Page 105 of A Dagger of Ice and Intrigue
Why go out and explore the city when I didn’t have to escape anymore?
Why escape when even one of the best Protectorate warriors had tried to strangle me?
What was the point of it all?
Mrs. Thornbrew fussed with my pillows and I took the opportunity to sigh in my chest without having her weary eyes pity me some more.
The absolute horror of people seeing me weak had remained, despite everything.
Especially after I’d made a blubbering spectacle of myself after the Commander had saved me. What he must have thought of me, not able to fend off my attacker, then crumbling in his arms in a shattered mess and drifting off into an exhausted sleep while he’d embraced me.
I didn’t even know how I’d gotten back to the fortress. I didn’t remember the voices hounding me on the way back or walking.
He must have carried me, like a frightened, powerless babe.
Something that needed saving.
Dead weight.
First Daughters weren’t saved–they were the saviors.
I’d made a fool of myself.
I didn’t deserve to be called The Huntress.
Not anymore.
I’d been raised to lead an entire Clan. I thought the Protectorate respected me–or at least cared about me.
But at the first troubled wind, they all forgot about me.
Perhaps that’s why my father had asked Evie whether she wanted the crown which was supposed to be hers.
Maybe he’d known, consciously or not, that I wasn’t fit enough to lead.
They could have all just let me play pretend all these years because I bore the Vegheara name. Yet when I needed them, silence.
No, not silence.
Violence and blood.
I didn’t know which was worse, forgotten or attacked.
Neither option was good. Neither option had been in the stars for me mere weeks ago.
I stared at my plate and the tender chunks of meat swimming in that unctuous sauce which always had enough pepper and spice to zing my tongue in the best way. Instead of my mouth watering, more bile rose in my throat.
Behind me, Mrs. Thornbrew had begun to fold my duvet, tsking under her breath.
“No, I’ll deal with that,” I said. “You don’t need to do it.”
“Even with that weird, fancy magic of yours, your princess hands aren’t used to this, I can do it better,” she said, but without the slightest note of reproach or judgement. It just was.
And it was true. Even back at home, I didn’t make my bed. It wasn’t like anyone other than me would see it.
That lone thought sent another spear of pain through me, even with the wall of ice encasing me.
Home.
