“Those like my father.” Fiera pinched the bridge of her nose with a sigh and shook her head, walking over to one of the three large windows that dominated one wall of her sitting room. They towered over her, making even Fiera seem small. “He wanted to defend Norin until it was ashes. He would’ve seen every last man and woman of the kingdom die if that’s what it took to prevent Mhashan bending to Solaris.”
“Foolish men and their foolish honor.” Zira tipped her head against the side of the wingback, looking to Fiera. The princess was still avoiding eye contact with both of them.
“Foolish people who cannot see the world changing around them,” Fiera said thoughtfully. “We are a people surrounded by desert. Yet somehow, there are those who cannot see how power shifts like sand in the wind. It blows one way, then another. You can never expect it to be in the same place for long.
“Mhashan was not made strong because of our cities of immovable stone. The Ci’Dan family did not rise to prominence because we were rigid. It was because we could adapt.”
Vi continued to stare at the princess’s back. Fiera would give up everything to save what she loved. Not to preserve the world as she knew it, and had always known it—but to see it thrive, to continue on even if that meant letting it change.
A thought settled at the forefront of Vi’s mind: when she had gone to Meru to be the Goddess’s Champion, what had she been fighting for? Had she wanted to see her family thrive in whatever form that took? Or had she only wanted to see her family as she had envisioned them?
“The fact remains that not all possess your wisdom,” Vi said, silently including herself in the sentiment. “And those men and women will band together.”
“He said the war was only just beginning.” Fiera turned away from the window at last. “You said you believe the attacks will continue. How do you think they’ll strike next?”
“All wars need a general. In the case of the Knights of Jadar, that general is designated by a singular object—”
“A sword,” Fiera finished for her. “They will never lay their hands on my grandfather’s sword.”
“It sees the light of day rarely enough,” Zira murmured.
“They will go after it though, regardless of where it is. If they even sense the edge of its power, these false Knights will hunt it.” Vi braced herself for what she needed to ask next. “If I’m to be effective as your guard, I need to know where it is.”
For the first time, Fiera didn’t immediately acquiesce. Vi supposed she should be grateful; Fiera’s caution surrounding the sword was their first line of defense.
“It took me three years to lay eyes on it.” Zira stood. “Why do you think she should show you? You’ve only just entered her service.”
“Because my only goal is to protect it,” Vi said as earnestly as possible. She pushed away from the wall and allowed her arms to fall to her sides, abandoning her previously defensive position. “Because I have a sense about it, just as I had a sense earlier this day about the attack.”
“What sense?” Fiera looked between her and Zira.
“She did tell me as we were walking to the storehouse that she felt uneasy. But then again, we all did.”
Fiera debated this a moment before slowly approaching Vi. She searched Vi’s face and narrowed her eyes slightly, as if she could extract any falsehoods from Vi’s eyes alone. Vi worked to make sure she didn’t hesitate, which seemed nearly impossible under the woman’s relentless inspections.
“I need more from you,” she said finally. “Your words, the feeling of fate steeped in the air around you… it has gotten you this far. But I need more from you if I am to bestow this most prized secret on you.”
It was fair, more than fair. Vi had earned Fiera’s trust thanks to the woman’s senses. But she’d found the extent of that good will and now the real work would have to begin. Taavin had cautioned her as much.
“I see more than the future,” Vi confessed softly, her voice nearly quivering. She was walking a very fine, very dangerous line. “I was chosen by the Mother herself to defend this world and the sword will play a role in that. Keeping it from falling into the wrong hands is all I desire.”
“Chosen by the Mother?” Zira repeated, though Vi couldn’t tell if her tone was one of belief or incredulity.
“It’s true,” Vi continued, speaking directly to Fiera. “And if you take me to the sword, I can give you proof of my claim that will satisfy you.” Fiera was immobile as a statue, listening, waiting. It was that expectant tension that had Vi adding, “Should it not, then kill me there and I will take the secret of the sword’s location to my grave.”
The princess took a step backward, then nodded. She glanced to Zira and said, “I’m going to accept Yullia’s offer. Keep your blade ready.”
Zira gripped the pommel of her sword and Vi’s heart began to race.
Fiera was ever the double-edged sword and Vi walked the ridge down the middle. Would she end on the side that would protect her? Or was the sharper edge about to be turned against her?
Her future with Fiera balanced on what happened next and, unfortunately for Vi, she had no idea what she was about to do to earn the trust she needed.
Chapter Ten
Luckily,Vi had a bit of a walk to think about her plans. Even better, the walk was done entirely in silence. Fiera led them down through the castle with Vi in the middle and Zira behind her.
As Vi walked, she scribbled down a mental list of things she could do to prove to Fiera she was meant to have the sword. She could try to look into the future and if that didn’t work, perhaps summon a glyph? That would seem mysterious enough.
