Page 171 of The Thief and the Traitor Bride

“Aren’t they friends with the Nestrian who tried to kill me?”

“They had nothing to do with that,” Nore said softly. “Terlo was really just here for research. If they’re in on an assassination plot, then I think we can all safely say we’re fucked.”

Locke peered at Nore through her fingers. “When I took you as my prisoner…” she said.

“You mean, when you tried to kill me?”

“Before that,” Locke said. “Your husband betrayed you. He gave your secrets to Kier.”

Nore inclined her head, acknowledging this. “I won’t deny it,” she said. “But we have so much heartbreak in our history.”

“Yet you forgave him. You came back.”

Nore shrugged. “Unfortunately, I love him enough to admit when he’s right. Now, at least.”

Locke was quiet for a long moment. “Kier is often right,” she said finally. “He is a much better person than I am. Caring. Less stubborn. Kinder.”

Nore couldn’t be certain Caspian was any of those things, but she nodded like she understood. Because in truth, Caspian was just as ruthless as Nore was, just as bitter, just as calculating, just as duplicitous. And gods if she didn’t love every second of it.

Nore had always chosen the knife at her back, the hand on her throat—and in all cases, that led to Cas.

“I have one thing to ask of you, though,” Nore said slowly, trying to piece her way through this.

Locke raised an eyebrow, imperious. “And what do I owe you, then?”

Nore shook her head. “You owe me nothing. But if you take me on, if you allow me to work for you in any capacity—you can bind me in whatever contract you like, and I will see it through. But whatever happens, Caspian goes free. If you want him to do a favor and he agrees, fine. But I ask that you refrain from enlisting him in your service in any true capacity.”

Locke narrowed her eyes. “You trust him so little?”

Nore bit her lip. “He has not been free for very long,” she said, “and it is my fault. I will not let him be yoked again for any desires other than his own. I can’t offer him much, but I can refrain from taking his freedom away again.”

Locke studied her for a long moment. Nore wasn’t certain what she found, nor what she was looking for. “Very well,” Locke said. “Whatever I agree to… Caspian will remain free. But if you wish to work for me, we will enter into a contract. And that includes this ritual, or whatever you think will help the magic.”

“So you’ll do it?”

Locke was quiet for a long moment. Nore watched the waves and not the High Lady’s face.

Finally, she sighed. “If it does no harm,” she said slowly, “and if it does not remove my power… then yes. I will try.”

It’s harder when you are the mother to a nation, when your deepest fears surround you and there is not a single thing you can do, even though it seems you hold the power to change the world around you. How helpless it feels sometimes. How lonely.

Note from Cleoc to Locke, 2.4.1636 UCE

thirty-six

THEY WALKED BACK TO the fortress together. It was an odd thing, to watch her shift back into the High Lady of the Isle, to see the way the guards folded around her the second she stepped through the walls of the fortress. Nore had walked with the duchess many times, both as a merchant and a spy, and she’d been in the presence of Queen Morenna on more than one occasion. There, she’d always felt the glamor and greatness, the polish as they were protected.

But there was also a sort of lazy grace to it. An insouciance—because what danger were they in, really?

There was none of that with Locke—but it was not out of a lack of greatness. Instead, her guard moved like a well-oiled machine, not like the guard of Queen Morenna, who had not been truly threatened in years. These guards eyed Nore suspiciously and tried to efficiently get between them until one word from Locke made them pause to let her through.

Nore kept walking, one step behind the High Lady in a show of deference, as she would her own queen. At the fortress gates, Locke’s guard folded around her—but none questioned Nore’s presence.

She kept a step behind Locke up two narrow sets of stairs and down a hall. At the end of the corridor, there was a shut, guarded door. Both guards went to a knee at the sight of Locke, then stood just as quickly. Nore did not let out a low whistle because she was very difficult to impress.

Even so.

“Commander Seward?” Locke asked, nodding to the door.