Page 94 of Bloodguard

I run, snagging my cloak as I practically leap through the terrace doors.

But Leith is gone.

Along the perimeter of the rear lawn, there’s only the chorus of twilight owls and moonlight doves who flap their wings to add to their song. I race through the dark, my heart aching when I catch sight of the bench where Papa, Father, Giselle, and I used to sit and watch the sunset, each of us taking turns telling a story. My throat pricks as I hope that one day we will all sit on that long wooden bench again so Papa and Father can share their stories with their grandbabies.

My hair flies behind me as I run faster, toward the cottage. When I catch up to him, Leith is already past the blood orange lilies, their petals squeezed tight as they sleep, awaiting dawn. I stumble to a stop, the chill of the night cooling my lungs as I take long, deep breaths.

Leith takes me in, his stance rod straight and his grip tight over the hilt of his sword.

The petals along the starfire wisteria draping the weeping willow to my right open and close beneath the stars, releasing their tangy perfume and sweet nectar in drips that splatter along the ferns.

“What’s wrong, Maeve?” he asks.

“They’re all lies,” I say.

He cocks his head. “What?”

It’s one thing to know it and quite another to speak it aloud, especially in front of someone who I’d like to see me as his equal. “The power and influence I supposedly have as the princess are lies,” I say.

He brushes my windblown hair behind my shoulders.

“I’m disturbed by Soro’s sudden need to have me as his queen,” I admit.

“I am, too,” Leith agrees. Ah, and there’s that rage again, simmering at the surface.

He watches me as I take his hands. “There’s more,” I say. “As much as I stubbornly believed that when I am queen, Vitor must heed me, he won’t. To him, I’ll always be a child.”

“He will heed you if he wants to keep his head firmly on his shoulders,” Leith says.

“I can’t kill him for the same reason I know he won’t kill me.” I stare at our clasped hands. “He loves me as I love him. He’s Uncle Vitor, the same man who used to carry and fret over me as his own.”

“Vitorwouldkill you, Maeve, even if he loved you, if he saw you as a threat to his station. You know that, don’t you?” Leith shakes his head. “He talked of my family, even as he spoke of threats at the borders…”

I frown.

“He knows, Maeve. The elf is not daft. He was…feeling me out. He sees me as the threat that I am, and he’ll either come after me in the arena or make sure that I never fight another match.”

He does know. I hadn’t fully thought about the dangers to Leith outside the arena, should Vitor realize my plan… How on Erth hadn’t I realized this sooner?

My whole plan centers on Leith surviving the arena and becoming a Bloodguard.

He rakes a hand through his hair, the strands falling back in place to frame his face. Stars, he’s beautiful. And strong. And good.

“We come back to the same two options,” he tells me.

“And they are?”

“I kill Vitor and Soro. Or you wind up marrying one of them.”

I swallow hard. “Or we free Papa. He’s innocent. If I can prove that, Vitor must relinquish the throne.”

“And do you think Arrow would actually embrace him?”

No. I’m not sure they would. Even exonerated…he’s not fit to lead.

“Probably not,” I acknowledge, wishing I didn’t have to. “But maybe it will buy us some time.”

I wonder what he’s thinking. What he’s feeling.

---