A Heart So Fierce and Broken Page 62

Waiting on me.

My heart is a steady thrum in my chest. I don’t know how to do this.

This is different from when we were in the woods. Different from when I’d tell Tycho what horses to pull for the tourney. Different from when I was a guardsman.

As commander, I could give orders almost without thought. I know where to position guards, how to survey a crowd, how to determine who might hide a weapon or who might deserve greater scrutiny.

Lia Mara would know how to proceed. She was raised to be a queen—and it was stripped from her. As Prince Grey, I have been thrust into a role for which I am wholly unprepared.

Much like Harper, I realize. She stepped into the role of princess as if she’d been born to it. She made a good match for Rhen, relying on her wits instead of a lifetime of preparation.

Rhen always planned his moves out in advance. He was never comfortable thinking on his feet. But Harper was. She was often reckless and unconventional in her methods, but she would make a decision and act on it without hesitation.

I can do that, too. Guardsmen never have the luxury of advance notice.

I look at the others. “Karis Luran wants to use me against Prince Rhen. That is the only leverage we have here.” I pause. “It is very little. Despite what happened in Blind Hollow, Rhen has been the crown prince since I was a child. His people know him. He rallied them once. Despite what is happening in Emberfall, he can rally them again. I have little doubt.”

“He rallied them based on an alliance with Disi,” says Jake. “And there is no alliance.”

“That’s going to break some major trust,” says Noah. “The people already suspect something is amiss.”

I glance at him. “Yes. There are no armies—and Karis Luran knows this.”

“You have magic,” Tycho says softly.

I flex my hand and look at my fingers. “But I have no armies. No crown. I have magic in my blood, but so far I have little talent for using it.”

“I don’t think saving the lives of a dozen people counts as little talent,” says Noah.

“Karis Luran will not be impressed by the preservation of lives. She knows I was not raised as royalty. She knows I was a guardsman. She will expect me to yield and obey. She expects to use me as a pawn against Emberfall.” I stop to collect my thoughts. “If I refuse to play along, she could refuse to offer sanctuary. Worse, she could hand us over to Rhen.”

“Well,” Noah drawls, “I don’t think it’s as bleak as all that.” I look at him, and he runs a hand across his jaw. “Well, Rhen won’t work with her. He wouldn’t negotiate with Lia Mara, and he was ready to kill you. I don’t know that he’d leap into an alliance at this point—and she wouldn’t have been seeking one if she didn’t need it badly. And no matter how he feels about Harper, he’s definitely not going to risk his kingdom for Jake’s life. We’re not as powerless as you think we are.”

I glance away. “Perhaps not. But I have no followers. I have no … no subjects. Parts of Emberfall may be rebelling against Prince Rhen, but some parts will not. He may not be able to raise a full army, but he has subjects who are sworn to him. Who will fight for him.”

Tycho leaves his spot by the wall. He draws his sword.

“What are you doing?” I say.

He stops in front of me and, without hesitation, drops to one knee.

“Tycho,” I say, my voice ragged. “Stop.”

He lays the sword on the stone floor, then presses his hands together in front of his face. His eyes are intent and earnest. No uncertainty exists in his expression—only calm determination. “I swear fealty to you, Prince Grey of Emberfall. I swear my heart and my hands and my home, in service to you and in service to the throne. I swear my—I swear to be—” He stumbles over his words and looks aggrieved. “I forget the rest of what I’m supposed to say. But I swear to you.” He swallows, and his expression is an echo of the look on his face when I said I had asked Jake to ride at my side, but he does not falter. “I know I’m just one person, but I will follow you. I will fight for you. I swear to you.”

I should grab his arms, drag him off his knees, and remind him that this is treason. But as I stare down at him, emotion becomes a weight in my chest that will not lighten. This stopped being treason the moment Rhen strung up an innocent boy beside me in that courtyard. My heart has known it all along. My thoughts just needed to catch up.

Tycho is one person, but for so long, that’s all Rhen had, too. I glance at Jake and Noah. I’m not alone here.

“Pick up your sword,” I say to Tycho, and my voice is still rough. “Lay it across your hands. If you will swear, do it as a warrior.”

 

Guards escort us to the throne room, led by Captain Sen Domo. Sunlight and warmth fill the space, and the windows facing the city must be fifty feet high. I have never seen such panes of glass. The back wall of the throne room is the solid rock of the mountain, deep reds and soft browns shot through with streaks of black and silver and gold. After growing up on a poor farm, Ironrose Castle left me as awestruck as Tycho when I first beheld it, but this is something different entirely. Torches have been set deep into the granite walls, flickering every few feet. A raised dais sits along the stone wall, with two thrones carved from onyx stretching high above their occupants. Guards are everywhere, but the four surrounding the dais are clad differently, their faces half-veiled in steel to make them androgynous, their weapons lighter and less obvious. The Royal Guard of Syhl Shallow.

Karis Luran sits atop the larger of the two thrones, her red hair framing a severe face of sharp cheekbones and cream-colored skin. She does not smile. To her left must be Nolla Verin, and I can see why Lia Mara spoke so highly of her sister’s beauty. The girl is younger than I expected, her jet-black hair twisting in a shiny mass to pool beside her on the throne. Her skin is smooth and pale and perfect, with a pink curve of a mouth and eyes so light a brown that they appear gold.

Eyes that are not warm at all, but are instead calculating, conniving, and cold.

To her left, on a smaller chair set a slight distance apart, sits Lia Mara. After days in the woods, I’d forgotten how her red hair shines in the light, how her lips always look like they are keeping a secret that she’ll share when the time is right. She looks lovely and warm and honest, and I wish with all my might that I could draw her down off the dais to stand beside me.

She will not meet my eyes.

You are a prince, and I am not a princess.

I didn’t fully understand before. Now I do.

Karis Luran stares down at me. “I never thought to look down on a guardsman turned prince,” she says. “Such a turn of events to benefit you.”

The words sound like a compliment, but they are measured and weighed to remind me of my place. Luckily I spent years serving the royal family of Emberfall. I spent an eternity serving Rhen. She can try her best, but I doubt she’d come close to the nonsense I’ve endured.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” I say evenly. “I never thought to look at you as a potential ally. How fate bewitches us all.”

She smiles thinly. “You are more polite than your younger brother.”

A jolt goes through me at the word brother, but I know better than to let it show. “Let us blame my common upbringing.”