Page 145 of Ashborne Forged

‘I believe, also.’

Yet, there had still been no sign—even for Koa who could stretch her mind far farther than I was capable… even she hadn’t sensed Kham, yet. But they would come. I didn’t know what had held them up so far. I only knew that gap in my chest that was shaped like Voski, ached, and simmered. He hadn’t abandoned me. I was certain.

I looked down at my hands, fingers twined in my skirts, and sighed, letting Breckon believe he was already on his way to destroying my hope.

I didn’t want to admit to myself, or to Koa, that I feared what would happen if Voski and Kham continued to be held up.

“What day is the wedding?” I asked, suddenly scrambling to count the days I’d been with him, and the travel, against his previous statements about the wedding and coming up unclear. Breckon looked surprised, but obviously couldn’t see any harm in my knowing, because he answered clearly.

“Eight days hence,” he said.

“Thank you,” I said calmly.

He nodded, but continued to watch me for a reaction. I didn’t let it register on my face, but for a moment it was hard to breathe.

Eight days. I had eight days to figure out how to make Breckon decide he didn’t want me, or… or I would have to find a way to kill him without any evidence I was behind it, whether Voski and Kham made it or not.

48. Homeward

~ GRACE ~

I knew the city that surrounded the Fyrehold Castle well. I had visited since my childhood. I knew its concentric rings, each level of the city a step up in both geography, and resource. The lowest streets, just inside the city walls, filled with inns and taverns, street vendors, prostitutes, and thieves.

And between each district, each level of humanity, a new wall. New guards. More wealth required before one was allowed in. Until we reached the Jewel District, just one ring below the center, the wall guarding the sprawling land on which the castle turrets soared, banners rippling higher than anything, bar a dragon’s flight.

The Jewel District could barely be called a city, full of grand estates owned by the most favored nobles. The walls and manors sprawled in the shadow of the throne’s presence, if not its structure, each separated by miles of fine lawns, manicured gardens, woods, thickets, and roads wide enough for grand carriages, or four horsemen, to ride abreast.

I’d loved this area when I was young—my parents had given me a great deal of freedom when we visited friends here, because there was little risk beyond poachers, who were far more interested in the king’s deer or pheasant than a young girl on a horse.

But as we drew out of the ever-widening streets, and through the final wall into the Crown District, even from a distance the loom of the castle set the tone. Everything grew virtually silent because there were no more streets, or industry, and my heart sank.

While we traveled alone, with only Breckon’s entourage of servants, the moment we entered the gate, those at the castle would know we were here. Messengers had been sent on winged feet the moment we rolled past the estates in the Jewel district, and now, glimpses would be caught on the road, by servants positioned in the towers specifically to watch for the approach of anyone on the ground.

My skin tightened with the peculiar tug I suffered every time I entered a room or building from which I couldn’t identify escape. We were still in the open air, but I knew every creak of the harness, every sway, every turn of those wheels took me closer to the cage I’d been trying to avoid since I was twelve years old.

Panic fluttered in my chest, but I stuffed it down. I’d been watched too carefully back at Breckon’s estate to have taken action. But now my time was short. And as the miles rolled under us and the castle approached, I knew I couldn’t step into that cage once more without some plan for escape.

But I despaired. Barring some coincidence of timing with the guards, or the arrival of Voski with his eerie ability to appear seemingly through walls, it was clear Breckon planned to keep me just as tightly controlled as he had back at the estate. The court would not help me. The women had never liked me, and the men didn’t want me. So, if the king took any true interest in this union, even those that might have been sympathetic would refuse to help.

No matter which way I looked, I saw myself being dragged up the aisle to the wedding that froze my lungs time, and time again.

I was beginning to shake. It couldn’t be hopeless! But I’d lost my blade and Voski and Kham were still too distant to reach.

Please, I begged God. Please. Don’t make me marry this monster.

My eyes had begun to blur, my throat pinching with frantic tears as each breath became harder and harder to take, because all I could see was myself dressed in a grand gown, surrounded by compassionless faces, bracketed by guards, and watched by the king, as I trudged up the aisle of the castle chapel.

In a fit of despair, I imagined throwing myself at the feet of the priest and begging for mercy, screaming that I’d been brought here against my will. In vivid detail, I conjured the gasps of the maliciously delighted court, and the scandalized queen, Breckon’s smug indifference. And then the tubby man of the cloth urging me to simply stand and take the vow like the obedient girl I’d always been. And I saw myself do it. I saw myself give the vow through trembling lips, and wet cheeks, and my heart sank to my toes, the sound of this life clanging into place like the locked prison door—when I saw it.

I stopped breathing completely for a moment, certain it couldn’t be so simple.

And yet…

It was.

There was only one path through this. And the priest of my imagination had been utterly correct. I blew out a breath as a reluctant, uneasy, hopefully brilliant plan emerged.

I had to let Breckon win first. Then I would take everything.