Page 158 of A Game of Veils

A tendril of resolve unfurls through my turmoil.

The men offering to free me did hate me on first sight. In all of two weeks, I’ve won them over so thoroughly that they’re committing to throwing away all they’ve ever known for my sake.

If I could accomplish that… how can I doubt that I might eventually sway Marclinus? How can I abandon my entire kingdom for my own selfishness when there’s still a chance so solid I can taste it?

How can I take a leap that promises only my own happiness when I might be able to bring so much relief to all the people I came here for—not just mine, but Lorenzo’s and Bastien’s, Raul’s and Neven’s too?

I spring between the wheel’s jutting blades and crash onto the platform beyond it on my knees. But not a single sharp edge has nicked my skin.

The boards beneath me immediately dip below the surface and keep dropping. I jump onto a narrow cushioned float that tilts upward as if to throw me off until I scramble into the middle.

I’m strong enough to see my purpose through to the end. All my determination is still there inside me, as much as it’s been buried by grief and doubt.

I’m more than a pawn. I shouldn’t have had to shoulder this burden… but no one else could have done it.

It doesn’t matter whether it’s fair. Even with the choice that’s just been placed in my hands, I know what I have to do.

Not because anyone ordered me to, not because of any divine message, but because I believe I can finally heal the immense wound that’s plagued these realms for centuries.

The square raft Lorenzo mentioned lies right in front of me. I swallow thickly.

The princes are going to hate me again for this. They’re going to think nothing I said meant anything, that I seduced them for their protection until I didn’t need it anymore.

But I’ve endured their hate before. I don’t think I could endure my own shame if I let my spirits crumble the way they almost did minutes ago.

You aren’t the first men I ever loved, I think into the ether, knowing Lorenzo can’t hear me. But the first one died, maybe because of my selfishness. It’s better for you if I don’t drag you down the same way.

I leap onto the raft and catch my balance, my hands splaying at my sides. Then, quickly but deliberately so there can be no doubt about whether I understood their plan, I flick the fingers closest to the two pines in one of the first signs Lorenzo ever taught me. No.

With the finality of that answer, something cracks inside me. The fire of my renewed resolve melds me back together enough for me to gulp down a breath.

I fling myself onto the next float and slide across its slippery surface. Just before I end up toppling into the water, I lunge toward the next.

A hundred barbs scratch at the soles of my soaked shoes and dig into my dress. They cling to the damp silk, but I tear it from their grasp and charge onward.

I won’t think about the princes who touched me so passionately watching me hurtle on toward the man they tried to rescue me from. I won’t focus on anything except reaching that end, whatever will come with it.

If there are tears in my eyes, it’s nothing more than the spray of the river.

As I spring onto the last float I can see, the interlocking boards split apart beneath my feet. I assumed there were more floats partly beneath the water, but all I can make out from my fracturing vantage point is an open stretch of water, some thirty feet between me and the patch of sandy shore along the bank.

Nothing for it, then. I plunge into the water in a dive.

It’s been a while since I had to swim. The lessons one of the royal tutors gave me and my sister in the Muran River back in Accasy rise up as if they were only yesterday. My arms sweep through the current; my legs plow through the water with forceful kicks.

I could have made it to the pines farther down even without Bastien’s help, but that’s not where I need to go.

The current drags at my dress, and I’m more grateful than ever for the airiness of the fabric that only weighs down my limbs a little. Strands of something farther below snatch at my ankles, but I kick them away.

My lungs ache, and my muscles throb.

Almost there. Fifteen more feet. Ten.

Five, and my shoes hit the murky bottom.

I shove myself upright and slosh through the shallows to the narrow beach.

I haven’t had any attention to spare my remaining competitor. Now, I notice Leonette surging out of the river just paces away.

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