Matron is in charge of the palace serfs. Not much gets past her – she makes sure of that. Rewards for ratting outa fellow serf range from a fresh bedroll to an extra helping at supper, which many would do more than tell tales for. It’s not that they starve us. We have enough to eat. But that’s just it –enough, and no more. Meals are determined by our size and the nature of the labour we perform. Having inherited my mother’s slender frame, and given that I am – or rather,was– personal serf to an Heir – meaning my duties didn’t extend much beyond folding linen and braiding hair – my portions tend to make my plate look large. Of course, Hal slips me food whenever he can.
I thought I’d misheard Blaze the first time she offered to share her breakfast. Rather than feeling grateful, though, I felt guilty. She was kind, and undeserving of my deception. Yet Hal’s plan, however unfair, was the perfect distraction. Their involvement provided a subterfuge, and both of them had just the right touch of shyness to make it believable. But then Blaze started to fall for him, and so every smile we shared was a sharp twist of the knife. Only the knife was buried inherback, not mine.
Even still, she forgave me.
When I heard about the attack on Fire Mountain, my first thought was of her. But Hal has since received reports that the Storm Weaver was unharmed, and that she and her brother will soon be moved to a safe house. In just a few weeks, Blaze’s life has turned full circle. It doesn’t matter that she won the Aquatori crown – she’s just as confined as she has been for the last seventeen years. Trapped by circumstance, like me. Except now …
You could go home.
That’s what she said to me, and she was right.
After the Binding Ceremony, once he’d regained the ability to form a sentence, Hal, as the new emperor, offered me a ship, as much gold as I could carry, and said that if anyone tried to stop me, he would have them killed.
I am free, and yet, here I am.
There are three reasons why I chose to remain in Ostacre.
The first is that if I were to go home, I’m afraid of what I might find there. Or worse, what I might not find. When the slavers came ashore, they set my village aflame, snatching the children and slaughtering any who stood in their way. My parents are long dead. As for Astrid, she was put on board a different ship – only she never arrived in Ostacre with the rest of the serfs, meaning she didn’t survive the journey across the Second Sea. And without my family, there’s nothing left for me in Obsidia. Nothing but bones and memories.
The second is that I cannot bring myself to abandon Ingra and the others. I will never truly be free until they are too.
Hal always secretly intended to find a way to liberate the serfs, long before he met me. To do what his father did not, and undo what his grandfather did all those years ago. Sometimes I wonder how someone like him was ever born into a family likethat. Yet the timing of King Balen’s betrayal has thwarted Hal’s plans to end serfdom. His advisers will not hear of it. His reign is already being called into question. He has no one to support him.
Which brings me to my third reason …
I stroke my thumb along Hal’s forearm. His father is dead, his half-brother responsible, and his uncle is intent on takinghis throne. How can I leave him now, after everything? He is utterly lost. He needs me, and I …
Ilovehim.
I wish I didn’t. I tried not to. I hate myself for it. But I do.
What would the other serfs think of me if they found out about us? How could I even begin to defend myself? By telling them Hal is different? That he is good? Nothing I say would change the fact that he is their enemy. So what does that make me?
I’m so tangled up in my thoughts that I don’t notice the slight shift in his breathing, and I start as he whispers, ‘Can’t sleep?’
I shake my head.
‘Hm. Maybe I could read to you from one of my father’s old trading ledgers? That’d do the trick.’
Hal’s eyes are still closed, his voice husky with remnants of sleep. He’s not fully awake yet – I can tell because he’s smiling. I watch him remember, his smile faltering then falling, the weight of an empire crashing back down upon his shoulders.
‘Hal –’
‘I’m fine.’ Lie. ‘It’s fine.’ Another lie.
I don’t press him. I turn on to my side so that we’re face-to-face, and rest my hand on his cheek. Hal closes his eyes again, leaning into my touch. Even now, his features heavy with sleep and pain, he is beautiful.
I glance out of the window at the sky beginning to lighten. It won’t be long before dawn arrives.
‘I have to go soon.’
‘Don’t,’ he murmurs. ‘Stay.’
‘I can’t. You know that.’
A pause. ‘It won’t always be like this.’
‘I know,’ I say, though I don’t – not really. We are both of us changed. The future is uncertain. It scares me even more than the past.
