Page 116 of Bloodguard

I nod. The guilt of hiding this secret has ravaged me. And ever since Father told me Papa killed his own mother, I barely sleep or eat anymore. Bad dreams—that’s my big excuse for the mess I’ve become.

“Gladiator,” Caelen calls. “We haven’t much time.”

Leith kisses me, caressing my face gently. “Two more matches,” he reminds me.

“Two more,” I say. “Don’t forget—there’s supposed to be fire. Lots of it. The guard I spoke to warns that it’s crucial you don’t engage your opponent directly. Even he seemed scared of whatever they have planned for you.”

“What of the weapons?” he asks.

“He kept the ones I intended for your previous matches and promised to sneak as many into the arena as he can.”

He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Thank you.”

“Leith,” Caelen says. “If we’re late…”

Still, Leith takes a moment to embrace me tightly.

It’s only when I force a weak smile that he finally releases me.

I watch him and Caelen trot away on their moon horses. Caelen tosses his braids behind him as he looks back at me, his features troubled. I suspect he’s heard of the fire at the aviary by now.

I wonder if he’s figured out the full extent of it.

I should be riding with Leith, and it annoys me that I’m not, but the fewer who know about us, the better. And the less likely it is that Soro’s hand will be forced.

My stomach rumbles, but the thought of food makes me nauseous. And forget how terrified I’ll be seeing Leith go through whatever those monsters have designed for him.

Father and Giselle plan to see Papa after the match, unless I need help with Leith. I’d love to see Papa, too. If Leith fares well, maybe we both could visit him. And maybe, just maybe, I can somehow get Papa to tell me what happened. Or at least possibly admit his guilt. Could I maybe believe it then?

“Hello, Maeve.”

I startle.

Soro is here.

In my cottage.

Dear sun above, where the hell did he come from?

I take several steps back. “What are you doing here?”

He’s leaning against the counter as if he has all the time in the world. His gaze takes in the whole room, including Leith’s clothes and mine tossed all over the place.

My face heats.

“Why do you think I’m here, Maeve?” His thin lips press into a line. “You’re nearly twenty-one. I’m here to marry you before Vitor convinces you that someone else would make a better king.”

“Come now, Soro. I’d think Vitor would welcome any delays. He remains Regent of Arrow, and you continue to lead as High General. I can’t imagine that Vitor wouldeverwant the status quo to change.”

My reasoning seems to strike a chord. But Soro doesn’t look wholly convinced. “No?” He taps his chin. “Vitor has taken a liking to your gladiator…”

He’s referring to his father as Vitor again. It’s not a good sign.

Soro drums his fingers along the edge of the counter, posing as if he’s relaxed even as his gaze fixes on mine. “You know what he told me just last night?”

His peculiar calmness unnerves me more than any mood I’ve ever seen him in. “Soro, tell me what you’re doing here.”

He ignores me. “He told me, his son, his general, the lord at his side, the constant in his life, that I don’t deserve the throne.” His laugh carries enough bitterness to taste. “Vitor actually said that should something happen to him, some uneducated brute could lead Arrow better than I ever could.”

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