A Vow So Bold and Deadly (The Cursebreaker Series Book 3)

Snow falls overnight, blanketing the training fields in a thin layer of white, turning the forest beyond into a sparkling array of ice-coated trees. The windows of my chambers are cornered with crystals and frost. These early season snows never last long once the sun rises, but when I was a young girl, I loved waking in the morning to discover my entire world had changed overnight.

Grey retired late, climbing into bed after I’d fallen asleep, but he’s up before the sun anyway, fully dressed and armed before I’m even aware he’s awake. I roll over in time to watch him buckle a heavy cloak into place.

He meets my eyes, and the warmth in his smile melts my heart, because I know it’s a smile he only shares with me. “I meant to let you sleep,” he says quietly. “I will return at midday.”

“No breakfast?” I say.

He pulls on fingerless gloves and ducks to drop a kiss on my lips. “Jake and I are going to eat with the soldiers.”

“Wait—you are?”

“Yes.” He pauses in the doorway, looking ready to fight a war this very instant, while I’m still blinking sleep out of my eyes. “Clanna Sun and Nolla Verin will see you in the strategy room when you’re ready. They intercepted two messages regarding this anti-magic faction. They would like to double the number of guards at the city gates. I agree. And many of the generals believe we should send another small company through the mountain pass.”

I’m not awake enough to process this. I certainly don’t feel very queenly. “I—what?”

“We’ve received word that Rhen has moved soldiers into position. Once you make a decision, have word sent to the fields. If you choose to send soldiers, I will speak to the captains about who is best suited.”

“But—”

He’s already gone. I rub at my eyes and glance at the frosty window. He’s dining with the soldiers? Maybe my world really did change overnight.

Nolla Verin must grow tired of waiting, because she raps on my door before I’ve finished dressing, and I tell the guards to let her in. She looks irate and impatient, and she’s as trussed up in leather and weapons as Grey was. I’m surprised she doesn’t stamp her foot when the door falls closed behind her.

“That foolish prince has already sent a regiment to the border,” she says. “And you are not even dressed?”

It’s so silly and juvenile, but her manner is so extreme that it makes me want to slow my preparations. I dip my finger in a pot of scented cream, then dab it on my neck. “That foolish prince is likely responding to the regiment we stationed on the other side of the mountains. Tell me about the messages you intercepted.”

“Those have already been dealt with. You’re welcome. In regards to the army, I have spoken with Clanna Sun and the generals,” she says. “We will send two companies through the pass to station them north of—”

“Wait. Stop.” I turn and look at her. For as supported as Grey makes me feel, Nolla Verin always makes me second-guess myself. Even the way he shared this news is completely at odds with the way my sister stormed in here. When you’re ready. Once you make a decision. If you choose. He never attempts to wrestle control from me, which is always fascinating because I’d likely yield to him without hesitation. “What did you deal with?”

“The messages,” she says with feigned patience, as if I’m too slow to keep up. “This faction seems to be making an attempt to organize another attempt on your life, but Ellia Maya has replaced the messages with new ones that will lead them right to our guards.”

A chill grips my spine, doubly cold due to the callous way she imparts this information. “And …” I have to clear my throat. “What did you do with the army?”

“I sent word that we will send two companies through the pass,” she says. “One will support the soldiers already stationed there, and one will begin a clandestine assault on the smaller towns, so we can prevent word from spreading. If we can form a circle around his regiment, we can cut off their supply chain and destroy them before they can mount a defense.”

“Stop.” I’m staring at her. It’s one thing to stop an attempt on my life, but entirely another when it comes to commanding my army. “Nolla Verin, we gave Emberfall sixty days, and their limit has not expired. I will not begin slaughtering their people just to gain an advantage.”

She gapes at me like I’ve started speaking another language. “You do not want to gain an advantage? Sister, this is war.”

The censure in her voice is chilling. “It’s not war yet,” I snap.

“You always naively wish for peace,” she says harshly, “while war threatens to destroy everything around you. Prince Rhen has already sent soldiers to the border. He is already preparing to—”

“Have his soldiers engaged with ours?”

“No, but that means nothing.”

I step away from my dressing table. “It means everything!”

“You wish to honor the timeline you offered, when he is clearly not?”

“He is preparing for war, just as we are.” I glare at her. “I will not go back on my word.”

“Your word.” She scoffs. “You do recall that the man took you prisoner? That he killed Sorra? That he refused any attempt at alliance?”

Her words hit me like a slap. I do remember all those things.

