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I wasn’t used to someone going to such lengths for me, with such pure, undiluted ferocity. But I took one look at Anaria’s face, nearly as white as her hair, and knew she wasn’t here for her lesson.
“What’s happened?”
“Ember happened. The Reaper happened. Everything is falling apart, and I don’t know how to save her, Raz. I don’t think I can.” Her voice was so low I strained to hear.
“Is everyone…alive?” I hadn’t heard any rumors from the Keep, other than Crux was fucking someone new, but it took time for gossip to filter down to the slaves.
Even a Reaper slaughtering people in the halls of the Keep.
“So far. But she’s losing the battle. The Reaper has the upper hand and I can’t figure out how to get the godsdamned thing out of her. The only books in the library are about war, there’s hardly anything about the history of this place, or its monsters.”
“The Reapers aren’t from Solarys. It’s said they were created by the Old Gods, as punishment for Fae crimes.”
“I read that, too. I looked for books about Old Valarian, but there were none. What I wouldn’t give to be back at Ravenshade. At least the duke knew the importance of history.”
I gathered up the swords. “Let’s go to the practice yard. Most of the soldiers are out on maneuvers, we’ll have some privacy.”
She told me bits and pieces during the walk, while I corrected her fighting form, walked her through her first few combinations. She was right about the outfit. She moved smoother in these clothes, not hampered by the heavy skirt and tight bodice.
After an hour I shed my own jacket, nodding at her to do the same.
“I can’t.” Her pale eyes flicked up to mine. “I have the iron on. Someone might see.”
I’d forgotten. Forgotten she was more powerful than any of us, relying on iron to hold all the Fae magic inside her. “Have you tried using it again?” I asked softly, adjusting her stance slightly. “Since you were thrown from the horse and ended up in Tempeste?”
“No.” She relaxed beneath my hands and I stroked a finger down her neck, was rewarded with a quick bob of her throat. “Torin warned me against it, so did Zor. Besides, I have no wish to end up with the Oracle again. She’s a hateful creature.”
“She is.” I agreed, reaching for my weapon. “Come at me, Anaria, remember to lead with your right foot.” She did, slower than I would have liked, but her movements were graceful, and she did not hesitate.
She whirled to meet my every blow, little strength in her counter attack, but she didn’t miss a single one, and her foot work was impeccable. She fought with the kind of focus I’d only seen on battlefields, under tremendous odds, and realized…for Anaria, that’s exactly what this was.
She was under attack, surviving, the best she knew how, surrounded by powerful enemies, with no control over her future.
I knew the feeling.
Knew how such utter, complete helplessness ate you alive, until even the idea of freedom seemed too far away to even hope for.
“Very good.” She flushed, color staining her cheeks. “For only having two weeks to learn, you’ve done very well, Anaria.” I hated that Tavion put a single shred of doubt in her mind, that he’d caused her a second of uncertainty about her worth or her skill.
Anaria Centaria was meant to be treasured; she should be worshipped.
She should fucking bemine.
She was mine and I was hers, and never had a truth gleamed before me like this one.
A future. We could have a future together, if we dared.
Once the kingdoms were united and the war was over, we could have everything we’d ever dreamed of.
“I want to see you tonight.” I met her eyes steadily, willing her to say yes. “No. Ihaveto see you tonight. It’s been five days, and I’ve counted every second of them.”
Her eyes flared wide, her cheeks going pinker. “I’ve thought about you, Raziel. I can’t stop myself. It’s like my whole life…leads straight to you.”
A world without collars, or shackles or walls, that’s all I’d ever wanted. A world where I could be free and live out my days, however I wished. For a hundred years, I believed I’d spend those days alone.
But now…now I allowed myself to imagine something different.
“Let me ask around.” I knew my efforts wouldn’t change anything, but for Anaria, I’d try. “About Reapers. There are some slaves older than me, they might remember an old way to exorcise the creatures from their victims. Meet me at the back of the Keep at dark.”
