“You don’t have to,” Ivren replied cautiously. “You have nothing to prove.”
I raised a brow.
“You’re the Sweengard heir,” Ivren argued. “Rakkel, tell her.”
Rakkel was quiet.
“Rakkel?” Ivren demanded.
“They hate her,” Rakkel said slowly, offering me an apologetic grimace. “I’d say she might be the only one who has anything to prove.”
She was almost right. I hadeverythingto prove.
“I’ll take the top one,” I repeated. Turning to Viljan, I added, “You can come, but you cannot try to convince me not to do this.”
For once, he didn’t protest.
“Are you sure?” Ivren asked cautiously. “It’s dangerous, Elvara.”
“Being alive is dangerous,” I replied with a shrug.
Being me was dangerous. Every day here, I’d fought for my life. A jump from a waterfall didn’t sound too bad if it would get the karls off my back for a little.
I felt Viljan follow when I started walking up the hill.
With every step, I was becoming more certain of my decision. Not only in jumping, but in choosing Viljan as my second. In choosing Kilia as my third. I’d decide on a fourth by the end of the night, too, and when I did, I would have provided a legacy I could be proud of.
Viljan was the perfect second. He was strong. He was unyielding. He was loyal.
My iron-bound would respect him, even if they never could me. Kilia might hate me for what happened to his brother, but he was still a good person. Strong. Capable. Clever.
They’d treat my people well.
I smiled as the heat from Viljan’s body traveled across my back. Perhaps, somewhere deep down, my father had known that this—us being here instead of Lika and his guard—was a possibility.That I might have to betray those who should stand closest to me, so there would need to be someone who could easily take my place.
When I reached the top of the cliff, I was ready. Without looking down, I walked out on the hard stone, grateful that it was summer and dry. The ledge was still warm from the sun’s rays, ensuring my boots had a good grip, and when Viljan came to my side, I felt steady.
The stars winked at us across the velvet sky while my guard’s slow breaths surrounded me. As the stares of the hundreds of karls pinned me in place, their low voices bouncing over the water, I turned to Viljan, feeling as if I needed to explain—as if this might be the last time I could.
“Lika would have done it,” I whispered.
“He would,” Viljan agreed.
It was quiet for a few heavy seconds, and some of my resolve cracked at the tension seeping from my guard.
“Just say it,” I said.
Viljan shuffled his feet. “Lika would have done it. But you don’t have to. You’renot him.”
“You don’t have to remind me,” I snarled. “I know I am not him. I can never behim.”
I pressed a hand against the top of my chest.
“I won’t be welcomed into Valhalla when this is done, Viljan. What I’ve had to do? There is no warrior’s honor in that.” I stared out into the night, understanding why my mother had barely been able to look at me when we left. “I have lied. I have cheated. I have betrayed people. But you haven’t. You won’t have to. When I die, we can all rest assured that you’ll lead our people with everything I couldn’t: honor, duty, strength.”
Viljan dragged a hand over his long braids, moving them onto his back so they rested beside the two axes hanging there. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t fucking hear that.” His leathers squeaked as he turned to face me. “You might not be your brother.” Viljan lowered his voice. “But you have your own strength.There is honor in sacrifice, Vara. And you have sacrificed so much.”
I threw out my hands. “Look at the mess I’ve caused. Ivren knows about us. Kilia knows too. I fell for Ottoh’s trap the first day, and the king might well have killed me. I’ve nearly died several times from being attacked and during training.” I swallowed. “My mother was right. I am no leader, Viljan. But I’m all right with that. I realized I have another purpose, and I will fight until the last of my warmth is spent—until every drop of blood in my body has joined the sea, and the tide claims whatever is left—to ensure my father’s legacy lives on.”
