Page 191 of Unrivaled
“It made me think of you,” he said.One of his big, blunt fingers bumped across the petals with exquisite care.
“A flower?”I asked, frowning.
“It got a bit beat up,” he admitted.“I had a few of them, actually.I’m not much of a poet, but I hoped you’d see one beat up little flower and…understand the thought, at least.”
The thought?I looked up from the bloom, searching his face for a jest.Poet or not, he wasn’t a stupid man.
“That’s Penny’s Downfall,” I told him slowly.If he’d wanted pretty flowers for me, the gardens had plenty.Thisone had come from well outside the La’Angi walls.I knew.I sourced it semi-regularly and there were no growers in the city.
“She’s only poisonous if you pull out her roots,” he said, smiling down at the flower.“Leave her be and she’ll light up the whole meadow.”My focus narrowed to his form as he stood beside the table, his fingers splayed on the wood’s surface like it was a battlefield map.“When we’re done here, and the dust settles, you should come by some evening.When you aren’t bleeding everywhere.We could share some cider and warm our feet.”He nodded to me and took a step toward the door.“May your arrows be true, Isolde.”
Time slowed, warped, stopped.I had no response.I had nothing, but I realized that wasn’t what Iwanted.
When I looked up, he was gone.
“Stand tall,” I said around the knot in my throat.
CHAPTERSIXTY-EIGHT
AUDREY
I learned they value them above everything.The leader of the rebellion himself walked into my camp, friend, for one dried up old woman whose tits could double as her own belt.These people disgust me.And now I have their leader.—in a letter from General Victor, Duke of La'Angi to General Dieudonné, Count of Black Borough
27thDay of Autumn’s Son Moon,
Age of the Locways, Year 272
La’Angi Keep
The words leapt into my mind, phrases almost glowing.I scratched out the amends I needed to make to the renting laws, keeping it brief, focusing on what would be most critical and least likely to be unraveled by my father.It was a task I’d put off for far too long, but today it was working.My mind was working.
Chay came into the room, the metallic sounds of his belt and frog a normal part of my day.Or it would have been, if he’d stayed over near the fire, whittling.
His steps weren’t as heavy as they’d once been.I tracked his progress with the jangle of his frog and tried to put aside the frustration that snarled inside of me at the interruption.This was what I got for leaving these matters until the death knell.
Following that thought to the next, I paused to dip my quill into the inkpot.“If you’re here to convince me to let you fight in my stead,” I told him, without looking up, “please save both of us the disappointment of that conversation.”
“I wasn’t going to offer,” he said.“You know I would, and I know you won’t.”
I paused, hoping I wouldn’t lose the flow I’d managed somehow to find amidst the turmoil of the day.“Are you after Isolde?”I asked him, knowing they’d had their heads together and had been making plans.
Sensible plans, no doubt.Plans to keep my neck whole and my heart beating if everything fell apart.I’d memorized the maps of our caches of goods years ago, though.I knew all the ways out of the city.I couldn’t leave it behind.Not like this.Not when it was mine.Not when itwantedto be mine.But that made me think of Isolde and the fine tremor I’d felt in her hands even last night as she’d brushed my hair.Whatever that poison was, it’d taken a toll.
“I should have listened to you,” I admitted to Chay, setting aside the quill and rubbing a hand over my aching face.“I should have gutted Luca years ago.”
“Plenty have tried,” he offered.“He’s surprisingly resilient to gutting.”
“He has to be good at something,” I said bitterly, hating that he wasn’t even my biggest problem now.
“I’m sorry, Audrey.”
My attention sharpened on his face, so full of regret, and alarm flared.“Why?”What had he done?
“Because I’m stupid,” he said.“Because I was scared, and then I scared you.”
The ground opened up beneath me and for a moment I was back in front of the fire and pottery was smashing.I stood, drawing strength from the movement, from my ability to do so.
“I was terrified,” he went on.“If word got out that we were together, your father would’ve done worse than kill you.”
