Page 126 of Empire of Flame and Thorns

I give my head a few short shakes, trying to push aside the strange feeling. Then I approach the bar.

“The mask is white,” I say as I catch the tavern keeper’s eye.

He starts in surprise at hearing the code phrase that we use to secretly identify ourselves as members of the resistance. Then he clears his throat. “And very hard to take off.”

I nod at the correct answer, which signals that he is a member of the resistance as well and that it’s safe to talk.

“I need this delivered,” I say, and slide an envelope across the scratched wooden counter.

Reaching out, he casually takes the envelope and slips it into his apron pocket before giving me a nod. “Consider it done.”

After nodding back in thanks, I turn around and walk back out again.

Since I don’t know who the leaders of the resistance are, I couldn’t just walk up to one of them and tell them that I have won the Atonement Trials. So I wrote that in the letter that will now be delivered to them instead. In it, I also suggested that they recruit Fenriel to our cause. Not only is he a genuinely kind person, he also has his hawk that can potentially fly out of the Seelie Court. And that could be the perfect way for me to relay information to the resistance leaders, and for them to tell me what they need me to do.

Brisk evening winds whirl between the crooked wooden buildings as I stride through town and towards a house closer to the northern wall.

Once I reach it, I stop in front of the door and draw in a few bracing breaths.

Nausea twists in my stomach.

Not once during the entire course of the trials have I been as nervous as I am right now. It’s ridiculous. But facing the two people in this house will always be worse than anything the dragon shifters can subject me to.

After dragging in one more breath, I raise my hand to knock. But then I stop. A short laugh escapes my chest. And instead, I simply push down the handle and walk right across the threshold.

“Hello,” I call as I walk into the house. “Dad? Mom?”

My parents scramble out of the kitchen. They stop, looking completely stunned, when they find me standing in the living room.

“Why didn’t you knock?” my mom blurts out.

I open my mouth but then just close it again. That’s her first question? The last time I saw them, I told them that I was entering the Atonement Trials. Now, they see me for the first time in weeks. And her first question is why I didn’t knock?

Blowing out a breath, I give my head a quick shake to clear it and then compose myself.

“I just came to tell you that I won the Atonement Trials,” I announce.

Shock pulses across their faces. I keep my chin raised and my spine straight as I bear their scrutiny.

“So that means that you’re leaving?” Mom eventually says.

Not even acongratulations. Orwell done. Or anything.

Blocking out the painful twist in my chest, I just nod. “Yes.”

“Good.”

My heart drops and a frustrated kind of disbelief crashes over me. “Don’t you mean goodluck?”

“Right.” She clears her throat. “Good luck.”

Pain bleeds from my heart as I stare at them. Then it all just boils over.

“Look,” I begin, my voice coming out all hurt and angry. “I know that I’m not the daughter you hoped for, but would it really kill you to just be proud of me for once in your lives?”

“Be proud of you?” Dad interjects. “What in Mabona’s name is there to be proud of?”

“All my adult life, I’ve done everything I can to please you. And yet, all you do is resent me. Why?—”

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