Page 83 of Bloodguard

I hear whispers of “Bloodguard.”

It won’t be long before they all recognize Leith.

“Can you go to Father?” I clasp Leith’s hands. “Tell him to meet me at the castle to accompany me home.”

Leith nods, and with one long look at Uni, he takes off in the opposite direction, away from the crowd. The moment he clears the heavier throngs, he breaks into a run.

I know how much that must hurt him.

“What can we do, Princess?” Uni asks.

I see so many familiar faces. Stasia, the seleno fairy, and Gabi, the guapilla who works at her tavern, eye me expectantly. There are others, too, who I’ve known or treated.

“Tell us,” Uni says.

“Sing. Please sing,” I say. “The Anthem of Arrow.”

I take Uni’s hand and Stasia’s, and we step into the now-empty path of the parade.

The rest of the friends and townsfolk, the merchants and off-duty guards, the faces known to me and those who simply sense my sincerity—they fall in line behind us.

The crowd grows.

The crowd sings.

I walk onward. Though we are last and the parade has progressed ahead, our numbers expand. The onlookers pause, and when they see me, people from all classes of Arrow fall into line and join me.

What begins as a handful of friends merges into dozens, then hundreds of bodies, large and small, young and old.

We are not the color of any one house, but many.

My heart has never been more full.

We continue up the streets, more and more citizens of Arrow joining along. As we turn onto the main road, I see the lanterns lining the bridge, the purple haze of magic in the sky as Aisling and other mages from Damella join Soro on the parapet walls. And there, at the gates to the castle, is Vitor.

He sits upon my grandmother’s throne.

I have never seen the huge seat moved from its place in the palace, let alone lifted and carried along like some mobile stage for the monarchy.

Vitor arches a brow.

He instructs his guards to lower the throne, and he leaps to the ground.

I don’t pause.

I lead my people along the street to the bridgeway. The crowd parts, creating a gap for me to walk through as the other assembled persons and houses turn to see what’s happening.

The singing quiets.

Vitor reaches me, and his expression is indecipherable.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you in the procession, Lord Regent,” I say.

“Nor I you.”

He told me he would remain in the castle to coordinate the night-sky display. There was no mention of him parading himself on a throne through Arrow’s city streets.

Vitor takes my hand and lifts it. He escorts me forward, all the way up to the gates, until we’re standing in front of Arrow’s seat of power.

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