Page 43

“How...? Why—?” I started, at a loss in the face of so much suffering.

“Penterra pours all its wealth into keeping its ruling class and allies abroad happy. Can’t lose their support.” Her voice twisted bitterly. “They don’t give much attention to those in need here at home.” She nodded to Fell ahead of us. “That’s why he was determined to marry you. Well. A princess of Penterra, anyway.” She continued talking as though she had not just delivered a blow. “He wanted a seat at the table, so his voice could be heard, so he could make a difference.”

Oh.Oh.

So he had failed in his quest. Because he was stuck with me.

At leasthethought he had failed. As did the rest of them. Their cold attitude toward me made even more sense now. I swallowed miserably. I thought Fell just wanted to marry one of my sisters, because what man didn’t want the great prize of a princess? I had thought it was ego and greed and status-seeking. I had not felt much remorse over tricking him, considering all of that. But now that I understood his motives, I saw myself the way they all did. Not only as a deceiver, but as a poison, tainting and spoiling their great hope.

A baby started wailing from inside one of the cottages. The muffled sound ricocheted in the murky air. I’d heard babies cry before, but this sounded different. There was pain and need in it. Hopelessness in the disembodied sound that lifted up like a wraith on the air. A ghost child trapped in misery.

Cold shivered down my neck and spine. I felt sick as my gaze swept over the dying village. I knew this was none of my fault, but I had not stopped it. I had not prevented it from continuing. I had not helped these people. Marrying Fell, stopping him from gaining the power he needed to make a difference in their lives, had only made things worse, only pushed innocents deeper into the abyss.

I blinked my stinging eyes, lifting them to Fell ahead of me, but he wasn’t there anymore. He had fallen out of line. He moved toward a well, where several women stood, warily clutching their buckets at his approach. I watched, my breath catching in my chest as he reached inside the satchel draped over his saddle. He said something. His lips moved as he tossed several coins down to them.

The women grasped the coins gratefully, calling out their thanks as he turned back around, nudging his destrier into a trot. His gaze met mine, but I could not bring myself to hold his stare for very long. Not with this sudden knowledge that I had foiled his plans—that these plans were even necessary, that my father was such a terrible ruler. My throat closed.A terrible ruler.But what else would you call a king who let his people starve?

Shaking my head, I got out tightly, “I thought things were supposed to be better after the Threshing.”

That was the whole point behind the war against dragonkind. It was the doctrine espoused by the throne. Not to mention the dogma spoon-fed to me in the schoolroom. The Threshing may have lasted for centuries and cost innumerable lives, but it was supposed to have fixed everything. It had been necessary and, ultimately, successful. And... it was over.

Finished. Done. Ended a hundred years ago with the Hormung.

So why was Penterra like this now? Why was there still such misery?

Humans had blamed dragons for all ills: drought, famine, disease. To say nothing of the destruction of the occasional village or town that fell prey to their fiery wrath. Dragons had sat on great caches of treasure, prospering whilst man wallowed, eking out the barest existence. The Threshing was humanity’s way of turning the tables and ridding dragons from the pecking order forever. It had solved all our problems. At least that was the belief.

Mari shrugged in response and murmured, “Makes you wonder.”

“Wonder?” I echoed.

“Whether dragons were the real problem,” she finished.

A slap could have no more astonished me. I glanced around sharply. Such talk felt almost... sacrilegious. I’d never heard anyone say such a thing. She was a sword maiden. She lived in the Borderlands, the place where the bloodiest, most fearsome fighting had taken place against dragons. Now, however, instead of dragons, the fighting was against bandits who had taken up residence in the dragon-free Crags and against invading soldiers from Veturland who dared to cross the border.

I didn’t reply. I couldn’t. But Mari’s observation sat with me as we rode on, a heavy stone grinding against my chest.

Whether dragons were the real problem.

Certainly all the wealth that had been uncovered from the dragon troves had since been dispensed. And famine and disease were still here. Destroying the dragons had not destroyed those things. Indeednot. And this, coupled with the other revelation of the day—that Penterra was not as prosperous as I had been led to believe, that my father was no great king—was something of an adjustment for me.

I glanced at the broad expanse of Fell’s back ahead of me, wondering if he shared the opinion of this sword maiden. Did he think the Threshing had been pointless, too?

As the son of Balor the Butcher, and the great-grandson of the border king responsible for the victory of the Hormung, he couldn’t possibly. The Lord of the Borderlands had to be bloodthirsty and single-minded in everything, just like his forefathers.

Dryhten was a killer without regret. Not someone who looked back at his father’s legacy and thought any part of it was a mistake.

Not someone who would happily accept being married to the wrong woman.

I WAS NOTprepared for this new world.

The crossing offered no comfortable quarters. No warm bed. No generous meals. No freshly laundered clothes. No maids helping me with my toilette.No casual beatings.I gave my head a small, fierce shake. I had never minded that before. That had been my duty. An honor bestowed upon me. My service to the throne.

Just as this was my duty, too.

It wasn’t as though my former life had been free of threats. It was only that the crack of the whip against my skin had been familiar. At least at home, I knew what to expect. Here, everything was unpredictable. I felt as though I was balancing on a rope—one misstep and I would topple over.

Home.The palace was not my home. Not anymore. I would have to stop thinking of it as such. I had no home at all. No hearth to warm my feet by, with loved ones surrounding me. And yet I could not think of my home as the Borderlands either, a place I had never even been. The mist-shrouded foothills of lore. With him, the Beast, who did not want me as his bride. It was impossible to comprehend.