I didn't want to think. Didn't want to feel. I sat numbly, and combed my hair. The comb hit a bad snarl and I yanked in frustration. Might as well take this trick knife and cut it all off.Marcus spoke. "If the sweat is as bad as you say, maybe we should cut her hair. It will be hard tokeep clean, and will tangle."
"No," Keir answered softly. He was beside me, running his fingers through my hair, pulling it offmy face. "No need. I'll braid it for her. I'll not see it cut."I closed my eyes at the memory, and the pain washed over me again. Keir . . . I flushed with shame, knowing now what I'd asked of Isdra. She'd been prepared to follow Epor into death, and I tried to stop her, with the weakest of arguments. How hollow my words seemed now that I wanted to do exactly the same thing. There are no words, no medicine, to heal this wound. I was mortified that I had even thought I could. My tears welled up again, the pain that I so desperately didn't want to feel rising within my chest. We all like to think we're strong, until we are faced with our own loss. I opened my eyes, and stared at the comb in my hands.
Goddess above, what was I to do?
My breathing slowed. Death held no fear for me, if I'd ride at Keir's side to the snows. I dropped the comb, and twisted my wrist. The blade popped out, just like it was designed to do. Bright and sharp. Xymund had intended that it be used to end my life, back at Water's Fall. It was sharp enough.
I looked at it for long moments, feeling a strange sense of peace. I knew the hows of the deed. I was a healer, after all.
"No." I gripped his arm with my good hand and tried to pull myself up. Keir helped me withouteven thinking about it. "I want a bath now. I stink. I don't care what the water is like."Keir blinked and frowned. "Gils needs to check—"
"Gils can check it after 1 have bathed."
"Gils said—"
"Who is the healer here?" 1 took a step.
His lips quirked. "Master healer, if I remember right."
I smiled. "The Master wants a bath."
He smiled. "Then, Master, you shall have one."
I smiled even as I sobbed, placing the blade against my wrist. Better to die at my own hand than at Iften's.
Keir would be waiting.
Marcus would be waiting.
Papa would be waiting. . . .
Chapter 16
"The price of privilege is responsibility."
I stayed my hand. Papa, no. I want—
But I heard Papa's voice as he spoke those words, remembered the lessons at his knee. I saw the faces of the people of Xy, kneeling in the hallways as I'd walked through the castle. Remembered the babies'
faces and their cries as I'd delivered them from their mother's body in the tents of the Plains. Guilt washed over me. I was their queen. Even as I had pledged myself to Keir, I'd pledged myself to them as well. To lead them, protect them, to rule over them all.
I moaned, and started to sob all over again. I wanted to die. It would be so easy. I wanted Keir so badly, as Isdra had wanted Epor. I couldn't imagine life without him. I squeezed my eyes shut as the tears welled up and rolled down my cheeks. The blade was cold against the thin skin of my wrist. Except Isdra hadn't made her choice, had she? Gathering Storm had forced one on her, hadn't he. Arrogant bastard.
Anger cut through my pain and grief. The warrior-priests and that bastard Iften had done this. Killed my Warlord, destroyed his plans and dreams for his people. They'd tried to kill me, to make sure that my skills were lost. They'd isolate their people from new ways and new ideas to preserve their power and position, at the cost of their people's lives. They wouldn't truly lead. Not like my Keir has. Had.
My pain welled up again as I corrected myself.
But Keir's dream wasn't dead, so long as I lived. I frowned at the blade pressed against my skin. Reness had supported him, Osa had expressed interest. Even Liam might be looked to for support. And Xy needed me, needed Keir's dream, and a ruler who cared for her people. I stared at the blade. It would be so easy.
And so selfish.
I closed my eyes, and rocked as my grief returned. It would be so hard without Keir with me. Long days of pain and loneliness. I couldn't do this. It was too overwhelming.
So easy just to go.
I tried to wipe my nose on my sleeve. Besides, maybe Keir wanted me to join him. I puffed out a breath. Except he'd helped save me, hadn't he? I shivered at the memory of my Keir, all silver in the moonlight, riding so far behind me.
The knife trembled in my hand.
