an old grandmother. Or maybe like a father missing the son he once lost.

“When he’s cornered, Rhen can be efficiently brutal himself.” “Yes, Your Highness.” Iisak makes the flame flicker again, and it glints off his black eyes. “So can you.”

When Grey was trapped here with me, I took solace in the fact that I never suffered alone. Now I do, and it’s … agonizing.

I’m confident in my strengths, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think about my weaknesses. Lately, I’ve been wondering if the choice to stay here is a weakness.

When it comes to strategic planning, Rhen can be downright brilliant—but he can also be an epic ass.

In another life, we’d be getting ready for prom, not getting ready for a party that’s really an excuse to build alliances in anticipation of war.

The last thing I need is for Rhen to hear us being announced without him. He’d be pissed, and I’d probably knock him down the stairs.

There’s a part of me that’s immeasurably sad, too. Like I could punch him in the face and then run off sobbing.

“Because Grey spent his life doing everything you asked, and the first time he didn’t, you strung him up on that wall.”

Such a weapon could be used against Lilith.

“His Highness ordered me to keep you on the castle grounds.” OH, DID HE.

I have learned that when you go missing, I should check the stables first. Grey said that to me, on my second day in Emberfall.

We might not like each other right now, but we understand each other.

“When you did that,” I whisper, “you were so much more frightening than you ever were as a monster.”

“Cut all their hands off,” Nolla Verin, my sister, mutters from her throne on my opposite side. Ellia Maya, another advisor who’s always been close to my sister, laughs under her breath. Nolla Verin flashes her a smile.

I never thought any of my subjects would see a man at my side as another brand of weakness.

Fell siralla was once a bit of an endearment between me and Lia Mara, but I’ve learned that here in Syhl Shallow, it’s a real insult. Stupid man.

He says magic in the same voice he’d use to accuse me of cheating. Not quite mockery, but definitely contempt.

At first, the younger soldiers all but refused to spar with “the boy,” but Tycho put one of them on the ground in less than twenty seconds, so now they grudgingly allow it.

“I think it was made to look like magic.” He pauses. “When people are afraid of something, it’s easy to bolster their fear.”

“Fell vale,” says Lia Mara, and I look down. Gentle man. Far from it. I want to fight something into the ground. There’s a part of me that regrets that they already killed her attacker—for reasons that have nothing to do with interrogation. “I don’t feel very gentle right now,” I say.

Lia Mara begins unbuckling my bracer, and I want to resist, but her fingers are light and deft—and I’m generally powerless when there is something she wants.

But then I realize her heart is pounding in her chest. Her fingers are gripped tight to the arm I have wrapped around her. She’s not angry. She’s afraid. That steals some of my anger, replacing it with a fierce protectiveness. I brush my lips against her temple. “Fear not,” I say softly, the same words I once spoke to her in Blind Hollow, after a soldier from Emberfall had put a knife to her neck. “No one will touch you again.”

Jake is here, too, along the wall with the guards. He should be out on the training fields, or spending time with Noah, or practicing swordplay with Tycho, but instead he’s here, his cool eyes assessing everyone who comes through the doors. He’s far less stoic than Grey, a bit more flippant and irreverent, but he’s grown every bit as dangerous as the sword-wielding prince at my side.

Grey said Nolla Verin might be weakening my position, but it’s not her. It’s me.

I’ve never been afraid of my people. I refuse to start now.

then his hand rests over mine and he gives my fingers a gentle squeeze. This is one of my favorite things about him. He could easily take control. He could have taken over in the throne room, and I wouldn’t have stopped him. He could be questioning my guards and making demands. But he’s not. He’s not yielding, either. He’s … he’s supporting.

“But I also know you are stronger than your fear.”

“If only Rhen longed for the same.” Grey frowns. “In truth … I think he does.” He pauses. “I sometimes wonder if his actions were not solely due to fear of magic, but resentment that the curse was broken, yet he was still trapped. Envy that I was able to find freedom while he was not.”

“So we’re about to lead a fractured army into Emberfall, to face a fractured country.” “Yes.” He sighs heavily. “Our mission of peace.”

“As I said,” he murmurs, and there’s pride in his voice. “You are stronger than your fear.”

“I wouldn’t want to face you on a battlefield.” “I wouldn’t want to face you on a battlefield either.” “Liar,” I say, and I’m teasing, yet also serious. “I could never defeat you in battle.” “On the contrary.” He takes my hand and kisses my fingertips. “You know all the ways to make me yield.”

eschews

I lift her hand to kiss her knuckles, and she blushes. “Well,” she says coyly. “Perhaps you should not take too long.” That makes me want to follow her immediately. But I have a field full of soldiers, and I’ve gained ground. I can’t lose it now.

“She was wrong.” He hesitates, glancing from my hand to my face. “Wrong?” “She said I would have ordered you to fight until you couldn’t hold a sword.” I lean in, keeping my voice low. “She was wrong. I would have tied it to your hand.”

Jake has sheathed his weapons, and he comes to my side. “I wish Lia Mara hadn’t made you stop,” he says, his voice low even though most of the soldiers have already moved off the field. “I wanted to see that guy puke on his boots.” “Me too,” I say, and he grins.

I once asked Noah how many people come to him after Drathea fails to cure their ills, and he graciously said he doesn’t keep track—and then Jake leaned in and whispered, “I’ve seen his notes. He’s up to seventy-six.”

His bravery is simple, uncomplicated. Like the day he left Rhen and Ironrose behind, when Noah feels strongly about something, he’s calm and collected about it, but his will is iron strong. So is mine.

“There, there,” she says after a moment. “Tell me who I can stab for you.”

“Please don’t hurt me, assassins! Would anyone like a sweet pastry? ”

“Ah, sister.” Nolla Verin swears. “How can you ask them to fight for you when you won’t fight for yourself?”

I wouldn’t expect anyone to come in through a third-story window, but Grey once climbed a rope to get into these chambers, so I know it’s not impossible.

“Indeed,” says Grey. “Your chef’s roasted chicken often brings me to tears, too.” His voice is so dry that it makes me giggle through my tears. “In a good way?” He grimaces. “No. She may as well light it on fire.”

“As I said,” he whispers, his voice a low rasp, “you know all the ways to make me yield.” This is different from the wildfire attraction of a moment ago. More powerful. More precious. This is trust. Faith. Hope. Love.

I am torn between wanting to stay by her side until the end of time, and wanting to find every single person who would dare wish her harm so I can put a blade through them myself. I have felt protective of her for ages, of all my friends, but this … this is different suddenly. Not an obligation. An imperative. A fierce urgency.

“If you don’t stop looking at me like that,” I say, “I will be forced to spend the day here.” “Do you mean that to be a warning? Because it sounds like a promise.”

I turn to stride down the hallway, but I’m not surprised at all when Jake falls into step beside me. “Don’t start,” I say. “You do realize you’re blushing.” I’m not. At least I hope I’m not. He grins. Silver hell. “You must be exhausted,” he continues, “after … ah, standing guard.” I give him a look and wonder how much of this I’m going to have to endure. “What?” he says innocently. I mimic his always-irreverent tone. “Don’t be a dick, Jake.”

Jake bows to her, and at first I think it’s mockery and I’m going to have to punch him.

“You do not need to chase your opponent,” I say. “If someone is truly your enemy, they will come back to you.” She stops and stares at me, and I realize what I’ve said. I wonder if she’s thinking of Grey—who didn’t try to come after me. I’m thinking of Lilith, whom I can’t shake loose.

I wonder how much longer Dustan will give me privacy before opening the door to make sure Zo isn’t feeding my body parts to the wood stove.