Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 206625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 827(@250wpm)___ 689(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 206625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 827(@250wpm)___ 689(@300wpm)
“I’m not sure I can grin and bear it.” Not with the way people constantly glance at his wrist, like he’s the one who personally led the army to the border.
Dain smiles as the king takes his leave, then glances over his shoulder, meeting my gaze and heading our way.
He grins, and it’s all too easy to remember how many events just like this we’ve attended together over the years. His touch is gentle when he cups my cheek. “You look beautiful tonight, Vi.”
“Thank you.” I smile. “You look fabulous yourself.”
His hand falls away as he turns to Liam. “Has this one tried to escape yet? She’s always hated these things.”
“Not yet, but the evening is young,” Liam replies.
Dain must read the tense lines of Liam’s face, because his smile slips when he looks back at me. “The staircase is about five feet to our right. I’ll distract while you slip away.”
“Thank you.” I nod in thanks, offering him a soft smile. “Let’s get out of here,” I say to Liam.
Once we’re out of the party and back in the Riders Quadrant, I walk straight into the courtyard and ground, letting power swirl around and through me. I sense the golden energy from Andarna, the blazing power from Tairn that connects me to Sgaeyl, and finally, the shimmering shadows of Xaden.
I open my eyes, tracing the ebb and flow of that shimmering shadow, and I know he’s somewhere in front of me.
“Liam, you know I adore you, right?”
“Well, that’s nice—”
“Go away.” I walk straight ahead through the courtyard.
“What?” Liam catches up to me. “I can’t just leave you out here by yourself.”
“No offense, but I can fry this entire place with a lightning bolt if I want to, and I need to see Xaden, so go.” I pat his arm and keep striding toward the feeling, using it to guide me.
“I mean, your aim is shit according to you, but I get the rest!” he calls out, falling behind.
I don’t bother with a mage light as I pass the area where we usually stand in formation and keep walking toward the figures lounging against the only opening in this godsforsaken wall. There’s only one place Xaden can be.
“Tell me he’s not out there,” I say to Garrick and Bodhi, whose features I can barely see in the moonlight.
“I could tell you that, but I’d be lying,” Bodhi remarks, rubbing the back of his neck.
“You’re not going to want to see him. Not tonight, Sorrengail,” Garrick warns with a grimace. “Self-preservation is a thing. Notice we’re not with him, and we’re his best friends.”
“Yeah, well, I’m his…” I open my mouth and shut it a few times because…fuck if I know what I am to him. But the longing that holds my heart hostage, this driving need to be at his side because I know he’s suffering, no matter if it means throwing myself headfirst into uncertainty…I can’t deny what he is to me. I kick off the leather slippers of my dress uniform—they’re more of a hazard than anything, and in this wind? Well, we’ll see how it goes. “I’m just…his.”
For the first time since last year, I step up onto the parapet.
As for the 107 innocents, the children of the executed officers, they now carry what shall be known as the rebellion relic, transferred by the dragon who carried out the king’s justice. And to show the mercy of our great king, they will all be conscripted into the prestigious Riders Quadrant at Basgiath, so they may prove their loyalty to our kingdom with their service or with their death.
—Addendum 4.2, the Treaty of Aretia
CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO
Walking the parapet on Conscription Day is a certifiable risk.
Walking the parapet in a dress uniform, barefoot, in the dark? Now this is madness.
The first ten feet, while I’m still inside the walls, are the easiest, and as I reach the edge, where the wind ruffles my skirt like a sail, I start to doubt my plan. It’s going to be hard to get to Xaden if I fall to my death.
But I see him sitting about a third of the way across the narrow stone bridge, staring up at the moon like it somehow adds to the burden he carries, and my heart fucking hurts. He had the lives of all one hundred and seven marked ones carved into his back, taking responsibility for them. But who takes responsibility—takes care—of him?
Everyone across the ravine is celebrating his father’s death, and he’s out here mourning it alone. When Brennan died, I had Mira and Dad, but Xaden’s had no one.
You don’t really know me. Not at my core. Isn’t that how he replied when I told him that I’d end up falling for him? As if knowing him would somehow make me want him less, but everything I learn about him only makes me tumble harder and faster.