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I took another breath before turning. I stormed toward him, deliberately ignoring him and grabbing hold of the doorknob and pushing before he could pretend to be gallant.

“Pull,” said Beric, and I was bound to pass out from how hot my face was getting.

“Yes, I have it,” I snapped, though I clearly didn’t. And to make matters worse, when I pulled, it barely budged—the door was heavier than I’d thought.

Beric’s hand was suddenly on top of mine, and it was like my blush consumed my whole body as his strong fingers wrapped around mine and … removed my hand from the knob. All the joyous sound and light from court poured in as he opened the door wide.

He looked down at me as I took a moment to gather myself after his touch, and I could swear his gaze was colder than ever.

“Are you always this stubborn?” he asked, quietly.

And I was too mortified to answer as I rushed out of the dark room.

CHAPTER11BERIC

The navy dress had been a good idea … in theory.

To deter the king? It worked exactly as I thought it would, which should’ve been all that mattered. But somehow Cali had shown up looking far more alluring than I’d anticipated. I mean, my God. She was beautiful. So effortlessly pretty, she could apparently look good in anything. The men at court had been practically drooling over her. And after that performance she’d put on, I had no doubt she’d undone all the work I’d put in to keep them away.

I thought I’d understood this game after ten years, but Cali had waltzed in and changed the rules right from under me.

There was no point in rejoining the festivities. I should’ve, if only to watch over the armor and make sure it was returned in one piece. But I supposed court wasn’t exactly the same as battle, and Cali had more than enough company—company she actually cared for.

My disappointment in my new knight was quickly shifting to regret. That was my punishment, perhaps, for selecting a knight on perceived traits I wanted. On selfishness. The important thing was that she could perform her duties and that the king didn’t like her too much. I should have been happy I’d managed to secure this much. But still, something in me felt crushed. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could go on with yet another knight who hated my very presence.

She was showing her true colors now, proving what I’d always known—that there were no truly good knights in this world.

She was better than Vi, at least. Well, anyone was better than Vi—even the king, I’d argue, since he was easily controlled. And yet, I was certain it was only honor and pride in my position that kept me from simply handing it over to her vile cousin. I would sooner cut out my own tongue than let that horrid woman ruin all I’d done with her inferior work.

I sighed.

You picked her, Beric. Time to live with your decision.

I needed to think of the wedding, anyway. I had to make sure the gold armor was prepped, that my mare’s mane was braided in the traditional fashion. And who knew the last time that chariot had been used—better to make sure the wheels were functional now than leave it for the morning.

Or maybe this was all just an excuse to get away.

The stable keepers would take care of Ivy and see to the chariot. And the armor was ready. I made sure it was always ready.

I’d planned to go to the abbey to pray, but I was feeling too bitter at the moment to expect that prayer would ever be accepted. Besides, it sounded like rain had begun and I was in no mood.

Also an excuse, Beric.

Instead, I entered the same secret door the king had and headed down the back halls.

Tomorrow. Focus on tomorrow.

If I could relate to the king in any way, it was that I hated change as much as he did. My life had mostly been unpleasant, but at least it was familiar. Constant. I understood it better than navigating what my life would look like with a new knight.

I found myself at the door of Vi’s old room. My legs had taken me there without thought, to the place my mind knew meant no amount of good for me. Habit, I suppose.

All I remembered about her journal was that I had given it to her as a gift on my first day—and she’d hated it. I hadn’t thought of it since, not until Cali inquired. And now, well, I didn’t know. I didn’t even like the woman, despite my best efforts. She made sure I never would. But curiosity was a powerful, dangerous thing.

And her journal, if it was even there, was a part of history now too, wasn’t it? Ten years’ worth of history.

I opened the door. All the essentials had been moved to the guest quarters where Cali was. It felt haunted, the bed stripped, the wardrobes bare. Not even the rug or candles had been left.

Perhaps there was no point in looking for the journal—if it had been here, instead of disposed of the day that I’d given it to Vi, it would’ve been moved along with everything else.