A Vow So Bold and Deadly (The Cursebreaker Series Book 3)
A Vow So Bold and Deadly: Chapter 19

Before the curse, I had attendants who would help me dress and prepare, valets and manservants who would lay out clothes or shave my face or fasten my buckles. Servants who would have spooned food into my mouth if I’d ordered it.

When the curse took over and the entire castle staff fled—or died—I was left with no one but Grey. For weeks, I felt helpless. I had no idea where my valets stored my underthings. Or socks! I wore boots without them for days, simply because I could not find them. I had never once shaved my own face, and when I tried, I nearly cut my throat.

I remember finding Grey outside my chambers, standing at attention in the deserted, silent hallway.

“Commander,” I said sharply. “You will show me how to shave.”

He stared at me for the longest moment, and I felt like such a spoiled fool, especially when confronted with the clean-shaven face that he’d clearly accomplished himself, while I was standing there pressing a silk handkerchief to my neck to stop the bleeding.

I waited for his expression to shift into scorn or disdain. For him to inwardly sigh. We were the only two people left in the castle, and there wouldn’t have been much I could have done about it. He could have turned the moment into something humiliating.

He didn’t. “Yes, my lord,” he said equably. “Do you have a kit?”

I expect the memory to sting, but for some reason, this one doesn’t.

Since the curse was broken, I’ve hired servants to fill most of the roles in the castle, but I haven’t bothered to replace the attendants in my own chambers. Something that seemed like a necessity now feels like a frivolity.

Today, though, I wish for an advisor to help me decide how to dress. When I visit my cities, I usually wear tailored jackets and polished boots, silk and brocade trimmed in silver or gold. Never as ostentatious as my father would have been, but enough to signify who I am. Not a subject, not a soldier. A prince—their future king.

For this visit to Silvermoon, however, I need to look ready to command an army.

I tie the laces of a thick linen shirt, then buckle rich leather armor into place over top. Red fabric lines the breastplate, matching the crimson rose paired with a golden lion on the insignia in the center of my chest, and a gold crown has been hammered into the leather directly over my heart. I thread my sword belt into place and add a dagger, then add laced bracers to my forearms that reach all the way to my knuckles. The weight feels solid, secure, and it’s surprisingly reassuring. Maybe I’m the one who needs the reminder of who I am, not my people.

I catch a glimpse of myself in my long mirror, and my eyes shy away. I haven’t worn this armor in months, not since Grey and I were forced to venture off the grounds of Ironrose to chase after Harper, when threats of Syhl Shallow first made themselves known. I have no desire to get lost in those memories right now. I seize a cloak from a hook and buckle it into place along my shoulders.

When I emerge from my chambers, Dustan and Copper are waiting in the hallway.

“Call for horses,” I say as I stride into the hallway. “I will see to Princess Harper.”

Copper gives me a nod and heads toward the stairs, but Dustan falls into step behind me. “My lord,” he says to my back. His voice is low.

“Commander.” I don’t see Zo in the hallway yet, but Harper’s door is open. Light spills across the carpeting in the hallway.

“I must speak with you before you see the princess.”

I don’t stop. “If you have further concerns about Zo—”

“The enchantress has been in the castle.”

There’s very little he could stay that would yank me to a halt, but that achieves it. I round on him. “What?”

“The enchantress visited Princess Harper. She—”

“When?” I demand. “Why did you not tell me at once?” Panic wraps around my heart, and I stride down the hallway. “Was she harmed? Was she—”

“My lord. Stop.” He all but grabs my arm. “Please!” he says. “Allow me to finish.”

I stop. My breathing feels too quick. I cast a glance at her doorway again.

“It was not long ago,” he says quickly, his voice a quiet rush. “The princess was unharmed. The enchantress only issued threats.” He pauses. “But Princess Harper asked that I keep this information from you.”

My pulse is still thundering in my ears. Lilith went to Harper? She issued threats? I know how the enchantress gets her point across, and I have to suppress a shudder.

But then my thoughts seize on Dustan’s final words.

Princess Harper asked that I keep this information from you.

I can’t move. For days, I’ve been terrified of the enchantress returning.

Now it has happened, and Harper sought to keep this from me.

This feels like betrayal. It shouldn’t, but it does. It’s no different from the many times I kept information from her, but fury and fear still spin through my gut to wind together.

Then I have another thought. My eyes snap to Dustan’s. “Has this happened at other times?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

A moment ago, the weight of this armor felt reassuring, but now it feels like a fabrication. Like I am only feigning competence. I kept the truth from Harper because I wanted to keep her safe. I did not want her to recklessly risk her life on my behalf.

She keeps the truth from me because she does not think I can handle it.

I have to draw a steadying breath. I want to confront her. I want to hide. I’m resentful. Humiliated. Afraid.

Angry.

Harper must think that Dustan was going to keep her confidence, because otherwise she’d be out in the hallway right now, pleading with me.

“Who else knows?” I say to him, and my voice is rough.

“Copper. Freya. The soldier Jamison.”

So she not only asked my guard commander to keep a secret, she did it in front of others. I thought we had found a path to honesty and mutual respect, but perhaps I was wrong. My jaw is tight.

“Fine,” I say. I turn to storm down the remaining distance to Harper’s chambers.

I remember the second day she was here, she packed up foods from the kitchens to take to people who were lacking. Grey and I had to chase after her—again—and I asked why she did not ask for assistance.

Because I didn’t think you would do it, she said.

Shame curled in my belly at the time.

This moment does not feel unlike that one.

I stop in her doorway. A part of me was worried I would find her trembling and anxious, somewhat broken after facing Lilith. But she’s not. She’s resplendent in a violet gown meant for riding, a black leather corset laced along her waist, with a dagger belt drooping over one hip. Her hair is braided into twin plaits that are pinned to her head, with a few curls escaping, and her eyes have been lined in dark kohl. She doesn’t look afraid. She looks like a warrior princess.

She had been speaking in low tones to Freya and Zo, but she stops short when she sees me. Her eyes flare wide. “Rhen.”

Do you have so little faith in me? I want to say.

I think I know the answer, and some of my waiting anger withers like my confidence. I feel as though we stare at each other across a distance of miles. I hate this.

So many words wait for a chance to escape my lips, but all I say is “I have called for horses, my lady.”

When I turn away, Dustan is taking a slip of paper from a servant who bobs a quick curtsy to me. Dustan reads it quickly and says, “Chesleigh Darington has returned from Syhl Shallow with information.”

My spy. I have a war to wage. There are more important things at risk than my pride.

Harper appears in the doorway. “Rhen,” she says. “What’s wrong?”

I lock away any emotion and say, “Nothing at all.” I look at Dustan. “Tell Chesleigh we are about to depart for Silvermoon Harbor.”

“I will have the servants prepare a room for her to wait—”

“No. Give her a fresh horse. I want her to come along.” Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

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