Forging Silver into Stars (Forging Silver into Stars #1)

by Brigid Kemmerer

“If anything, Tycho’s loyalty is rather … impressive,” Alek continues, and his voice is just as even as Rhen’s. “I personally would find it rather challenging to devote myself to a king who once fled his duty, hid his identity, lied about his abilities, and then allowed me to be chained to a wall and flogged.” There’s blood on my tongue. I’ve bitten the inside of my cheek. I don’t think I’m breathing. Alek glances at Rhen. “To say nothing of carrying that devotion so far as to sit here politely playing cards with the man responsible.”

I am but a soldier for the cause. Surely a soldier would have to believe in the cause. I don’t know if I believe in this one.

“We could begin more slowly,” I say. “Don’t make me stab you.” “Haven’t you been trying?”

“But expecting more from my people is not a weakness. It is hope. It is patience. It is grace. But those virtues don’t mean the absence of viciousness. The true weakness is to think a queen is powerless.”

I set my jaw. “I would rather not say, Your Majesty.” “Tycho, if you call me that again, I am going to punch you in the face.” “Good.” I let go of Mercy’s reins and shove him square in the chest. “Do it.”

“I don’t stand with the Truthbringers,” I say. “I stand with Tycho. If he would fight for you, so will I.” “Tycho risked his position at court for you,” the king says. “He risked his life for you.” I inwardly flinch, then blink sweat out of my eyes. “I know.” I draw a shaky breath and watch blisters erupt on my fingers where they grip the chain. “I know.” “Make it worth it.”

“No soldiers,” he says. “You have me.” The words fall into the silence and hang there. The queen reaches out to squeeze his hand. “There are few people I would rather have at my side.”

“I’m not a soldier,” I say to him, as if there’s any chance he wasn’t sure. “No one really is until they have to be.”

“Fate has already drawn a path beyond this moment, Jax. Let’s follow it through.”

My father made his choice, and so did I. What are you afraid of, Jax? Not my father. Not anymore. I reach down and jerk the arrow free, then plant my crutches in the ground to move on to the next.

“Forgive me,” I say tearfully. “I shouldn’t cry.” On the queen of all people. “Oh no,” she says. “You should cry all you want. Big sisters rarely get the chance.”