Page 195 of Unrivaled
I could see it all unfolding.I could predict his moves.I’d done this my whole life.Longer than she’d been around.I wasn’t a fool.
“I’m not a fool,” I told her, gathering up my skirts.My hands didn’t want to respond.They had to.I couldn’t freeze.
“No one is saying you’re a fool,” Isolde said, impatience in the words.She’d stopped, perfectly balanced, ready to spring an ambush.No longer shaking.No longer hurting.
Action gave us strength.I could take action.“You all know better than me.”The bitter words escaped my mouth before I could stop them.I didn’t stay to check what impact they could have.“I’ve been walking into my father’s traps since before Icouldwalk, Isolde.”
“And how often do you walk back out of them?”she demanded.
“Do I need towalkto win?”I shot right back, taking the stairs to my tower two at a time.The challenge echoed against the stone walls.You can beat me, but you can’t defeat me.“We could kill that group,” I said, waving a hand in the wrong direction to indicate the group in the bailey, unconcerned about the inaccuracy.Isolde would know what I meant.“And then he’d send another.If we killed them, he’d send another.Fuck being besieged by my own father, Isolde.Not at a city level.But one on one?He can try what he wants.”
Rage made me strong and actions held back the terror.I dragged my saddlebags out from beneath the bed.The rug beneath them scrunched up, cringing away from reality.I planted a foot against it, hauling the bags onto the neatly laid covers.
“And if you can’t walk out of his war camp?”she demanded.“You’ll be isolated.Our weapons, our coin, our escape plans all work fromLa’Angi,Audrey.”
“He’s not going tokillme.He’s a lot of things, Isolde, but an accidental killer is never one of them.”Every single kill, every drop ofblood,every bruise and ache, were all deliberate.Sickeningly deliberate.“Mayhap this is simply a normal summons.I’ve no doubt I’ll feel his wrath.”
We hadn’t foreseen this.I couldn’t help but think of all the things I could’ve done to prepare for this trip if only we’d foreseen it.I could’ve had people write up reflections of the tourney.My leadership.I could’ve gathered evidence of the profits I’d turned.The benefits of the deals I’d done.I could’ve had him a cloak made, or a fresh mix of the tisane I knew he liked.Would they have some, still, in the kitchens?Could Bernadette mix some now?A little gift from home to soften the inevitable disappointment I was.
“We’re going, then?”
Chay’s voice jolted me back to the present.I looked up from the chest of clothes I hadn’t yet started to sort through.He stood there, shoulder to shoulder with Isolde.Grief etched lines and shadows on his face.
Rage swept through me.“Someone,” I said, standing.“Someonetell me whatelseI canpossiblydo.”
“Saddle up,” Isolde said, the words crisp.The two of them stood between me and the stairs.A symbolic barrier, no more.“We’ll leave the city with them, then cut their throats in their sleep and vanish for a year or two or more, if needed.Return when the Butcher’s here.They’ll open the gates.They’ll sing your praises.You can slay him and be the hero you want.”
The barb slid home.The fury in her voice, the strength in her shoulders, made my heart ache.She was shaking again, in my mind, in this room.Shaking and lost and scared.
The rage bled from me.“I am already the hero I want to be,” I told her, the words holding no gentleness.She had no time for that.“This changes nothing for me.”
“How can it change nothing?”she demanded, throwing up her hands.“You’ve planned for this fight.There is no fight.We retreat and lay another ambush, Audrey.That’s the way of the steppe cat.Running after prey that outstrips you will only weaken you.”
But my target wasn’t prey.It was a kraken like me.
I turned back to the clothes, not allowing myself to dwell on choices.I prioritized warmth and colors that would conceal me.I prioritized survival.
“I’ll go along,” I said, sorting with hands that didn’t shake.“Mayhap I’ll get an opening and I’ll slay him in front of his own army.Wouldn’t that make the bards happy?”I asked them, letting the laughter seep into my voice.“Mayhap I’ll take a beating.I’ve never failed to survive one before.What would he gain from killing me now?I’m making him money and growing his reputation.”
“You’re going against the locways,” Chay said, softly.
Since he was standing about, I tossed him a cloak to roll.“I’ll apologize and lie and make myself as small and acceptable as I can.You don’t want to hear that,” I cut in as Isolde opened her mouth.“I’ll do it, and I’ll do it with no shame.None.”In that moment, it was the truth.I stood and started packing.“I’ll live.And we’ll come back and keep going.This isn’thaltingthe plans—it’s just rescheduling them.This is agoodthing,” I realized, ignoring the lump of dread that sat in my belly like soggy bread.“It gives me time.Think of what I could do withanotheryear.”
When I turned to them, neither of their faces reflected any optimism despite the irrefutable arguments I’d presented.
We stood in silence.The everyday sounds of the city felt so far away.I looked out over the city I’d been so ready to claim along with my power.There was so much to feel and no time for any of it.Those feelings, they mattered.But not at the cost of survival.
“What reason does he have to demand your presence?”Isolde asked.“I can think ofnone.”
“The Southerners have made it unsafe for him to leave,” I offered, with a shrug.“He knows La’Angi will remain stable over winter.I can update him properly.”
“He could execute you on any one of dozens of counts of treason,” Isolde shot back.
“Given the myriads of possible execution methods at his disposal, this seems the most work and least impactful if he wanted to send a warning,” I reminded her.
“Why not have you write more letters?”Isolde demanded.“This is atrap.”
“What do you foresee?”I asked, frustration making the question more forceful than I wanted.
