Page 140 of Oathborn
“No, I was in Wesburg when—” he stopped, freezing mid-word. Like a rabbit spotted by a fox, his whole body tensed, his eyes growing wide.
Then, he sprang into motion, bending his head to kiss her, and whispered, “I will find you tomorrow. I promise.” Rising from the bed, he took swift, silent steps to the window and slid out of it.
Only once he was gone did she hear what had worried him: the soft voices of Daeden and Hazelle drawing near her door.
A reminder of both how sharp Yansin’s now-revealed-to-be-Oathbroken senses were and the dangers he risked with his visit.
No more sleep came to her as she lay in bed that night, turning over and over all that she’d learned. Yansin, Oathbroken. Her father, alive. Her own life, now impossibly complicated. That strange, glowing sword, still sitting in the corner, almost seeming to mock her.
Still. She was alive. Her father was, as well. And she had Yansin’s affection and his promise to help her. Surely, she would find a way through this mess.
“Good morning, Zari!” Hazelle’s voice came from outside. “Are you alright? I can’t open the door.”
With a yawn, Zari padded across the room and unlocked the door. A reminder, none-too-welcome, of her conversation with Yansin last night. If he was Oathbroken, he’d risk his life any time he came to the castle, for there was no way he’d ever win against Daeden.
Should she leave with him? Would her father understand?
Unaware of her thoughts, Hazelle grinned at her, a small basket of pastries in her hand. “Breakfast?” she asked.
Zari’s stomach rumbled in response. Just as Hazelle was opening the basket, something sounded like it shattered, far from the room.
A voice, sharp and ringing with authority, shattered the fragile peace. “Stellaris Hazelle! The Queen demands you listen!”
Hazelle’s hand, which had been resting lightly on Zari’s arm, tightened with a sudden, almost painful grip. “That’s Olan,” she breathed, her eyes wideand dark, fixed on the closed door. “The Queen’s most loyal Oathborn. He should not be here.”
The name landed in Zari’s chest like a stone. If all Oathborn had to be loyal, how devoted would this one be? Fear, cold and sharp, clawed its way up Zari’s throat, choking off the last vestiges of sleep.
A heavy thud echoed from the lower level, followed by the unmistakable sound of splintering wood. Panic flared in Hazelle’s eyes, mirroring the terror that gripped Zari.
Daeden. He must have tried to stop, or slow Olan down. To do so risked his own Oath.
Another shout, closer this time, reverberated through the hall. “Where is that girl? She must face consequences for the sin she has committed.”
Daeden’s voice, laced with a desperate plea, rose in weak protest. “No! You don’t understand.”
He was trying to protect her. Despite his Oath, despite his training, Daeden was standing in defiance to the Queen’s will. As much as he’d tried to sidestep the risks before, with his stories, now, it sounded as if he was willing to shatter the Oath entirely.
“No!” Hazelle rose and raced toward the door.
As Hazelle tugged it open, that deep, dangerous voice called out, booming down the hallway. “The wildling has stolen the Crescent Blade.”
Zari’s blood ran cold. Syonia told them it was the Queen’s will. There had been no indication she’d lied, but no reason for her to tell the truth either. It was Syonia who had plotted to break the Accords, who had tailed them this whole journey, and sent Zari on an impossible quest.
It had all been a setup, one that Tivre had allowed her to stumble right into. Even if her father was alive, which was more than she could have ever dreamed, she had no way to help him, no way to wake him.
“It’s not fair,” Zari whispered, though there was no one in the room to hear.
No one except me, little liar,a ghostly voice said.
Zari spun. Her eyes landed on the gleaming sword.
Keep me close by, and you may yet survive. Draw me and find yourself more powerful than you’d dream. Dampen my blade with blood and achieve the destiny long promised.
“No! I won’t—I’m not a killer.”
Are you so sure?
The voices from outside were louder, as if they grew closer. Still, Zari argued with the sword. “I believe in peace.”
