Page 82 of A Crown of Tears and Treason
His grip tightened for the briefest moment. Then he loosened his fingers, thumb gently stroking my wrist.
“I came after you because no child of mine will suffer like I had to after a broken marriage alliance. They will not know the fear of being hunted down and unprotected, and I will make this world more peaceful before any of them will be born,” he said, and my heart ached for him. For the boy who’d suffered and for the man who’d risen from the ashes to become the fearsome Dragon. Who’d risked a Clan war to make sure he could protect his future family.
There it was.
The reality we couldn’t run away from.
I looked at our intertwined fingers. We both ended up here, together, to protect others. Our families, present and past.
But only I had done it for revenge as well.
Chapter
Twenty-Four
EVIE
“Again.”
Adara’s stern voice echoed in the courtyard, beating against my heaving chest. The sun bared down mercilessly, glazing the sweat on my arms and back. I’d need to buy Goose new clothes at this rate; I’d left my pretty dresses in their pretty wardrobe for this training session.
“Again.” Adara had been standing in the same position for the past hour, watching as I fought the mannequin. And lost.
The skin on my knuckles had split around the half hour mark, but I kept punching the wood.
Over and over and over again.
“Your Grace, you’re already five minutes late,” Leesa said from the veranda. She’d been watching too, concern marring her doll face.
I wiped the sweat off my brow with the back of my bloody hand. “In a minute.”
Was I avoiding talking to Allie?
Maybe.
Because I’d have to tell her the truth about that horrid, awful night, and I wasn’t eager to see the devastation in her eyes. Or worse, the disappointment at what I’d done.
Zandyr had been understanding and–dare I say it?–gentle last night, but that didn’t help ease my nerves at telling my family.
“She needs to make it fall first,” Adara said. “Then she can leave.”
“Why can’t I just kick it?” I asked after another painful punch; my bones clattered. Five more minutes of this and I wasn’t sure I could use my fingers again. “It’s not like an assassin is going to stay still while I pummel it.”
“You need more muscles in your arms. You said you slipped in the temple.”
“My hands were sweaty.” Another punch. The pain spidered from my wrist up my arm.
“They will be sweaty again. And you need the strength to handle bigger weapons.”
Punch. “Was is it with you Blood Brotherhood members–”
“Ex-member,” Adara rumbled.
“–and big blades?”
“If your assassin’s larger, your little switchblade can’t even dig deep enough to hit their artery.”
Punch. Harder this time. “I’ll aim for their eyes.”
