Furysong (The Aurelian Cycle, #3)

by Rosaria Munda

“They watch us kneel, they see the back of our heads, and they think we’ve given in. They don’t realize you can think from your knees just as well as from your feet.”

But even knowing my own ignominy, I have a moment watching Griff glory in his bloodlust where all I can think is he was born for this moment, and he’s beautiful.

“These mere words, these stupid ideals: Those who don’t have them, underestimate them. They can’t imagine that your tiny flame of purpose could turn into a fire to burn down a world. They can’t imagine that such featherlight words will give you strength to endure the harshest pain. They can’t imagine ideas could be more powerful than dragonfire.

“You will have a candle in hand. A flame guttering in the wind. You will have to protect it. For a time, you may have to take it underground. And then you will have to decide how to use it. Will you make a conflagration, and build in the ashes? Will you light a lantern and climb, hoping that your light will be enough for those below? Or will you choose to light the way for someone else?”

Lee’s in a loose shirt and slimming trousers that, I suspect, he found in the armoire of the master bedroom. He looks good in them. With black hair sweeping across his forehead, a little overgrown, and a bit of a shadow on his chin, one more thing I resist saying is You look dashing, my lord.

I’m not sure which of us is going battier at this point, because even the crying makes me want to cover her face with sloppy kisses like Argos.

She looks so vulnerable, so small, I experience a moment of love for her so fierce it feels like panic.

I’d been worried about hurting her anyway. “There are other things we can do.” My face feels pleasantly warm remembering the bit that came after that. So, maybe we found a way of seizing our moment with no harm done. I still don’t intend to ever try it drunk again.

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

held Annie, like a lover, and didn’t pull the roof down on our heads for daring to be happy.

The truth is, for all Nestor blusters, for all he rants, when he is most tired, most despairing, the one he asks for is Delo. Nestor and I seem to have that in common.

Griff’s fingers pull, more persistently, at my hair. Like the curls are a puzzle he’ll solve.

When a government ceases to protect its people, it becomes necessary to overthrow it.”

He returns from the children’s wing with a simple brown wool dress, a mantle built into its collar, and well-worn riding boots. “This was Penelope’s favorite riding dress. She always talked about the pockets.” By now I’ve figured out whose clothes Lee’s been pilfering for my wardrobe, but this is the first time he’s said his sister’s name aloud. “Everyone likes a dress with pockets.”

Lee laces up the back. Then, very gently, he braids my hair and pulls my mother’s pendant from the neck of the dress to lay it on my breast. I’ve returned the Guardian wristband, with its summoner, to my wrist, where the silver and gold glints faintly against the brown wool. “There,” Lee says, turning me to face him. “The Lady of Farhall.”

“You put it in writing”—my voice shakes—“that we’re wed.” “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have. It was just a matter of paperwork—” “Why didn’t you ask me?” Lee swallows, pinching fingers to his nose, and looks down. “I would have said yes,” I breathe.

“I just wanted it to be in writing, somewhere. I wanted it to be in writing that it was you. For me. It’s always been you.”

Power sounds pleased with himself. “Nuts for her. Head over heels, would die to save her, in love with her. It’s completely unrequited, she and I both know it, and yet here I am hopelessly, madly in love with Antigone sur freaking Aela.”

“Some of the bravest women in our lives have been peasant women, Annie. They’re why we’re here. Even if they go unsung.”

“It’s been an honor, Commander.” At the gesture, I feel as if my heart has been torn open and apart.

“Were you trying to rescue me?” Delo asks. I’m grinning a bit, myself. “I mean, you’re my damsel.”

“I’m not the one with goliathan slobber on my face,” Delo says. He’s smirking. I wipe my face in horror. And then, before I know what’s happened, Delo leans forward and kisses me, slobber and all. I’m so surprised, I nearly forget how to kiss him back. But I remember fast enough.

Then I decided it was time I stopped waiting for Griff Gareson to find me first. I ran after him and said it. All of it. That I’d forsake my duty for him, but I couldn’t ask that of him for me. That he was, as Mabalena had put it, the sunlight in my darkness, that I would remember him always, my king across the sea, and I hoped he’d find happiness with whomever he made his queen.