Page 11 of A Promise so Bold and Broken

He blamed you for what you did.

Rightfully so.

Lessia swallowed against the thickness, trying to tell herself that wasn’t true.

“I don’t think he knew, or at least suspected, until he saw you,” Merrick said softly as pity darkened his eyes. “I told you before—you were a child. Even if you’d killed her, they wouldn’t have blamed you. And I’ve seen the love Alarin holds for his family. He would have turned these lands upside down to find you if he knew.”

She sniffed as Merrick picked up a lock of her bronze hair, twining it between his long fingers. “You are a mirror of your sister, Lessia. Alarin isn’t dumb. He knew something was off the moment he met you.”

A knot formed in her stomach when Merrick sighed again. “We need to go somewhere safe to figure out our next steps, and while Raine might not welcome us with open arms, I’m hoping he’ll not turn us in as soon as he sees us.”

ChapterThree

When they finally made their way inside, the captain had brought down more watery grain.

Venko and Ardow sat at the table, picking at it with rusty spoons.

Shadows danced over the men and across the small cots covering the cabin walls, their eerie movements shifting when the ship tilted from the rising winds.

Lessia had to grip the side of one of the cots when a strong gust made the ship heel, and her stomach turned enough that she headed to her assigned bedding instead of joining the table and the unpleasant smell of half-rotten oats.

Sitting down on the bed, she drew deep breaths through her mouth against the nausea, her eyes tracking Merrick as he also opted to head to his cot.

Settling in the too-small cot opposite her, he unsheathed the sword always strapped to his back, its rubies glowing softly as he placed it beside him on the mattress.

Lessia picked at the dagger he’d given her, running her fingers along the identical red gemstones before laying it beside the one her father had gifted her.

She’d thought it strange King Rioner hadn’t disarmed Merrick when they’d captured him.

But perhaps his faith in the blood oath was that strong.

Merrick had been in his service for centuries, after all.

Ardow rose, his chair scraping against the floor as he pulled it out.

Picking up two cups from the table, he closed the short distance to her cot, his eyes flicking to the spot beside her.

Lessia thought about refusing, but when his face strained, she sighed and shifted to the end of the bed.

Ardow offered her a small smile as he pressed one of the cups into her hands.

“Truce?” he asked softly.

She narrowed her eyes as another surge of anger swept over her, but when Merrick cleared his throat across the room and she shifted her eyes to his, a wheezing breath made its way into her lungs.

I can only use that anger to direct the future,he’d said.

Averting her eyes to the hands in her lap, she thought he had a point.

She could be angry at Ardow all she liked, but it wouldn’t help their situation.

Flexing her fingers, she made herself meet Ardow’s imploring gaze and groused, “For now.”

He nodded as he bumped his cup against hers, and when he lifted it to his lips, she followed.

Tears sprung into her eyes the second the liquid touched her mouth, and she spat it out, gasping for air as the few drops that had made it down her throat burned like blazing flames.

“What is this?” she hissed, using her sleeve to wipe at her tongue when the scalding sensation continued. “Are you trying to kill me?”

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