Page 3 of To Dance with Death

Deep down, I know Queen Sadira is right. She was one of Anton’s closest friends, someone he stood by. I know she’s only respecting his wishes.

“Can’t I visit him one last time?” I ask, even knowing it will yield nothing. “To say goodbye, at least?”

We don’t have much time. We already have to travel through the rest of the night to reach the docks by morning and board the merchant vessel that will inconspicuously take us north. But I haven’t seen him since the day I woke up.

“You know as well as I do that it would go against his wishes,” she says softly. “He demanded I keep you safe—even from him.”

“He would never hurt me,” I say. “Even…like this.”

“Wounds can be more than just physical,” Sadira says, and Ishu sets a chin on her knee. Her hand comes to rest on the tiger’s head. “Besides, I already broke my promise when I let you see him that first time. I suppose I had hoped that, despite everything, your presence might spark something. We all saw that it did not. And I do not wish for him to associateyoufurther with the hatred he feels for us all.”

I know she’s right. But…“It still feels wrong.”

“Everything does, I’m afraid,” she says sadly. “I think it will feel that way until we find a way out of this.”

I blow out a breath. “And if we fail?”

“Vastianna,” she says, her gaze suddenly latching on to mine with a ferocity I haven’t seen since she faced down my father at the Gathering. “I have stood alone against the greatest powers in our mortal world for decades—men who sought to intimidate me and take my land—but still I stand. I have fought against armies twice the size of my own, but still Istand.I have protected every inch of Razam despite hundreds of threats, raids, even battles, my world always on the brink of being lost—butstill I stand.Are similar sentiments not true for you, too?”

Sadira surprises me when she reaches out and grips my hand. “We are made of the most resilient cloth. We will not be defeated, so long as we do not kneel.”

I can’t help the tears that clog my throat, but my fingers curl around hers.

I needed that. Needed a reminder that we could, indeed, face the impossible and triumph. I have to believe that still.

And yet…“How can you bear my presence, knowing the way I put you and Razam in this position?” If I hadn’t framed them, they would be guilty only of conspiracy, not murder.

It was my hand that held the blade. Even now, I feel its weight. I see King Rurik every time I close my eyes, feel the soft parting of his flesh.

“You were faced with an impossible choice—one that no one should ever have to make. When your hand was forced, you chose to save a life that might, in turn, save more.” She shakes her head. “Intent is what matters, Vastianna. And so does heart. For all you have been through, yours still beats with the force of a drum. Let it beat for justice, my dear. For vengeance. This time, you will not be a powerless criminal or a damsel in distress. You will be athreat.”

“But if I confessed everything…”

“I am not letting you take the fall for something your father should pay for. Besides, did you not sacrifice yourself already? Did you not already die?” I open my mouth to argue, but she waves a hand at me. “Once is enough. I will not hear it. I will not condemn a girl who suffered greatly—isstillsuffering—because of what cruel men forced her into. Promise me you will not confess your role to the Syndicate.”

With a shaky breath, I nod. I don’t deserve her grace, but I will cling to her strength.

She rises to leave, and, after assuring her I’ll join them shortly, I bend to whisper in Ishu’s ear. “Look after him.”

With that, I collect my travel bag and cloak. When I glance out the window, I see only his silhouette, a shadow against the rising moon.

I already feel the absence of him, like a chamber cleaved from my heart.

Chapter One

One week later

An icy wind, freckled with snow, smears the sea in blurs of silver.

The storm is a common one—the very same that invades Razam once it dips south, funneling into the currents of heat. But here in Brisendale, we call it Hail North.

And it has come early this year.

Only when I hear the shouts do I realize our ship has docked. The porthole frames my first glimpse of Kurst and the mountains beyond, crested with ice-covered pines underneath a full-bellied sky. My stomach writhes with nervous energy. Deep down, I never thought I would return home.

I turn from the window and gather my cloak, spiraling it around my shoulders along with a thick wool scarf coiled about my neck. I slide padded leather gloves up to my elbows, over my sleeves. The last touch is the hood, so I might hide my face.

My father can’t know I’m here.