Page 10 of Fortress of Ambrose (House of Marionne #3)

Seven

Nore

Nore’s bones rattled with panic. She wasn’t sure why she grabbed the blade. She didn’t want to fight with Yagrin. She didn’t want this at all.

Yagrin’s eyes swirled with suspicion. But she knew he was always more frustrated than angry.

“If you’ve lied about your intentions—”

“Yagrin! Stop.” Her cheeks flushed. She lowered her arm. “I would never hurt you.”

Yagrin’s expression cinched, his eyes narrowing.

“Ellery has our mother imprisoned for all I know. If I could rescue her from him myself, I would have done it. I need your help. And I’m helping you in exchange.”

“Then what was that back there? I asked you to help. I meant magic.” The lines of his face deepened.

She could practically hear the wheels of his mind turning, questioning whether she was trustworthy, assessing whether he’d have to kill her. She tucked the blade away. “I got scared. Okay? I’m sorry.”

He glared.

“Stop looking at me that way. I had a moment. Am I allowed a moment?”

A war wrestled in her chest. Nore wanted to tell him the truth, that she was Red. She wanted to believe that he would forgive her for lying and making up an entire existence. That his love for Red—for her—would outweigh any betrayal.

Telling him the truth was futile. Yagrin’s favorite hobby was holding grudges! And he had one against the Order in a death grip. He would never forgive her if he knew. He’d never believe her feelings for him were ever real.

He wet his bottom lip before tucking it. Her neck heated. She knew what was coming.

“You’re lying to me.”

Nore put on her best incredulous tone. “I’ve done nothing but help you!” Her voice cracked. And it made her feel naked.

She dated him as Red for months. She should be able to lie to him better.

But as Red, it was different. She didn’t look like herself.

She could make up new mannerisms. Red chewed her nails.

Nore didn’t. She’d started the disgusting habit to create distance between her and her persona.

Red was sassy and didn’t care what people thought.

Nore was terrified people would see deeply into her.

She wanted to be more like Red. She wasn’t exactly the mousy daughter she was under her mother’s care.

But she wasn’t the person she wanted to be either.

She was some mixed version of two people—brave one moment, a coward the next.

Sure of herself until someone stared at her too long.

She clenched her fists but bit her tongue.

She couldn’t shatter his heart or her own a second time.

She forced the lump in her throat down and exhaled. She had to sell this act better than she ever had. He could never find out. Ever.

“We’re wasting time,” she said. “I’m sorry I didn’t think to try magic. Next time, I’ll be there.”

Yagrin hadn’t moved. His dark amber eyes tore into her as he said, “Show me your magic now.”

She stopped breathing.

He folded his arms.

“I was trained as a Cultivator. And we don’t have any rings.”

“That’s what you’re forced to study. Your natural magic is something else.”

Shit. He’s read about me. Nore couldn’t keep straight the lies her mother kept feeding the Daily.

She couldn’t remember what she’d told them she liked to do magically.

All she remembered was that heirs were Cultivators and they used rings to augment magic in others.

She opened her mouth, but words wouldn’t come out.

“You don’t have magic.” His gaze widened.

The truth shook her in the best way. It was actually refreshing to hear it spoken aloud. One less lie between them. She hooked her hands together and stood taller, picturing Red.

“And so what if I don’t?” She tried her best to look cavalier. Truth was, she didn’t care that she didn’t have magic. But it was nauseating for people to know. Protocol meant he should kill her now because Unmarked, the non-magical, couldn’t look upon magic and live.

She knew Yagrin. Revenge kept his heart beating. This new Yagrin was someone else entirely. She watched his hand. It didn’t move, just as she’d thought. He could never hurt her physically. Not when he could do much more damage with the truth.

“Since you’re not going to kill me, should we go?”

“You’ve been playing the whole Order?” His mouth bowed. He exhaled in wonder. “How’d you even pull that off? Your mother must be in on it? Or your brother.”

“It’s been my entire life’s practice to hide it.”

“You lie so well.” The awe in his expression darkened. “You fit right in with the rest of the Order. Corrupt and dishonest.”

The world bled red. “You can take your opinion of me making sure I’m not killed and shove it up your ass.”

“The mouse has a voice.”

She balled her fists.

“Let’s get on with this business. We need that Scroll for my brother.”

He was so bad at lying to her. She could always tell.

This time his hand fiddled with his pocket.

He could be grumpy and bitter, but Yagrin’s heart was made of mush.

He cared deeply, and that’s why he hated the Order and everything it touched.

She longed to go to him. To wrap her arms around him and tell him he didn’t need the Scroll.

She was right there! Instead she stood watching as he stewed.

She tried to look like her heart wasn’t ramming in her chest.

His mouth pulled sideways, and he laughed.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing.” His hand pulled at his pocket harder.

“And you say I lie well.”

“Look, I don’t trust you. I can tell something about you is off. You’re terrible at pretending.”

She bit down the urge to guffaw. How wrong he was.

“But I don’t care what your story is or what you’re after. Just keep your word,” he said. “Find the Scroll, and we’re good.”

He dared judge her?

“Keep yours—once we find it, rescue my mother. And you have nothing to worry about.” As long as her mother was alive, Nore would never inherit Headship. And with the Scroll in Nore’s hands, her mother could live forever.

The dead would kill Nore if they realized that her heart had no magic!

That she couldn’t fulfill the Pact. A shiver raced down her spine.

Her magicless heart would never be shoved in the ancestors’ glass box, as had been done to her mother.

If Yagrin tried to outsmart her before rescuing Isla Ambrose, Nore would just use the Scroll herself.

Either way, Nore would live.

She refused to apologize for doing what was needed to stay alive. Everyone was loyal to themselves. She was no worse than the rest. That was why loving Yagrin in any pure way was utterly impossible. They were both liars.

The Order wouldn’t own her life anymore. Then she could find another farm somewhere and make a life of her own. A place where she would wall herself in with trees. Picturing her future homestead tugged at her chest with a sharpness that felt more like pain than relief.

Her greatest hope was that at this new home, she’d finally be able to forget about Yagrin.