“I’m sorry,” I say.
“So am I. That war took a lot from us all.”
This conversation reminds me of another one I had—weeks ago, with Lord Alek. He lost his mother in that same battle, where hundreds of soldiers were killed by a magical monster—crafted by the same magic the king wields. And later, as part of the same conflict, his sister was killed.
A twinge of sympathy for Alek tugs at my heart. I want to shove it away, but I can’t. He may have done horrible things, but magic has done a lot of horrible things, too.
General Solt claps me on the shoulder. “I’ll see if I can find anyone in the barracks who might have served with your mother. I’m sure you’d like to hear old stories.”
There’s a tightness in my throat, but I manage a weak smile. “That’s very kind, thank you.”
He nods, then looks to Verin. “I need to join Grey on the fields so we can dismiss the recruits before dinner. He’s had a lot of long nights.I’m sure he’s ready.” He offers me and my sister a nod. “Enjoy your lessons.”
“Thank you,” we say, but the first part of what he’s said has lodged in my thoughts.
Grey.The king.
He’s had a lot of long nights.
So maybe the morning he found us chasing Sinna wasn’t the only time he didn’t go to bed. I wonder what’s happening with the Truth-bringers. Or maybe he and the queen have finally questioned Alek, and now they have others to arrest and detain.
The queen’s sister gestures to Nora. “You first,” she says.
Nora climbs under the arena railing as if she’d been promised a pile of silver topped with sweetcakes. “Yes, Your Highness.”
“In here, just Verin is fine.” The princess smiles. “Everything else takes too long in battle.”
As they begin talking about blocks and punches, I watch General Solt stride out of the arena and into the dimming sunlight. There was no tension in his voice when he mentioned the king—despite the fact that his brother died in the same war. No bitterness, no undercurrent of anger about being forced to serve under a man who bears the same magic that caused so much tragedy. If anything, there was a note of camaraderie, something akin to true friendship.
It rattles my foundation, the way the king’s comment about where to find sweetcakes left me feeling like I couldn’t find the right footing.
It’s like Nora said. I expected the king to be ugly and twisted. Cold, capricious, and cruel.
He’s not—and even theawarenessfeels like a betrayal.
Verin and my sister grapple and punch and chase each other around the arena for an hour. Eventually, my sister is red-cheeked and breathing hard, and her braids are a little frayed. But the smile on her face isa mile wide, even though her knuckles look a little raw. She’s staring up at Verin like she’s found a new hero.
“That was amazing,” she says between breaths.
“Come back tomorrow. We’ll do a little more each day.” Verin points back at the entrance to the palace. “You need to get some water. And some dinner. No need to wait on your sister. On your way, stop at the armory and tell Master Hidder that I said you need to be fitted with a weapons belt and some training blades.”
I think Nora might actually take flight. “Yes, Your Highness—Verin—thank you!” But her voice trails off, because she’s already sprinting away.
Verin turns to me, and I’m ready to thank her as well, because her kindness to my sister was really quite endearing. I expect her attitude to be similar with me: encouraging yet firm.
But her eyes meet mine, and there’s a sharpness in her gaze. “Explain your relationship with Lord Alek.”
She might as well have shot me with an arrow. “I . . . ?I don’t have a relationship with him. I hate him.”
“I heard what he said to you, and I saw the way you punched him. Why did you hit him like that?”
My cheeks warm, and I wish they would stop. “I’d hit him again if I could.”
She takes a step closer to me, until the only thing between us is the narrow arena fence. Her eyes, which were so warm for Nora, are coolly picking me apart. “You still haven’t answered my question.”
“I was defending my sister,” I say.
“Now I’m defendingmine. Explain your relationship with him.”