Nolla Verin sees me flinch, and she moves closer.

“There are rumors,” she says quietly. “That Grey will destroy us from within—”

I whip my head up. “He will not.”

“I know he will not,” she says, but there’s something about the way she says it that makes me wonder if she’s fallen prey to these rumors, too. I wonder just how broadly this faction against magic has begun to sink its claws into my country. “But your people will be less likely to believe these rumors if you take decisive action against Rhen’s forces. If Grey is seen as following your order, not using his power against our soldiers.”

I study her. Outside my window, the sun crawls its way up from the horizon, and the icicles that formed overnight have begun an incessant drip-drip-drip against the stone of my sill.

When I say nothing, Nolla Verin sighs, and some of the fierceness seeps out of her expression. She tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “We are going to destroy his soldiers anyway,” she says softly. “What is a matter of days if it prevents us from losing our own?”

I swallow. I wish Grey were here. I long for his cool, assessing judgment.

The instant I have the thought, I regret it. The decisions here are mine. I am queen. Just because I do not want to think of destroying soldiers—neither his nor ours—does not mean it will not happen. And perhaps she is right, and we should take decisive action to gain an advantage.

I remember riding through the hills of Emberfall, looking on the devastation we’d already brought to the country. I wanted peace then, and I want it now, but I failed. Twice. The first time because Rhen did not trust my offer, and the second time because he did not wish to come to terms when we offered him sixty days. I don’t want to fail a third time. Nolla Verin is right: we should take any advantage we can.

But war doesn’t bring peace to anyone. And even though Rhen did not trust me, that does not mean that my offer of an alliance wasn’t sound. If I want to rule with temperance and civility, my first true action as queen should not be a betrayal of something I offered another ruler.

“We will wait out our remaining few days,” I say. “We will not send another company.”

Nolla Verin looks like I punched her in the stomach. “Did you not hear that Prince Rhen has sent a full regiment to the border?”

“Yes. Because we did.”

“He sent a thousand soldiers—”

“They are within his borders, Nolla Verin! He is allowed to prepare for war!”

“Because you gave him ample warning,” she says. “Because you want to be kind, and you want to be loved, and you want to be—”

“No, sister,” I snap. Somehow I refrain from slapping her across the face, which would definitely make her question these accusations of kindness. “Because I want to be fair and I want to be just, and I want the best for my people and his.”

She takes another step closer to me. “You are not fair and just. You are weak and easily led. Your people do not want you, just like Rhen’s people do not want him.”

“You think that the only way to achieve anything is with a blade in your hand,” I say. “And it is not.”

“It is,” she insists. “You would not be queen if you’d not learned that very lesson yourself.”

Her words shock me still. Because I killed our mother. The only reason I even have this role is because I did exactly what she said. I took this role by the edge of a blade—our very law requires that the role of queen be taken by violence. How could I have ever thought I could rule Syhl Shallow with anything less?

“You know,” she says, and her voice is low, and not unkind. “You know what must be done.”

She’s so fierce and beautiful and unyielding and determined. I’ve never envied her any of those things, though. I once thought she would make a great queen.

But she could never stand up to our mother. She never would have made an attempt at peace.

“It is not what must be done,” I say quietly. “It is what you think must be done. I will stand by my word.”

Her eyes are like fire, and she glares at me steadily. “You are wrong. And you are too late anyway. I have already sent the order to the fields.”

“You will rescind that order,” I snap.

“I will not.”

My hands form fists. “You are not queen, Nolla Verin.”

“Well, at least I’m acting like one.”

I suck in a breath. “No, you are not. You are acting like a girl who has forgotten who is. You will rescind that order, or you will have to pull your dagger and claim the throne yourself.”

Her eyes flare wide. She takes a step back.

But then, for one wicked second, she thinks about it. I can see the thought flicker through her eyes. Her hand twitches toward her weapons. In that one second, my heart seems to stop. To wait.

Months ago, our mother sent her to fetch me, as part of a trial to prove her loyalty. Nolla Verin couldn’t do it.

But that was different. Then, she was still destined to be queen, and she didn’t need to kill me to prove it.

Right now, she’d have to. This tension hangs between us until I almost can’t breathe around it.

Finally, an eternity later, she sighs and grits her teeth. Her hands relax at her sides. “No. I will not claim the throne.” She squares her shoulders. “But I will not rescind the order, either.”

