“Neither did I. Truth is, I was born with fire wielding, but I haven’t been able to use those powers since I was Sealed. So, this was … a bit of change, for me.”
Somehow my confession didn’t shock her—and it felt strangely unthreatening to make. Her lips twitched. “Fire and ice. I knew we were opposites.” Her hands squeezed mine. “You’re Ederyn, aren’t you? That’s why you don’t have a Bloodbinding mark.”
My breath went shallow.
“I’ve been thinking about it all night. You don’t have a mark. At first, I thought that maybe it meant you could be Viori too, but that doesn’t make sense. You’re Sealed. Only the king of Lirien can do that. The only other Unbound are Ederyn. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
She was too clever not to figure it out—what had I expected? I searched her eyes. “Who I was before I was Sealed … it’s not someone I want to remember right now.” Someone I couldn’t afford to think about. Not when it reminds me so much of all the family I’ve lost.
Despite her efforts, I sat and drew my legs up. The familiar bite of iron cinched my limbs again. I had a vague memory of being shackled when they threw me into the wagon. By then, I’d been in blinding pain, too far gone to care or focus on much. The image of boots stomping me remained at the fringe of my memory, each blow filled with utter hatred.
Unsteadily, I ran my hands through my unkempt hair, pushing it out of my eyes. “Did they hurt you?”
“No.” Seren’s eyes were wide and soulful. “But someone told the tribe about Giulia. That’s part of what motivated them.”
“Ciaran?” I asked sharply.
“I don’t know. He swears he didn’t, but I’m not sure if I can believe him.” She swallowed hard, as though the memory was painful. The tug of grief that spilled through the bond was sharp with betrayal. “How did you keep me from feeling them beat you?”
Gods knew I’d used every ounce of concentration to block her from feeling the pain I’d felt. Maybe Lucia had known I’d need that skill the most. Blocking her out hadn’t been easy, but I’d done it, just as I had so many times in the forest the last few days under Lucia’s tutelage. “The same way I knew how to access your powers. I’ll do my best to show you, if I can.”
“You didn’t have to do that?—”
“They would have hurt you, Seren. And they’re taking us to fight for our lives. But even if that wasn’t the case, I’ll always choose getting hurt if it spares you. I’d do it again. Every time.”
“I know.” Her eyes shimmered. “And I know you mean it. You’ve proven it. But … why? You didn’t even know me the first time you did it. Why keep putting yourself in harm’s way? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were punishing yourself.”
My father’s voice was a crescendo in my head. “You’re lazy and spoiled …”
I shook the memory away. Her words dug deep at something I didn’t want to think about. “I don’t have a death wish if that’s what you’re asking. But I’m starting to believe the king wasn’t so crazy in forbidding Liriens from going into the Dreadwood. Hasn’t worked out so well for me since I set foot inside.”
She cracked a small smile, then sat back on her heels. “You can’t make light of everything, you know.”
“Can’t I? I find that—and drinking—to be perfectly acceptable solutions to most problems.”
“Well, you’re lucky. In more ways than one. I’m still shocked that Seth, of all people, protected you back there. Especially after you insulted him earlier by forfeiting that fight.” She gave me a curious look. “Speaking of which, why did you forfeit? You would have won.”
I could lie. Make something convenient. But this didn’t seem worth the effort. “He had my sword. And that sword would have killed me.”
She frowned. “What?”
“The sword.” I puffed out a short breath. “It’s cursed with magic. Every time it’s used, it kills. That rarely works out favorably for the person it’s wielded against. I only use it if I have no other choice. I had another one I favored, but I lost it in the forest. But I wasn’t about to fight Seth while he had my cursed blade.”
She blinked at me, as though considering whether my admission was too ludicrous to be a lie. Then she murmured, “Thank you for telling me.”
I looked down at my hands, wishing I could tell her more. But it wasn’t possible.
The rudimentary splints she’d set came from twigs and strips of cloth—the missing shirt under her vest told me the source. It also called extra attention to the curves of her breasts against the leather.
“You’re not cold?” I asked, my mouth curving. Any lingering on her breasts wouldn’t help right now.
She followed my gaze and smirked. “I didn’t have many options. We left in a rush and I climbed into the wagon with you. Mother and Tara are bringing my things and Amahle is following the wagon on horseback. She has my bag. Tara had to pack up all our belongings herself—Mother was too busy with the wounded. Hopefully my father and brother will know to find us in Emberstone.”
Her worry pressed through the bond, deepening my own unease over Brogan and Madoc. Why do the Ragnall women speak of them so little? Their absence felt like a wound no one wanted to acknowledge.
I shifted over and peered out of the bars. A long line of wagons and carts stretched ahead, winding up toward the mountains.
Permanent villages, built of stone rather than tents, flanked the main road to the city in the mountain, dense with citizens.
