Page 56 of Thorn Season (Thorn Season #1)

Sabira’s eyes glazed as she realized, after seven years, that she’d made a fatal mistake.

“The nobles’ halls were guarded back then,” she whispered. “The royals’ halls were not. I found the passage in my closet, connecting my chambers to Nelle’s. I told Wray to come through her suite... Nobody would know.”

“Somebody did know.” I returned the key to my pocket. “You never suspected who killed him?”

“The Hunters have many enemies: sympathizers, Wielders in hiding. It could’ve been anyone.”

“This person must have been watching you. They had free rein of the palace, and they knew when Wray would be at his most vulnerable. Didn’t you ever try to—?”

“ No ,” Sabira snapped. “Wray was already gone. I wouldn’t make myself a target by playing detective.” Absently, she rested a hand on her abdomen. “I couldn’t afford the risk.”

It took me several seconds to understand. Wray’s anxious secrecy, the burning of his journals... Suddenly, his behavior sounded familiar. It sounded like Father’s behavior in the weeks before I was born.

“You were pregnant,” I breathed. “You were planning to run away together, with the child—”

“I lost the child at birth,” Sabira said roughly, before my thoughts could travel further.

I felt a twinge of pity as her head lowered in sorrow.

And I realized why she’d started wearing armor over her stomach—why she’d kept wearing it seven years later.

To honor the memory of what she’d been trying to protect.

“Wray would have wanted to be there,” she murmured, her gaze falling to the ring he must have given her all those years ago.

“He was unlike the others. He was kinder than he showed.”

Judging from my cold memories of Wray, I had to wonder whether Sabira’s grief clouded her recollection, or if love simply went hand in hand with delusion.

At last, I smoothed my skirts and said, “I believe you.” Sabira sagged in relief, and I almost felt guilty for the words that followed. “Let’s see if Briar believes you, too.”

She leaped up, ferocious. “You know I didn’t kill Wray.”

Of course I did. Even as I’d goaded her, I’d known that a woman who’d murdered a Hunter—and was now slaughtering Wielders—wouldn’t have let Rupert blackmail her for seven years without taking more action than a feeble dose of wayleaf.

But I gave a small, commiserating smile. “I’ll vouch for you. But I can’t predict how Briar will react to the truth of her brother’s death. I suspect you’re about to discover whether your mercenaries truly match the strength of the Capewells.”

Sabira seemed halfway between bursting into tears and clawing for my throat. It was an undignified look on someone with so much self-importance.

But the right words could bring anyone to their knees.

“Do you have any idea what it is to be afraid?” she rasped. “To live life looking over your shoulder?”

I didn’t reply.

Sabira wheezed and slumped back onto the bed, all strength lost. “I watched you for a while. I was curious to see what fresh hell-spawn the Capewell line had produced. Even without your mother alive to raise you, I’d hoped her blood would cleanse you of their mark.

But I suppose some stains can never be washed out. ”

Remembering that Sabira’s mercenaries had fired arrows into the foreheads of sixty-three sympathizers, bile scalded my throat.

“You’re not a good person, Lady Sabira. Don’t embarrass either of us by pretending that you are.”

She gave a wet, defeated chuckle. “Very well, then, little Hunter.” She crossed trembling hands over her knees. “Tell me what you want.”

A person could only bend so far before they broke.

From the start, it was my progress that had prompted the keeper into action against me.

The first attack had come days after I’d tested the silver key along the nobles’ halls.

Then I’d searched Henthorn for the eurium bladesmith.

And on the night of Father’s murder, Junius had sent me a note with Kevi Banday’s last known location. A note I’d never received.

Tari had been right. I’d put so much energy into Nelle and Carmen that I hadn’t truly considered somebody else watching from the sidelines, directing the copycats. With each step forward, I’d been unwittingly bending them, forcing their hand.

My next action would break their restraint.

“But what encouraged this initiative?” Carmen asked one evening, her cheeks a stunned shade of pink.

“A Wielder holding a knife to my throat rather did the trick.”

“Oh, it—it’s understandable,” she spluttered. “But using Sabira’s mercenaries?”

“They did fine work in Parrey. They’ll do just as well in Vereen.”

“They’re brutes! To sanction such carnage in your lands—”

“Carnage?” I kept my expression delicately critical. “You don’t expect me to let them fester under my province, do you?”

Carmen blanched. “Of course not. I worry only that Erik won’t approve. You know he loathes mercenaries.”

“I already informed Erik. He thinks it’s a splendid idea.”

And it was true. Erik had shown overwhelming approval when I told him I’d employed Sabira’s mercenaries to scour the Verenian mining tunnels for sympathizer units.

After all, Sabira’s family, the Kaulters of Parrey, had only thought to comb their abandoned smithies after intercepting a report.

I was mimicking their actions in my province unprompted.

.. It made me seem hungry for bloodshed.

For power . Exactly the kind of woman Erik wanted.

He watched in satisfaction as the other nobles dipped their heads to me—not from respect, as they had after Father’s death, but with new trepidation. I began to understand how Erik savored the taste of their terror; it fueled me, emboldened me, their cowardice dissolving like sugar on my tongue.

Only Junius had the courage to confront me outright.

He looked even more haggard since the night with Quincy, his bare earlobe drawing more attention than his earring ever had. But he’d remained here in defiance—a silent declaration that it would take more than relinquished jewelry to run the Jacombs from court.

“You told me where our employees were buried,” he whispered in the ballroom. “You helped my family send them off. Why the change of heart?”

“Who said our arrangement had anything to do with my heart?” I responded coolly.

He looked me over in disappointment, and I pretended it didn’t bother me. “You are the same as them,” he said, and strode away.

Nobles scurried out of his path.

They’d been especially nervous since Keil’s attack, expecting Erik to fly into a rage at any moment.

Yet the king had emerged from that chaotic night almost pleased —a reaction that disturbed me more than his anger would have.

But I was occupied by greater matters; with Keil gone, so too were my chances of translating the copycats’ symbol.

I needed this plan to work.

So I fanned the flames of gossip. I discussed my initiative loudly with anyone who asked. I rubbed my throat during the balls, as if in bitter memory of Keil’s blade pressed against it.

Revenge , the nobles whispered. The lady wants revenge.

The words spread like a disease through court, but only the keeper would make sense of them. They alone would understand the true intent behind my initiative.

I’d done my research: There were few complexes in Daradon both large and private enough to secretly imprison and execute Wielders.

While the last tunnels had collapsed, over a hundred similar sites remained under Vereen.

Scouring each location for the copycats might take months—time I couldn’t lose if I wanted to find the compass before Briar and before the copycats Hunted again.

But I didn’t have to search the tunnels. I just needed to convince the keeper that I was going to.

I needed to convince them I was a threat worth eliminating.

The words of my father’s killer thumped like a drumbeat in my mind: Keep pushing and you’ll see what happens.

That was exactly what I intended to do.