Page 66 of The Enemy's Daughter

“It’s important we exhaust every nonviolent option,” Farron says calmly over the agitated crowd. “If supplies are what they’re after, we owe it to our fallen and the lives we will save to negotiate a trade. We have excess. We can afford to share.”

Share? Is he saying they’ve tried to trade with us? Tried to help us? “Then why didn’t that happen?” I ask.

“Because the Saraf is convinced we’re the enemy. He doesn’t trust a truce, so he’d much rather attack and take.”

I want to argue, but I see now how Tristan’s accounting of our history carries more weight than mine. He’s an elite guardand Kingsland’s acting mayor. He’s Farron Banks’s son. When Kingsland’s military and politics were discussed at the highest level, he was there. But as a woman in the clans, I wasn’t allowed in the room.

I fall against Tristan’s chest, and his arms surround me.

Is it possible Kingsland is really innocent? The sound of a rushing wind fills my ears.

“I’m sorry, Isadora,” he whispers. “You needed to know the truth. Your father is the aggressor. It’s always been that way.”

21

Tristan sits beside me in the hallway, letting me work through my broken heart. I sense he’s trying to siphon some of my misery—though I remain overwhelmed with anger. Fear. Shame. It feels like there’s no painful emotion not pelting me, and every one feels justified.

No longer can I blame Kingsland for our violent history, or for shutting us out and protecting what they have. What else are they supposed to do when constantly attacked? We’ve tested the limits of their grace time and time again.

I wipe my eyes, distraught that it’s been decades of us trying to steal from them. Decades of us attacking them. All because we thought they were the monsters hurting us. We’ve been lashing out at the wrong people for someone else’s crimes.

The only thing giving me hope is knowing what these revelations could mean for our future. For peace. If the clans and Kingsland finally learned the truth about each other, that it’s all been a giant misunderstanding, could that end this conflict?

The biggest challenge would be convincing Father. In the clans,women have no place in politics, and even if they make an exception for my testimony, I only have Tristan’s word and memories to offer as proof. I can hardly hand over the papers I stole from Farron’s office. They’d only build the case that Kingsland is a threat.

Slowly, I drag my gaze to Tristan. His profile could be a painting. A beautiful boy waiting patiently for a girl. I hold out my hand, and he takes it, our fingers weaving together. The simple touch tightens the connection pleasurably between us, and with it comes the biggest epiphany yet: if I go home, even just to explain any of this to Father, I’ll be wed to Liam, which will only unify the clans for the purpose of attacking Kingsland.

It’s astounding to think it, but to help stop a war, I need to stay here.

Skies. My betrothal to Liam is over.

I feel awful at the tension that leaves my body. The relief. But then I remember that I never asked to marry Liam, nor he me, and now the shame over failing to reserve my heart for him can finally end. All I can hope for is that he understands. That he sees this as an opportunity for him to find love, because he deserves it.

We both do.

I stare at our clasped hands. “You know, I’d really like to trust you, but there is something holding me back.”

A wrinkle forms between his brows.

“When I caught you in the forest, that wasn’t the first time you’d seen me, was it?”

A wisp of his embarrassment wiggles into my chest.

“Show me.”

Tristan tips his head back, but a smile plays on his lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His words ring false, and he knows that. “Liar.” I fight a grin. “How many times have you watched my house?”

Tendrils of his worry that I’m upset drift over me like a puff of smoke. “You know, it was an assignment to watch your home, and Ryland, my cousin, did it just as often as me. We weren’t observing you specifically. Your fatheristhe Saraf.The Golden Calf.?”

“The Golden Calf?” I repeat.

“Yeah, it was my dad’s idea. All the important players in the clans have a code name.”

And I’m the White Rabbit. “How many times did you seeme?”

His eyes slowly roll to the ceiling. “Too many to recall.”

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