Page 73 of Fate's Wicked Oath

“Remember yours,” she retorted sharply. “Those citizens, that town could’ve—”

“We had it well in hand.”

“Did you?” Faren asked. “Because from what I saw—”

“Stay out of it, gold brute,” Castor snarled.

Faren took a menacing step toward the other man—only for Mariana to bar his progress. She grasped his wrist, right where his vambrace gave way to bare skin. Her touch made his magic skitter, like sparks zipping off two blades colliding.

That’s what they were, weren’t they? Two swords, clashing.

“Don’t,” she whispered, her tone hard, but in it, a plea. “Don’t.”

Faren mastered himself. The sight of the Morta—so different, now—made him feel like the earth was eroding beneath his feet. What evenwashis duty in the face ofthis?

“Good dog,” Castor said with a smirk.

“I wouldn’t push him,” Mariana warned.

In spite of their standoff, Faren smothered a grin at her comment. She pushed him more than anyone else.

“You have business in Waldron,” Castor said to Mariana. “Or have you forgotten your place?”

It was an echo of what Faren had overhead from her leader, a similar threat in a different voice.

Mariana shook her head once. “I have not. I’ll go. But you clean up this fucking mess. You don’t want me distracted? Then don’t give me a reason.”

Behind them, Brom groaned, then threw up.

Castor made a disgusted face at his crony, then stepped closer to Mariana, looming over her with little effect other than the slight wrinkle of her nose. Castor jutted his chin at Faren. “What of him? He seems like a reason.”

“Don’t worry about him,” Mariana said. “His loyalty doesn’t lie where you think.”

As Mariana and Faren left the scene, hurrying away from the Valiant Knights and the strange being still curled in the frosty grass, her words clanged through Faren like a sword strike to his breastplate.

Where did his loyalty lie?

As a Mighty Knight, he was faithful to the realm first—but it was becoming clear that there was quite a bit of nuance between the realm as a concept and what it meant to protect it. He no longer knew what cause deserved his sword, his devotion. Not when monsters were turning intomenat the drop of some unknown potion.

The foundation upon which Faren had built his life and future was crumbling, and Mariana—for better or worse—was the harbinger of the wreckage. Faren wanted to curse her for it. He wanted to drop to his knees before her and ask her what he should do next. He wanted to forget this night ever happened.

They were almost back to town—a pale purple glow illuminating the east—when Mariana piped up. “I just said it to get him off our backs.”

“Of course,” Faren replied stiffly.

“I have business in Waldron,” she said. “You don’t have to—”

“I’m coming with you.”

He told himself that it was for the sake of his mission, to uncover what the Valiant were planning and learn more about what he’d seen tonight. Mariana was letting him in on her plot, and it was his duty to learn as much as he could.

But as dirt turned to cobblestones beneath their feet, he wondered: Wheredidhis loyalty now lie?

27

It’s Okay to Change Your Mind

Mariana