Knights protect the queen.
I close my eyes and hold onto that.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.
Chapter 32
Lance
She’s been in the guest room for an hour, and I haven’t moved from this chair.
The moon is high, casting silver sprinkles across the yard. No movement in the trees. No pale eyes watching from the shadows.
But the coil in my chest won’t loosen.
The threat’s over. No reason for anyone to watch her anymore.That’s what Art said, and it was clearly bullshit. So either he lied to my face, or he’s being played by people who have him in over his head, which has always been my biggest fear.
The friend in me wants to hope, but the realist needs no answer.
The floorboards creak behind me.
I don’t have to turn to know it’s her. The air changes when she’s around—a low static hum that reaches out and wraps around my ribs. I glance over my shoulder. She’s standing in the hallway, barefoot, still in my hoodie. Hair loose and messy like she’s been tossing and turning. Eyes wide in the dim light.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she says.
“Want some water? Tea?” I’m grasping for something normal. Something that doesn’t involve her standing in my living room in the middle of the night, wearing my clothes, and looking like mine.
She shakes her head and moves closer. “Why won’t you tell Juliette?”
“What?”
“She’s your sister, Lance. She loves you. She’s watching you drown, and you won’t throw her a reason why.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Then explain it to me.”
She sits on the arm of the couch.
“My father brokered the deal,” I blurt.
“What deal?”
“With Myrddin. About the fights. It was Art’s debt. His mistake. But my father’s the one who offered me up as payment.”
The silence that follows is so heavy I can hear Cavall breathing from across the room.
“He went to Myrddin and said, ‘Take my son. Let him fight it off.’ And everyone just knew I’d do it. That for Art, I’d pick up the sword. And I—” My throat closes. “I was glad to do it. I was eighteen and I was glad, because at least it meant I was useful. At least it meant I mattered to them, even if it was only as currency.”
“Lance.”
“He told me to never let anyone in the family find out. And the fucked-up thing?” I laugh, but there’s nothing in it. “It’s the only time I’ve ever agreed with my dad. Nobody should know what he allowed me to become. The things I’ve done.”
“They’d understand. Your sister? She’d understand.”
“I’ve killed people, Genevieve.”
She doesn’t respond. Doesn’t change her features. Doesn’t flinch. Like it doesn’t change what she sees when she looks at me.
