“You wanted freedom, Brela,” he said, gesturing to the money. “Now you must be willing to make the decisions that come with that freedom.” He stepped closer. “If you walk out those doors, they will never open for you again. You must choose. Will you be the Veil Scholar, or will you be the Night Terror?”
Titles. Always titles.
Just once, she’d like to be given the chance to beBrela. Only Brela. She’d experienced it in life with Farrah and Elias. Serill had seen her as Brela, too. She’d tried to show the dragon who she was underneath all those titles, but he would always be held back by his chain.
Brela belonged within these walls. Truly. With the secrets she kept and the danger she would always be in, the safest place was as an assassin. Always hidden in the shadows, where secrets kept her alive.
She wasn’t a leader. She couldn’t stop the wall from breaking. She couldn’t stop the King of Anfroy.
But she’d made promises. To herself. To Fowke. To Lilla and Tybost. Her duty was with her people. No, she wasn’t a leader, but she could try. She had her father’s dagger. She was the Veil Scholar, and with her freedom, she could become what they needed her to be.
Ovir must have seen the change in her shoulders. He smiled softly—a real one, for once in his life—and kissed her cheek. “Good luck, my little nightmare.”
Once her feet started, Brela didn’t stop walking or she’d never leave. She didn’t look to the stairs that would lead her to her old room. Didn’t stop at the door when Emril shouted her name from the balcony. Didn’t stop after the gates closed behind her and Pierce’s murderous gaze followed her deep into the trees.
She only stopped walking when she could feel the shadows shift around her.
Someone was following her.
She ran.
* * *
Cason glaredat the soldier stationed in front of Lord Remont’s home. The man attempted to glare back, but Cason could hear his racing heart, see the dripping sweat off his brow,feelhis shaking bones.
Fear.
He’d gotten the same response from the other soldier who had volunteered a little too quickly to go inside once Cason had revealed his name and business. They’d seen his approach through the street, too. The wide berth people gave him when they weren’t lucky enough to sprint across the street to avoid him. Even the trees seemed to wither away as he stormed past.
Cason made no effort to quiet the fire inside his chest. Even his lightning was sparking in response to the events of the morning, itching for some sort of release.
I wanted you to come back to Aelstow with me.
His jaw clenched.
Brela, I love you.
Knuckles cracked as he squeezed his fists.
I never want to see you again.
He shifted his glare away from the soldier and instead stared at the rose bush just inside the golden gates. The man nearly melted in relief, his exhalation audible, but Cason didn’t acknowledge it as he counted the leaves.
He made it to eighty when he began to feel the walls of his fortress solidify. He focused on rebuilding the holes in the structure, tucking his emotions and magic inside. Then those walls crashed down again when he remembered who had taught him that trick.
It was too much. Every shadow that moved made him flinch and lose count. Every shift of darkness brought back memories. Every flicker of shade made him think of Brela.
Shadow-cursed. Trickster. Liar.
She wasMaeve. She’d come to that inn and used him. Every word, every action she’d used against him made sense now. That last kiss, his hand resting on her throat where she’d been hiding bruises, slipping into the night through the gods-damned window.
Instinctively, his hand moved to his leg and empty sheath. He had lost track of Brela’s throwing knife that night. He’d been confused how his senses had misplaced the feeling, but it had been her the entire time, that shard dulling his magic while she stole back her weapon.
How many times had he held that knife, taunted her with it, without realizing what he held? Was she just laughing behind his back at his stupidity? At how easily she had manipulated him?
How many things had he dismissed because she had tricked him into trusting her? How many of her reactions had he ignored because he had been blinded by her?
Blinded by hermagic. That black fire, the wave of darkness, her ability to become invisible to his senses… it should have been impossible.