My heart resumes beating, and I have to take a breath. For the first time, I realize that no matter how close we are, and how much we’ve endured together, there is still a part of her that sees me as weak, a queen who will need someone to handle the more … unsavory parts of ruling. Instead of seeing my alliance with Grey as a boon to our militaristic forces, maybe she—and everyone else—has seen that as a flinching on my part.

A literal flinching, as I remember the way I stood on the training fields.

Maybe it’s time to change that.

“Fine.” I turn away from her and head into my closet, reaching for my boots. “If you won’t rescind the order, then I will.”

The sky is full of clouds, leaving the air cold and damp as I stride across the fields. Since I was in a pique, I only threw on a light cloak, and I’m already regretting it. Nolla Verin is right on my heels, and she hasn’t stopped trying to convince me that I’m making a mistake. In my chambers, she was so forceful and determined, but now she’s speaking in a constant stream of whispers at my shoulder, her angry breath making quick clouds in the air.

“This is reckless and irresponsible,” she hisses. “Rhen’s army will have the advantage.”

I ignore her and keep walking.

“You will look like a fool,” she says. “Grey will agree with me. You will see.”

I say nothing.

“Your officers already think you are weak,” she continues, “and now you are going to change course on an order that was issued half an hour ago.”

“An order you gave,” I snap, but there’s a tiny, bothersome needle of doubt that keeps poking me in the back. It will look weak to have such a forceful order issued—and to then walk it back. But that’s her fault, not mine.

That needle of doubt tells me it won’t matter, that weakness is weakness.

It’s a weakness that these assassination attempts seem to emphasize as well. Too much is uncertain. Even among those who are loyal to me, magic is still distrusted. Grey is still distrusted. My steps almost falter.

But we draw close to the sparring soldiers, and I realize many of them have gathered to watch a match near the center of the field. It takes me a moment to recognize Grey, because it’s so rare that I’m on the field to see him fight. He’s so gentle and patient with me that I’ve forgotten he can be so fierce, so focused, so relentless. Their swords spin in the dim sunlight, cracking together with such force that it makes me flinch from here. The snow under their boots has turned to muddy slush, but neither of the men seems to be fighting for footing. The battle looks effortless and lethal. Downright vicious.

I don’t realize I’ve stopped until Nolla Verin speaks at my shoulder. “You see. He will agree with me. This army will agree with me.”

The needle of doubt pokes me again.

Grey’s opponent is that soldier he ordered to fight over and over again, Captain Solt. Is this a real battle? Are they fighting in earnest?

I stride forward again. The soldiers part as we approach, bowing as I stride among them, but my eyes are on the fight. My stomach churns as I think of all the ways the army could take these small struggles.

Solt makes a move, but Grey ducks and surges forward. For the first time, Solt loses his footing and goes down, skidding through the mud and snow. At my shoulder, Nolla Verin sucks in a breath. I expect Grey to drive his blade right through the fallen man’s body.

But he doesn’t. He sheathes his sword. He holds out a hand. He’s smiling.

Solt takes his hand and pulls himself to his feet. He’s smiling, too. “You are too quick, Your Highness.”

“I’m lucky.” Grey shakes out his arm. “You strike like a hammer.”

“You’re both lucky,” says Jake, standing off to the side. “I thought someone was going to lose a hand.”

I lose a moment to staring. I’m not sure what just happened here.

Solt notices me first, and he straightens and sobers immediately. “Your Majesty.”

Grey turns, and some of that vicious focus shifts to warmth when he meets my eyes. It’s such an intent look, such a private look, that I feel a blush crawling up my neck already. When he says “Your Majesty,” it makes me shiver.

I watch as his eyes take me in, then my surely fuming sister at my shoulder, then the guards that trail us. He looks to a squire standing nearby, then steps over and claims the cloak he must have abandoned before the fight. I expect him to draw it around his own shoulders, but I forgot the customs he brings from Emberfall, so I’m startled when he draws it around me. My blush fades. I see exchanged glances among the soldiers, and I wonder if this, too, will be seen as a weakness.

“Are you well?” he says, his voice very low.

“I am well.” I pause. “I understand my sister issued an order to have a company sent through the mountain pass.”

“We received word of Nolla Verin’s intent,” Grey says.

Of course he did. It hasn’t been long, but Grey doesn’t hesitate. He probably already sent women and men to the mountain pass.

Then he adds, “I told the captains we will have soldiers readied, but we would wait for the order to come from the queen herself.”

I stare at him. I want to throw my arms around his neck. I want to burst into tears.

Neither of those options is queenly. I nod, but my voice feels breathy. “Good. I would like to wait until we have reached the end of our promised time.”

