Sara Larson - Defy

Some said that Blevon, King Osgand’s kingdom, was dry and filled with peaks and canyons because he was cursed. They said a powerful sorcerer made the water sink deep into the earth, so they had to dig for it, just to stay alive. Papa had always said that wasn’t true, and I secretly agreed with him. Off to my right was the breeding house, which I avoided walking past at all costs. As I watched two of the king’s guards come out the door, laughing raucously, I had a hard time believing anyone could be more deserving of a curse than King Hector, and our land was verdant and full of water.

I had to stop, turn away, and press my fist to my belly to keep at bay the nausea that welled up into my throat, threatening to make me vomit as I thought of little Kalen in there somewhere, dreading the time when her monthly courses came and the attic was no longer safe for her. Across the courtyard, boys barely old enough to lift a sword were sparring, forced to join the army and die for a war that had no end in sight.

Avenging his wife’s death had sounded like a noble cause in the beginning, but after so much death, so much rape and horror and atrocity enacted in the name of helping Antion win the war, I couldn’t help but hate my own king as much as the enemy’s. No matter the outcome, there would be no true victors.

Tanoori’s words echoed in my mind and I squeezed my eyes shut. If there was a way to end this war — to stop King Hector — did I have the courage to try?

THAT NIGHT, RYLAN carried a cot into Damian’s outer chamber for me. Thunder rumbled through the palace as rain pelted the stone walls, echoing off the roof above us. The air was taut with the charged heat of the storm.

“Where do you want it, Alex?”

I pointed. “Just set it down next to his door. Hopefully, that will be close enough to appease Iker.” I couldn’t quite keep the irritation from my voice. I’d stood at attention outside Prince Damian’s door for hours, with no sound from within to give me any hint as to his activities, lightning and thunder my only companions.

The long silence had given me far too much time to think about Marcel and Tanoori. About my life before the army came into our village and took Marcel and me away. About the difference between training to fight and the reality of actually killing someone.

Or watching someone you love die.

The pain of Marcel’s loss washed over me and I stared at the cot, willing myself not to lose control. I balled my hands into fists, tried to hold back the sudden, consuming grief.

And soon Tanoori would die as well.

“Alex?” Rylan’s voice was concerned.

I clenched my jaw and, through sheer willpower, forced the emotion away. The tightness beneath the cage of my ribs receded enough to allow me to breathe without gasping and I looked up at him. “I can’t talk about it.”

He nodded and turned away, allowing me to pull myself together. “Do you need anything else?”

Taking a deep breath, I glanced around. The room was bare of anything I needed to wash with or prepare for bed. But that brought up the question of how I was to accomplish my toiletries without revealing myself. If anyone walked in while I was bathing — or if Prince Damian came out of his room …

“No,” I finally replied. I’d ring for a maid to bring me a bowl of water and a cloth. That would have to suffice.

He started to walk away, but I called out. “Rylan?”

Pausing, he looked back.

“The prisoner I questioned earlier … I haven’t been told. When have they scheduled her execution?”

“I haven’t heard, either. I’ll find out and let you know.”

“Thank you.”

Rylan looked at me for a moment longer, as though he wanted to say something more. Our eyes met and locked. For a moment, I wondered what would happen if he knew. If he stood across from me right now, knowing that I was a girl who had just lost her brother and been forced to move into the prince’s chambers — would he take me in his arms and wipe away the tears I’d been choking back all day?

My neck growing hot, I barked out, “That’s all, Rylan. What are you standing around staring at me for?”

“Sorry.” He shook his head slightly, a strange look crossing his face. Before I could try to guess his thoughts, he turned and walked out.

I exhaled sharply when the door shut and I sat down heavily on the cot. Marcel’s death was too much to handle. It was making me vulnerable, revealing the secret I’d spent years trying to cover up. I had to pull it together. I couldn’t allow myself to stare at Rylan like that ever again. My only hope was that he’d chalk it up to exhaustion and grief. He seemed concerned. He obviously knew I was more upset than I let on.

“Ah, my favorite guard, ready to do my every bidding.”

The prince’s voice startled me and I jumped up to attention again. “Your Highness, I apologize for my inattentiveness.” I bowed deeply, hoping he didn’t notice the wetness on my cheeks. How did he get the door open without a sound? And what did he mean by his “favorite guard”?

“Alex, rise and quit apologizing. As this is now your bedroom, I understand that you won’t be standing at attention at all times. Unless your strength and training extend even to the ability to resist sleep?”

I stood up and pressed my fist to my heart. Prince Damian was dressed only in pants, boots, and a loose-fitting white tunic, unlaced so that the top of his chest was exposed. A chest that was more muscular than I would have expected, considering the depths of his laziness. I’d never once seen him exercise or train with any sort of weapon. He did ride fairly often, but that wouldn’t have made a difference in his upper body. The analytical side of my mind wondered what he could possibly be doing — and when — to create muscle like that. As a member of his personal guard, I was unsettled to think that I didn’t know. But the other side of me — the feminine side — had to crush a sudden rush of butterflies in my stomach.

“Do you need anything, Your Highness?”

“Alex, I believe I’ve told you before that you need not address me so formally all the time. Especially now that we’re practically bedmates.” He gave me a sardonic look, one eyebrow lifted. I could have sworn he was suppressing a smirk.

My cheeks felt flushed, and I prayed that my olive skin hid my blush. A boy wouldn’t blush at that comment, would he? “Sir, I would never presume to treat you with any disrespect.”

Prince Damian sighed and passed a hand over his face. “Of course not. One must always treat the prince with the utmost deference.” He sounded frustrated — almost disappointed. After the last two days, I wasn’t sure it was just an act anymore, as I’d always believed.

Trying to hide my confusion, I asked, “What might I assist you with, sir?”

He turned and narrowed his gaze at me. “You seem like someone I can trust. Second only to the captain of my guard, a dedicated person, completely entrenched in duty.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. My heart beat faster beneath my ribs at the look on his face.

“If someone should happen to bring me a letter, I wish you to bring it straight to me. Do not open it or alert Nolen to its existence. Can I trust you with this?”

“Yes, sir,” I said again, more confused than ever. A secret letter? That’s why he came out to talk to me?

“Excellent.” The prince paused. “I want to trust you, Alex. I hope that I am making a good decision by asking this of you.” His eyes were piercing on mine, sending a sudden rush of heat through my limbs. “I’ve been told my whole life to trust no one. As a prince and heir to the throne, I’m to assume that everyone is an enemy. Do you think that is wise counsel? Do you think it foolish of me to put my trust in you?”