I peered down at the sword in my hands. Roman had informed me, the moment we’d reached the river, that I wouldn’t be allowed a weapon when we entered Archí. It wouldn’t do for Prima to see a Victor entering her holy land with a sword in hand. He’d allowed me to keep it for my own defense when we’d seen the invasion but that time had passed.
Now he waited with his hand on his own sword, tense and anticipating a fight. Kseniawaseyeingme from where she stood a few paces away, arms crossed and daggers within reach. Rainier’s riders were still nearby as well, armed and adrenaline rushing from battle. I sighed but handed back the sword, trying hard not to look at the blood staining my arms, my chest, my legs. Everywhere.
I'd killed them. More of them. Recruits, boys, men I'd trained with, men I'd scouted with, men I'd shared bunks and bread with. I turned away, sickened by the corpses piled around us.
“You fought well,” Roman said quietly.
I could only nod in response, not looking him directly in the eye. Instead, I approached my horse, stepped into the stirrups, and mounted. I held my hands in front of me and settled intothe saddle silently. Roman gaped at me, mouth open in surprise, before slowly binding my hands, a precaution he’d never taken before but Rainier had been all over him to do since he joined us. I dropped them to my sides once he was finished, closing my eyes and resigning myself to the fate I’d known I was riding toward all along. I was tired of deciding what was right and what was wrong. Let Adrian decide. Let Adrian be my judge. I couldn’t. Not anymore.
“Rainier!” one of the riders exclaimed.
I looked up to see the man himself emerge from the tree line opposite the river, two riders and threeZverfollowing close behind him. His jaw was set firm as he approached.
“Did you find her?” another rider asked before he could reach us.
“I did,” he replied, though he wasn’t smiling about it. “As didChassina.”
A rider swore.Chassina. Another hero of legend andRainier's ownpartner if memory served. So she'd made the same choice I had. She'd pushedRainierto his death and was now chasing Third Ring girls around somegodsforsakenforest. I restrained the urge to roll my eyes. Oh, how the mighty had fallen.
“Where is she?”Kseniaasked, stepping forward with concern. “Did they take her?”
“She’s safe,” Rainier said, his eyes meeting Roman’s. “She’s with the General.”
“Then she’s anything but safe!” Roman exploded, striding suddenly toward his horse.
“Captain—”
“We should go. Now.”
“Prima trusts him.”
“Then she’s a fool. We sent her a warning about him. We—”
“Yes. Your twenty-six-year-old prince who's spent his life behind a wall wrote to warn her of the dangers of her Generalwho's been at her side for five hundred years. I’m sure you can imagine which of them she's inclined to believe.”
Roman’s jaw clenched.
“He insulted my court,” Roman spat. “He insulted my prince.”
“Mortals are far too easily offended. Especially the royal ones,” Rainier said, waving the Captain off dismissively. “You hold far too many grudges for such short lifespans.”
Roman turned red.
“I will not treat with her if he’s around,” Roman threatened.
“Captain,” Ksenia gasped.
“I don’t care whether you do or you don’t,” Rainier said, mounting hisZver. “My job is to take you to her. Nothing more.”
Then he was airborne, his riders rising to follow a moment later.Kseniaremained behind long enough to shake her head disapprovingly at the Captain before she mounted her own beast and took to the skies as well. I watched Roman as they went, wondering if I was about to see a man throw away his country’s best chance of an alliance for some old disagreement with the ally’s General. It didn’t take long for the Captain to snap his reins and mutter a command for me to follow.
So he was going to take the high road then. How inconvenient.
We heard the wailing when we were still in the forest. I closed my eyes and muttered a prayer when we passed the first mourner, rocking back and forth on her knees, sobbing for the slain little boy she held in her arms. I realized then who I was praying to and stopped. Instead, I looked away.
But there were more.
Mourning mothers and grieving fathers. Sobbing sisters and stunned brothers. Men and women with arms stained bloody from carrying the dead stared at me with cold, dead eyes as I rode past, my chains clinking against the side of my horse. I realized why an instant later. I was still wearingmyPavosianleathers and, chained as I was in a procession led by Rainier and his riders, I appeared to be an enemy captured.
