Page 94 of Steel Heart Iron Claws

She couldn’t be more wrong.

I didn’t crawl across kingdoms to walk away now. She’s mine—and I’m not leaving without her.

Chapter 26

Sabine

Ipace so long in front of my bedroom fireplace that the thick rug looks more like a game trail. All night, I’ve thought of nothing but Basten’s face when he saw me reveling with the fae…reveling with thatass, Artain.

It…wasn’t my finest moment.

Basten’s anger at me was palpable. The metallic rattle from when he jerked his shackles still echoes between my ears. Those terrible words aimed at me:You ruined my life.I can only imagine the nightmare that the Valveres have spun me into, filling his missing memories with poison about the traitorous princess.

And what did I do?

Prove those vipers right at first glance.

He musthateme.

If only I’d been free to explain to Basten that the Meden Cup was just a game. I was pretending. The way to stay safe here is to play along, make them trust me.

I flop onto the battered rug and sink my faceinto my hands. Oh, but who am I kidding? It wasn’t pretend. No matter how badly I wish it were.

Ever since I arrived in Norhelm, it’s been like a lantern switched on. Something about Volkany sings to me. For the first time in my life, my every move hasn’t been watched. Judged. No one cares what I wear or how I style my hair. I can drink two bottles of plum wine and be cheered on for it instead of reprimanded.

Is it only about the freedom to sin? Hell, I was locked in a convent for twelve years, so I’m due a chance to blow off a little steam. But, no. If it was only debauchery I was after, I could have gotten my fill of that in Duren. The same goes for luxuries: for all his faults, Rian was beyond generous. Likewise, the riches my father lavishes on me are only baubles.

I think…it’s the taste ofpowerthat bewitches me.

The raw potential.

Here, I’m brushing shoulders with the gods. Ancient beings who—let’s face it, are far from perfect—but can bring death upon a room, trap a memory, and turn day to night.

Sighing, I slide off Basten’s twine ring and hold it up to the moonlight, twirling it slowly.

Tattered. Misshapen.Perfect.

“I never took it off,” I whisper.

Is Basten perfect? No, but he’s perfect for me.And I won’t let him go.

Slipping the ring back on my finger, I call softly,Are you there, friend?

It isn’t long before a pink nose pokes out from the loose chimney bricks. The forest mouse emerges and scampers onto my knee.You did not sleep all night. Though it is still dark, my stomach tells me it is breakfast time.

That’s Samaur’s doing,I explain.The sun won’t rise all day. The darkness may help me, though—I need you to tell me how many guards are stationed in the hallway.

The mouse trains her beady eyes on me like a disapproving governess.What are you planning?

Please, do this favor for me.I wrinkle my nose and hope it looks endearing.And also pick the lock while you’re at it?

She puffs out an exasperated burst of air but climbs down my leg, tackles the tasks, and returns promptly.

Two guards at the door, she reports.Two more at the end of the hallway.

Thank you—now get some sleep yourself, my friend.I push to my feet determinedly and drag my desk’s wooden stool to the tall armoire.

The armoire's top is adorned with detailed wooden carvings resembling vines. The maids are diligent in dusting, but they tend to overlook this spot, which is clotted with spiderwebs.

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