A Heart So Fierce and Broken (The Cursebreaker Series Book 2)

Mother strides into my room hours later. It’s late enough that I should be asleep, but I knew she would be coming, so I haven’t even dressed for bed. Her personal guard is with her, looking so fierce and punishing that I wonder if she’s going to have me killed right here in my chambers. I leap to my feet and back away before I realize what I’m doing.

“Mother,” I whisper.

Parrish’s blood stains her robes, and there’s a streak of it on her face, with more on her hands.

I have no doubt she’s aware of every stain, and she wore them here just for me.

“Do you seek to undermine me?” she demands. “Or is this simple envy for your sister?”

“It’s not—I’m not—Nolla Verin—”

“Do you have any idea what is at stake, Lia Mara?” she says. “Have you no consideration for how important this alliance is?”

“Yes.” I swallow. “I do.”

“Then explain to me why you would be wearing his clothing in front of every Royal House in the palace?”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry.”

She steps close to me. “You will make no further apologies. You will make no further mistakes. We have the heir, and the Royal Houses have pledged their funds. Tomorrow, I will seal an alliance with this man, and he will lead our people to claim his throne in Emberfall. You will remain here until then.”

She turns to leave, her robes swirling in her wake.

I rush to follow her, but her guards step in front of me, and I’m drawn up short. My heart pounds in my chest. Mother has never turned her guards against me.

Once they’re through the door, I cannot breathe. It latches heavily behind them.

My sister. I must speak with my sister.

I count to ten. To twenty. To one hundred. I count until my mother and her guards will be gone.

I fly to the door and throw it open. A guard swivels to block me. Instead of Bea and Conys, I find myself face-to-face with Parrish. His missing eye has been stitched closed. He’s pale but steady, a staff in his hand to bar my way.

I gasp and stumble back. “Parrish—Parrish, please. I have wanted to talk to you so badly—”

His voice is cold, not revealing even a glimpse of the guard who once shared a shred of humor with me. “The queen has ordered that you will not leave this room.”

This is the final blow. My mother has put him here as a reminder for me that my actions have consequences. That my actions have caused nothing but harm.

I’m staring the result right in the face. Parrish’s other eye is clouded with pain and anger and regret.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

He says nothing.

I have nothing to offer.

I reach out and close the door. I got just what I wanted: I’m alone in my room.