Page 141 of The Heir's Bargain

I was the great-granddaughter of Valor Ferrios, the fiercest warrior in Pontian history, the man who had won the final battle in the Great War. I was supposed to be strong, unshakable, unbreakable. Yet here I was, sitting in my bed, wrapped and wounded after a reconnaissance mission.

This was not the version of myself I ever wanted to show anyone.

"You might be hurt, Dani," Fynn whispered, "but you are neither helpless nor weak."

"Get out of my head, Fynn," I spat, throwing up my walls and staring at the ceiling.

Fynn huffed. "I do not need to be in your head to know your thoughts. I know you better than I know myself."

I scoffed.

The edge of the bed dipped as he leaned his elbows onto it.

"Moris told me what happened," he whispered.

I bit my lip as the back of my eyes burned. "Don't say it," I hissed.

"Say what?"

My nose twitched, my nostrils flaring. I squeezed the blanket. "Don't say I told you so or that I shouldn't have gone. I don't need to hear it, nor do I want to."

"I wasn't going to say that, Dani. I?—"

I shook my head. "We were ambushed," I said, ignoring him. "I don't—I don't remember much. We had just made camp. Quint had decided to take the first watch. But I should have been the one to do so." My gaze danced across the room, unable to focus on anything as the memory of the moments before blacking out resurfaced. "I should have searched the surroundings before I went to sleep. But we had been traveling for ten days straight with little rest. We were all tired. I was?—"

I peered at Fynn but then looked away immediately.

When I looked at Fynn, I knew what had happened.

I was distracted.

But I couldn't admit that. Not to Fynn.

He reached out, but when his hand was an inch or two above my thigh, he pulled it back. Shaking his head, he stood. "This is all my fault."

"No, it's not. You couldn't have predicted?—"

At the end of the bed, he stopped and gripped the railing, his hair cascading down his face as he stared at the foot of the bed. His knuckles blanched as his fingers tightened around the metal rod.

"I should have known, Dani. I should have known, but I was selfish. I was chasing a man who always manages to be one step ahead of us." He pushed himself away from the bed and began to pace, his fingers digging into the brown waves that kissed his chin. "How many times has my mother warned me that the king was not one to be dealt with lightly? That it would take careful, strategic planning if we wanted to beat him?"

"Fynn," I said, but he didn't hear me.

"I didn't listen, though. I never listen, do I?" He dug the heels of his palms across his face. "That's what the entire kingdom says, anyway. I never listen. I'm too rash. I'm too?—"

Fynn's mouth opened, but I was done listening to him spit lies.

"Fynn, it doesn't matter. What's done is done!"

When Fynn finally met my gaze, his deep brown eyes were soaked with sadness and regret. However, I didn't want to be another thing he regretted.

"Dani, I'm?—"

"You have nothing to apologize for. It was my fault."

"How—"

I pointed at my chest. "I was the one who was distracted. I was the one who neglected my duties. I know my role. I should have surveyed the area and made sure we were safe. I should have had the first watch."

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