Page 54 of The Enemy's Daughter

“I swear,” he says without hesitation.

I stare in amazement. There’s no dissonance to his words or conflict echoing in my chest. He’s telling the truth. My relief is so strong, I’m tempted to thank him. Instead, I push for more. “Whatever you’re planning, whatever justice looks like to you, know that you can’t kill the people I love—like my father—without killing a part of me. You know what I’m talking about.You’re already living with that type of pain.”

He looks thoughtful.

Yes.I’m getting somewhere. He’s listening to me.

But then he inches closer as if to speak into my ear. His clean scent drifts over my face, and it might be the most intoxicating fragrance I’ve ever smelled. My eyes close. Then one of his memories begins to play out in my mind. A building is burning by a river. People are screaming. I watch as my father shoots a flaming arrow over a metal fence.

I gasp.

Tristan’s anger rises so sharply it feels like it grabs me by the throat. “And do you understand that while we will not intentionally murder innocent people, your father will?”

I pull back just far enough to see his face.

“Tristan.” It’s Annette. “Samuel needs you in the war room.”

He doesn’t break our stare to acknowledge her.

“It’s urgent,” she says. “Something about a water main.”

He finally backs up a step. Then seems to wordlessly ask if I’m okay to be left alone.

I nod, because I actually do need to speak with Annette.

“Well,” Annette mutters as he leaves the kitchen, “you two are looking cozy.”

I exhale like I’ve been holding my breath for far too long. “It’s not what you think.”

In her hand is a glass of brown liquid a quarter of the way full. She brings it to her lips and drinks every last drop before letting the pleasant mask on her face fall. “You leave tomorrow,” she says, lowering her voice.

“Tomorrow?” Why does it feel like she’s struck me in the face?

“The border guard I know will be ready. Meet me at dusk behind Tristan’s horse barn.” She pauses, leaning in. “And if you even think about betraying me, I will do everything in my power to make you wish you were dead.”

18

Sneaking out of the house is too easy with Tristan locked in Farron’s office, working, but my boots seem to drag as I round the corner to the back of his horse barn. It doesn’t feel right to leave without saying something to him. Or Enola. And yet, I couldn’t find a way.

Annette glances over her shoulder at me as she pulls a strap on her saddlebag tight. A second horse grazes on the grass a few feet away. “You’re late,” she says. “Let’s go.”

I hug myself, trying to conceal the stolen papers that are hidden in various places under my clothes. They feel thick and visible. If only I were also returning with more knowledge of how they utilize old-world medicine and what sources they use to get it from, but I’ve run out of time to tour their hospital.

We ride hard through a meadow, a different one from the one I tried to escape through the other night, and quickly come upon a gate in the tall metal fence. It’s not dark yet, and, aware of how exposed we are, I search behind us for witnesses. “Where’s the border guard?”

She silences me with a finger, then pulls something from her back pocket and brings it to her mouth.

Quack. Quack.Quaaaaaack.

The artificial duck sound is returned from somewhere within the trees. The buzzing coming from the fence disappears. With a pop, the enormous gate swings open on its own.

I shift in my saddle, uneasy as she waits for me to ride through. “Where are the guards?” I whisper.

She gives me an annoyed look. “They heard a sound and went to investigate.” She clears her throat. “Now, just so we’re clear, by leaving, you’re forsaking Tristan and Kingsland.”

“That’s not—”

“That’s exactly what leaving means,” she says, cutting me off.

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