“This is foolhardy!” Nolla Verin explodes. “You have an opportunity to take advantage, and you will waste it.”

Grey looks at her, and his eyes are cool and hard like steel. “So you believe we need to cheat? Do you doubt the strength and ability of our army?”

That draws her up short. I watch as soldiers exchange glances again.

Our army. Such simple words, tacked into a simple sentence, but I can feel the weight of them as they reverberate through the soldiers who heard them, repeated in whispers among the others. Nolla Verin has fought among them for years. Many of them assumed she would be in my place.

But she’s not. I am queen here, and she’s the one who told me I had to fight for myself. Maybe she doesn’t realize it, but she’s the one forcing me to take a stand: not assassins, not Grey, not my people. My sister.

“Do you believe you have the right to countermand your queen?” I say, and the whispers grow in volume.

“Nayah,” snaps Solt, and the soldiers jump to attention. Silence falls over the fields.

Nolla Verin is still staring at me. Rain, cold and heavy, begins to drop from the sky.

Suddenly, I realize she’s not the one I owe words to. She’s not the one I need to convince. I look at the soldiers. “I do not doubt my army,” I call in Syssalah. “I do not doubt your ability. I do not doubt your loyalty. I do not doubt your strength. I ask that you do not doubt mine. We are Syhl Shallow.” I take a deep breath and shout into the rain. “We have magic on our side, and we will rise, and we will be victorious.”

For the briefest second, there’s absolute silence, so much potential riding on the air. I’m not sure what happened between Grey and Captain Solt, but it brought us halfway to this point. I have to bring us the rest of the way, and I’m not sure if this is enough.

But then Solt drops to a knee. “Syhl Shallow will rise,” he echoes fiercely. “We have magic on our side.” He hits a fist to his chest. “Syhl Shallow will be victorious.”

At his back, row by row, hundreds of soldiers do the same, falling to a knee in the rain on a muddy field. For the first time, all eyes are on me, not my sister.

My sister, who takes a deep breath, then drops to a knee herself. “Syhl Shallow will rise,” she says, and despite everything, there’s conviction in her voice. “We have magic on our side. Syhl Shallow will be victorious.”

Grey steps closer to me and takes my hand. “Our strength,” he says softly.

I nod up at him. A small flame has started to burn in my chest, and it’s not love, because that’s been brewing there for a while, and it’s not doubt, because that’s been pounded into submission. Instead, it’s hope. I squeeze his hand.

Far across the field, near the road that leads away from the palace, a horn blares. The sound is loud and carries through the rain, and a hundred heads swivel to look. It’s an announcement of approaching scouts, but it’s uncommon for it to happen at midday. Then I hear galloping hoofbeats, and I look at Grey. It’s doubly uncommon for them to return at high speed.

Something must have happened in Emberfall. Some change that requires urgent attention. Our reports said Rhen had stationed a regiment near the pass, and I assumed it was to prevent ours from moving forward.

But maybe it was intended to mount an assault against us.

Grey looks at Solt. “Have them get back into formation. Tell the other captains to be ready for new orders.”

My heart is in my throat. I just made a vow to these soldiers, and now it’s my chance to keep it. I look at Nolla Verin. “I want to meet with the generals. Find Clanna Sun and have her report to the fields at once.”

She nods quickly. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

The scouts cross the fields, their horses skidding to a stop in front of us, spraying slush and mud and blowing steam into the cold air. The animals are winded and slick with sweat and rain.

One of the scouts slips out of the saddle and offers me a clumsy, breathless bow. “Your Majesty,” she says in Syssalah. “Captain Sen Domo is holding a prisoner at the guard station.”

“A prisoner?” says Grey.

“Yes,” says the scout. She’s speaking rapidly, gasping between sentences. “She rode straight into the army camp. She has made many demands, including that she be allowed to see the queen. At first they believed she was addled, because she was quite injured, but she would not deviate from her story that Prince Rhen has been hurt, his guards and soldiers slaughtered.”

I gasp.

“What?” says Jake. “I only caught like half of that.”

Grey’s brow is furrowed, too. “Prince Rhen is injured?”

“His guards and soldiers killed, too,” I say. I look at the scout. “His regiment?”

“Still stands,” she says. “They seem … unaware. Our soldiers did not engage.” She pauses. “They don’t know where she came from.”

“Is she a soldier?” says Jake.

“Or a spy?” says Grey.

“Neither, Your Highness.” The scout finally catches her breath. “She claims to be Prince Rhen’s beloved, Princess Harper of Disi.”