I expect him to tell me to stop, that helping might be too dangerous, but the king calls, “Fit him with a breastplate, Tycho. There may be others.”
Tycho finds me a breastplate—and a pair of steel-lined leather bracers, too. As he helps me lace and buckle the armor onto my body, I try not to think too hard about the fact that the last person to wear these died in them.
Tycho surprises me when he adds a dagger belt with a weapon strung along the length.
“I’d rather you have one if you need it.” He tugs at the strap, pulling it tight, then stands back to look at me. “You make a good soldier.”
That sparks a light in my heart, and I have to look away before my throat tightens. I shake off the emotion, hook my crutches under my arms, and move to the next body.
I have to do a double take, because it’s my father.
He’s clearly dead. He wore no armor, and there’s an arrow through his chest. I remember the moment I saw him lift that crossbow.
Tycho goes still beside me, then puts a hand on my shoulder. His voice is very soft. “Jax.”
I try to breathe past my shock. I wait for remorse to hit me just as hard, but it doesn’t.
Resolve does.
My father made his choice, and so did I.
What are you afraid of, Jax?
Not my father. Not anymore.
I reach down and jerk the arrow free, then plant my crutches in the ground to move on to the next.
CHAPTER 62
CALLYN
There’s a queen in my bedroom, and a king down the lane, but somehow Nora is snoring away, little Sinna asleep at her side. Honestly, I’m glad they’re asleep. The men have been searching bodies and stockpiling weapons all day, but now they’ve moved on to dragging corpses farther down the lane. My little sister doesn’t need to see that. The princess definitely doesn’t.
I’m down in the bakery, wiping counters that don’t need to be wiped and setting dough to rise for bread I’m going to feed to the royal family. I feel like I’ll never sleep again. Maybe I’ll be hung for treason tomorrow, and I reallywon’tever sleep again.
I heard what the king said to Jax, but he didn’t say it to me.
And Jax wasn’t the one who invited Lord Alek right into her bedroom.
I swallow and glance at the front window. Those scravers left hours ago, but I won’t be able to erase what I saw them do. I won’t be able to forget how the queen used magic to save my sister.
Or maybe …
I stop my thoughts in their tracks. I hold a hand to Mother’s pendant, feeling its warmth press into my skin.
Alek said it was charmedagainstmagic. But I remember having my hands on Nora’s chest, how she was able to breathe while we waited for help. I remember the stars in my vision before the queen even touched her, how those stars seemed to multiply when the scravers arrived. I remember how Tycho explained to the queen that their rings allowed magic to seep into their blood.
I thought I was lightheaded from the panic and worry, but maybe it was something else.
I pause in my scrubbing and reach for one of my knives. Before I can think about it too closely, I touch the blade to a fingertip, and a drop of blood almost immediately wells up.
I close my eyes, thinking of those sparks and stars, imagining them. My finger is stinging something fierce, and I feel foolish.
I sigh and open my eyes, then use my rag to swipe away the drop of blood.
No injury remains. I stare at my finger, breathless.
Magic.
