Page 43 of The Enemy's Daughter

I don’t answer.

“It can’t be about attraction. He’s gorgeous. Don’t deny it.”

“I...” I stop myself from admitting anything to her. But she’s right. Attraction to Tristan would come easily if I let it. I decide to go with the safest answer. The only one that matters. “I’m betrothed to someone else.”

Disbelief flashes on her face before she snorts. “How is that still a thing? Is there anything the clans do that isn’t antiquated?”

I refuse to take it as an insult—possibly because I recall feeling the same way.

“Helping you would be an act of treason, and I could be severely punished,” she says, lowering her voice even more.

That may be the only thing our people have in common. Although I doubt she’ll be burned to death if she’s caught.

“If you change your mind and fully connect with Tristan, he’ll know what I did. Then everyone will know. Helping you could ruin my life.”

“Or, it could give you the life you’ve always dreamed of. A chance with Tristan.” I nearly gag on the words, and I don’t know why. But it doesn’t matter. If she needs hope to take on this kind of risk, then I’ll give it to her.

She looks away. “He’s in love with you.”

My stomach flutters with something I struggle to hold back. “I assure you, he’s not.”

Her face turns skeptical. “He’ll come after you. Especially the longer you stay. Okay, give me a day or two to think about it.”

“No, that’s too long.”

“Then feel free to do it all on your own,” she snaps.

I would if I could. “Listen, the plan is really simple—we only need a border guard to open the gate and look the other way. Do you know one we can trust?”

She goes quiet as she thinks. “Yes.”

I exhale.

“But I’ll need time to talk to him and figure out when would be our best chance to do it.”

“Okay,” I say, feeling hope return.

“Okay,” she says back. Then we tentatively grin at each other, and it feels like some of the animosity between us bleeds away.

15

Morning sunlight blinds me as Enola pulls back the curtains.

She pauses in the middle of the room, lips pressed into a thin line. “I need you to put on a dress and come with me... to Farron’s funeral.”

I blink. “What? Why?”

“Because...” She hands me a cup of tea. “It’s the right thing to do.”

That’s debatable. “I can’t. I—I’m still not well, not to mention the people there will likely stone me to death before I reach the front step.” My brows furrow. I’ve only been here days, but it wouldn’t matter if it had been years. The Kingsland people here will never accept me. “I thought we were good. This seems like a trap.”

Enola smiles like I made a joke.

I very much did not.

“Oh, hush. I’ll do the heavy lifting of getting you ready; all you’ll have to do is sit. And there isn’t a person in this town who would hurt you on my watch.”

“But we both agree theywouldhurt me if they could.”

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