Page 233 of Mother of Death and Dawn

“I made so many mistakes, Brayan.” My voice cracked. “So many mistakes. Reshaye was so far outside my control, but I won’t pretend that I’m not at fault. That there weren’t a hundred different decisions I could have made that wouldn’t have put me in that room that day. You know what I wished more than anything?” I let out a rough laugh. “I spent years wishing that you had been there. Because I was certain you would have killed me before I could finish it.”

My father had hesitated when he saw it was me. Softened his blow to avoid killing his son.

Brayan would have done no such thing. I knew it then, and I knew it now.

“I made mistakes,” I said. “I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to atone for that, and I’ll fail, because there’s nothing I could ever do that would be worth their lives.”

Brayan was trembling, the muscle in his jaw feathering rapidly. He jerked his chin up, but despite himself, a tear rolled down his cheek.

“That isn’t enough.”

“No,” I agreed. “It isn’t. Nothing ever will be.”

He was still, his shoulders heaving, knuckles white around the hilt of his sword. I tensed, preparing for him to lunge at me again.

I wouldn’t even blame him if he did.

Instead he said, “You’re right. I would have killed you,” and slammed the door behind him.

CHAPTERNINETY-TWO

AEFE

Time passed in a blur. I curled up in the dark in the corner of Caduan’s bed. He lay beside me, his hand on my waist, and neither of us said anything at all. I did not realize we had fallen asleep until I was being jerked awake again.

“My King!My King!”

Luia sounded frantic. And yet, my consciousness returned so, so slowly. I questioned at first whether this was real, or a dream—everything seemed too soft and too sharp at once, my skin covered in goosebumps, the air acrid.

I forced my eyes open to see Luia on the bed, crouched over Caduan, shaking him.

My panic was sharp enough to cut through the unnatural haze in my mind. I jerked upright. Caduan’s head lolled back, limp even as Luia practically picked him up by his collar.

I did the only thing I could think to do. I slapped him across the face as hard as I could.

Luia, shocked, dropped him. He fell in a heap to the pillow. For several harrowing seconds, he still did not move.

“Caduan?” My voice shook. It came out softer than I expected, or maybe it just sounded that way, because my ears were ringing—why were my ears ringing? Why did everything feel so strange?

And then, at last, he opened his eyes. Awareness came to him slowly. And then, moments after it, came panic. His hand shot to his chest, clutching it.

Luia let out a shaky breath of relief. “Thank the gods. My King— Caduan, it’s—”

“What happened?” The words were ragged. His breathing was uneven. He pushed himself upright in an ungraceful lurch, hand still at his chest. “I— Something has—”

“Meajqa,” Luia choked out. She was near tears. “That drunk fool, he tried to do it alone— the prisoner—”

A terrible wave of dread crashed over me.

Before Luia could finish, Caduan staggered from the bed. “Stay here,” he commanded, but I was already standing too—only to find myself nearly tipping over, as if the whole world had been tilted sideways on its axis.

Luia caught my arm, her brow knotted. “What is wrong with you?Caduan—!”

She tried to stop Caduan, too, but he was already throwing open the door, half-running, half-stumbling down the hall. I followed him, catching up quickly enough to catch his arm and stabilize him—I felt dizzy and off-kilter, but at least I had my strength, while Caduan looked like his body was actively failing him. We swept through the halls, and I couldn’t even think to ask where we were going, until Caduan fell to his knees.

Nura’s cell was open. Meajqa, limp and bloody, was crumpled in a heap just within the door, surrounded by guards attempting to revive him.

The cell was empty.

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