Page 57 of A Dagger of Ice and Intrigue
The sting in my eyes turned unbearable.
I gritted my teeth against the tears.
Veghearas only cried at births and funerals, not on any random day, captive or not.
I was the First Daughter.
I had to set an example.
A laugh that sounded too much like a sob ripped my throat, slashing the silence which had engulfed me since the Commander had left.
I might not have been the First Daughter anymore.
I hated the Commander for planting these doubts inside of me–I already had enough of those without his help.
I hated myself even more for letting them sprout.
What if he was telling the truth?
Then right after my father had been assassinated, my uncle had stolen my throne and told everyone who would listen that I was a coward who ran away from danger.AndI’d been set up in an arranged marriage with a stranger.
No, my enemy, through Clan and actions.
The Clan Council couldn’t have given such a decree. It was a trick, meant to keep me pliable and raging about the wrong thing.
If Evie had truly agreed to marry The Dragon, then the Blood Brotherhood would have royal Vegheara blood sitting on their precious throne. That alliance should have been enough.
Why would the Clan Council force the issue and truly incapacitate the best fighters and leaders in the Protectorate and Blood Brotherhood?
It didn’t make any sense.
Nothing did.
How would Silas have wormed his way onto my throne?
Worst of all…how had the Protectorate accepted him?
I couldn’t mean so little to my own Clan.
All those years of dedicating myself to the Protectorate couldn’t meannothing.
The weeks-long hunting trips in the dangerous mountains when that awful drought hit Aquila. I wasn’t yet sixteen and took down the biggest bucks in the hunting party.
Those long, sweaty days on the training grounds, bleeding my arms and scraping my knees from the moment the sun scorched my back until the night shivers engulfed me.
The negotiations I’d been part of, staring down men twice my age and build, scoffing at their threats while I was quaking inside.
All those sacrifices had to meansomething.
Loyalty, at least.
Had my Clan only listened to me when my father was alive?
Could I lead only when I was allowed to?
No, a forceful voice rattled my mind.
It hadn’t come from my missing power. The well inside me was as dry as before I’d gone into the coffin.
