Page 291 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

Kade sighed, and I found myself wondering whether that indifference was bred into these royals or trained. “And those who resist?”

“Never last more than a generation. Two at best. But you know that more than most, don’t you?”

Whatever blade the king had aimed struck true, judging by the way those bright aquas darkened.

“I fear our cousin has made up his mind,” Adrastos noted, but my attention was on the servant I’d watched lose color for the better part of an hour.

At last, she swayed, skin taking on a greenish cast before she set the carafe down on a table near the entryway.

My thighs clenched beneath the soft fabric of my dress as I fought to control my breathing. My posture. I dragged my focus back to the men at the table.

“You didn’t come here to cast your approval, did you, cousin?” Adrastos said, as though emphasizing the relationship would persuade him.

“No,” Kade said curtly, amusement a glimmer in his eyes. “It seems you don’t require sight to predict the obvious.”

“Human behavior is inherently predictable,” Adrastos countered. “But you weren’t hiding it, were you?”

“I’ve found erring on the side of honesty to be my best bet in these scenarios.”

“And what does that entail?” Moros asked smoothly, though after months of watching him, the irritation underneath was obvious.

“Protection,” Kade said simply. “Protection for my people. We intend to maintain our neutrality.”

“Neutrality?” Marlana purred, like a shih tzu with an underbite. Somehow she still looked elegant while speaking almost entirely through her teeth. Coy. “An archaic concept if there ever was one. The time for neutrality has ended. Calloway strengthens.”

“He does.”

“He will force you to heel if you have not resolved against him. Neutrality will not protect you from the prophecy of his return. Established loyalty will.”

“You have a plan to counter the young king’s command? Because at present, I’m trying to learn what I can to circumvent the loss of my people’s freedom.”

Moros smiled, sickly enough that for a moment I wondered if he, too, could transform into an enormous serpent. “The young Commander is no match for me,” he promised.

“Is that so?” Kade prodded. What, exactly, he was fishing for, I couldn’t tell.

Adrastos’ hand closed around my thigh beneath the table, hard enough to bruise, a beat before darkness swallowed the world.

A dark cupboard replaced it. My ears filled with the bellows and jeers of men.

A small girl, not yet six.

Only… I was the one rushing her inside. Shoving her behind clothes as my breath came faster. I was the one facing the monsters, casting spells and shields that did nothing to keep them at bay. Desperate to protect her—to hide her—I was the one pinned beneath mammoth hands.

The one whose dress was torn up my legs as I screamed and thrashed. Who retreated into my mind while fists beat me bloody.

Deeper and deeper into the ice as hands closed around my throat and the horror kept coming, filling sacred space with hatred, corrupting what was beautiful with violence.

Pain clamped around my thigh, anchoring me as my body began to tremble.

Even as a hand covered my mouth, cruel eyes locking on mine through a darker mask, the ache in my leg sharpened.

I focused there.

Closing my eyes did nothing to erase the horror in my mind, but the pain in my leg—the dull ache of strong fingers clenched around my knee—did.

Because the king could show me nightmares dragged from my darkest corners. But only I could lend them validity.

As the false room spun around me, my eyes fighting to track the flowers spiraling across the wallpaper, I left that body.