Page 73 of War Hour

Sar inhales deeply. “Lord Bralas, my father, found him fighting in an illegal battle ring and, instead of punishing him... hired him. Ardis became my personal guard by title and my warden by practice.”

I can’t stifle my gasp. “He worked for your father?”

Sar nods with a grimace. “Not willingly. You can’t exactly say no to a lord.”

It’s impossible to reconcile the Ardis I have witnessed with any version who would align himself with Bralas. From the snippets I’ve seen of the two together, there isn’t a world where Ardis would ever harm Sar.

“How did he end up helping you?”

“We became friends. He tried to shield me from my father as much as he could, but we both reached our last straw. For me, it was when I caught wind of an arranged marriage in the works. I decided right then I was done being controlled—by anybody.”

“So, you escaped?”

Sar gives me a half smile, nodding. “I escaped. I couldn’t portal a fraction of what I can now, but I got us out of the fortress, and Ardis got us out of the court. And he took me to Torryn.”

I take in what Sar has revealed. The story is obviously one that pains her greatly, yet she chose to tell me. Maybe it is that she is starting to trust me or wants to give me a glimpse of a reason to have faith in them. Either way, my panic at what comes tomorrow eases a little, knowing that, no matter what happens, I have people I can depend on. Trusting them to do what they say they will.

Chapter 28

Delicate music floats down the halls like clouds in the sky, gentle and welcoming, as it announces our nearing of the ballroom. A sound that would otherwise be a soothing melody sounds foreboding, a warning of the night ahead.

My hands tremble with every uncertain step. I grip the fabric of my dress, bunching it until it wrinkles, just for the sake of occupying my hands.

Tonight’s Peace Ball holds more weight than just the dancing or the feast awaiting us inside. While all attention would be on the frivolity and spectacle, I would make my way through enemy lines, trying to gain allies. So much could go wrong within these next few hours.

Sar reaches over, startling me, and pulls one of my arms to twist with her own. She gives me a tight-lipped smile, and I sag into her for a second.

“It’ll be over before you know it,” she assures me.

I nod, letting her lead us forward despite my reluctance.

“Torryn better be ready,” Sar mutters as she flicks a tendril of her sleek red hair out of her face. “I can guarantee he is hidingout somewhere, hoping I won’t find him before the procession, so I can’t drag him here.”

I wish I had thought to. I can hardly blame him if he was, for these people like him even less than me.

We round the corner of the ballroom’s entrance and stand atop the marble staircase where a few guests trickle into the sea of people below.

Sar turns to me, eyes still surveilling the crowd. “I need to retrieve our lord to make sure he is ready for his entrance in the procession. I pray he’ll save me the tantrum—you two are so much alike.” Sar shoots me a teasing glare.

My jaw drops at the realization that she plans to abandon me atop the staircase just as more and more eyes find me, pinning me in place.

When she sees my gaping expression, she nudges me forward. “Find Ardis, and I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

Wiping away my fearful expression, I turn back to descend the stairs, and all I allow them to see is a blank, neutral one. The more uncomfortable I look, the more it will emphasize I do not belong here. Instead of showing the anxiety swirling below the surface, I raise my gaze, letting my eyes meet several in the crowd.

Circling the room, I do as Sar had suggested. Each time I near someone, I peel my lips back, trying to give them my best smile. But from the way they turn away quickly, I worry it looks more like a grimace. Catching sight of Ardis tucked away at a table in the corner, I abandon the pointless mission.

In his hand is a dark drink, which he nurses as he surveys the room. The hair that normally grazes his ears is slicked back, revealing the clipped hair underneath. Shaved symbols and lines mark the short hair.

Beelining across the room, I grab a drink off a passing tray before coming to stand next to him.

His eyes sweep over me quickly before he nods in greeting, muttering, “You look good.”

I bite back a laugh with a sarcastic smile. “I’ll let Sar know you appreciate her work.”

He snorts as I take a long drink from the glass. Startled, I cough at the burning sensation creeping down my throat. Narrowing my eyes at the drink swirling around in my cup with new suspicion.

Ardis looks at me with a curved brow.

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