Page 54 of The Devil May Care

My father doesn’t stop me. Solonar watches me go. And I feel the heat at my back as I descend the stairs—not from the chamber, but from the fire I no longer know how to contain.

I don’t intend to go to her. There’s no reason to. No protocol. No command. My words to my father do not count as such, but my feet move before my mind gives permission, and the air still smells of blood and scorched stone when I reach the door.

The chamber is small. Spare. Meant for rest or quiet collapse. She’s seated near a basin, one arm bare, water pink with blood where she’s dabbing it clean. Her braid is fraying. Her tunic clings where she’s sweated through the collar. I should leave. I step inside. She doesn’t look up right away.

“I’m fine,” she mutters. “Unless you’re here to tell me I violated another ancient tradition by falling on my face.” Her voice is dry. Dismissive. But when she does glance up—when her gaze meets mine—she stills. “Oh,” she says. “It’s you.”

That shouldn’t twist something behind my ribs, but it does.

I want to ask who she thought I was? Who she’s been spending so much time with that their presence was expected? I want to grab her shoulders and shake her until her teeth rattle for catching my father’s attention.

I speak before I think better of it. “You were reckless.”

She snorts. “Thanks for the feedback. I’ll log that in my dream journal.”

“You could have died.”

“Yeah,” she says, wiping her arm with a fresh cloth. “I gathered that.”

My pulse is too loud in my ears. I didn’t feel this way when Isaeth fell. Not at first. Not until it was too late.

“You were not chosen. You were not marked. You were not meant to be in that ring.”

That gets her attention. She lowers the cloth. Her elbow is raw and red beneath it, but she doesn’t wince.

“You think I wanted to be there?”

“You stepped forward.”

“I was dragged,” she snaps. “Your realm’s magic pushed me. I said no. I said no twice.”

My jaw locks. Because I remember. I felt it. The circle called her, and she resisted, and still it pulled her in.

“You should have stayed down,” I say.

“I did. Three times.”

“You should have stopped resisting—”

“I should have let them assault me?” she cuts in, eyes flashing. “Beat me? Kill me?”

My fists curl.

“No,” I say, louder now. “You should have let it all go without risking everything. You could have stepped out of the ring at any time..”

She blinks, tilting her head to study me.

Then, softly, “You were watching?”

Silence swells between us. I feel the tremor start in my hands. I press them behind my back.

“Yes,” I say. “We all were.”

Her mouth parts, but she doesn’t speak.

“You don’t understand,” I say, low and furious now. “They were waiting for you to fail. They wanted it. Some of them still do.”

“I’m not marked,” she whispers, more to herself than to me.