Page 91 of The Enemy's Daughter

“But you won instead.”

Liam gives me a look to remind me that technically he didn’t win. “Gerald threatened to go rogue almost immediately but changed his tune when you went missing. He argued that with no marriage to seal the succession, it couldn’t be delayed years or decades until after the Saraf died. Your father needed to makemeSaraf now—unlesshe agreed with Gerald that I wasn’t the one who killed Farron. Your father’s choice: retire as Saraf on the spot or call my win invalid and revoke our betrothal. Hours later, a new contest was announced—the clan leader challenge was to bring you back alive. Winner would again be named Saraf after your father’s death and given your hand in marriage.”

“And you didn’t object?”

“I couldn’t. Gerald has something like seventy-five trained men; that’s double, in some cases triple, the size of the smaller clans. There was nothing the two dozen carpenters and loggers of Cohdor could do. There’s also the fact that Gerald was right—it wasn’t me who stabbed Farron Banks.” He exhales. “Finding you was already all I could think about, so I just threw myself into that.”

“You won again,” I say in amazement.

“Yes. More fairly than last time.” He frowns before continuing. “But a few nights before we found you, two of your father’s men were murdered. A witness said it was Maska, then recanted. Things are heating up, and now that I’ve won the position of Saraf again, Gerald is going to be a problem.”

So it wasn’t my marriage that would unite the five clans in a peaceful succession. It was my marriage to Gerald and him becoming the next Saraf that would quiet the revolt—which had to be done through a contest, so no clan leader could object. Liam was never supposed to win. That’s why Father picked a weak proxy, and not Percy, to represent Hanook. Anger that I was such a willing puppet for Father crawls through my veins.

I see now that Liamhadto “rescue” me from Kingsland or another clan leader would have. But bringing me back while married to Tristan was ensuring my death. Liamwasprotecting me. It doesn’t make what he did okay, but it does offer an explanation beyond his jealousy.

Maybe he hasn’t completely changed.

“Liam, I need to tell you something. The people in Kingsland are nothing like we’ve been led to believe. They’re not barbarians, and they have luxuries we don’t have—you saw.” Some part of this resonates with him. I see it in his eyes. “But that was from the old world, and they’ve tried to share with us, except we rejected them. They’re also civilized.” Annette flashes in my mind. Okay, maybe not all of them. “Did you know they’ve never attacked first and deny killing on our land. They’ve never even heard of the first slaughter. What does that tell you?”

“That you’ve been lied to.” His face is a mask of disappointment that I’d be so gullible.

Skies, I need more proof. “Liam, they think we’re the aggressor and that my father just wants what they have.”

“Aggressor.” Liam scoffs. “We’ve attacked them, but only in small, calculated ways. Like how we got you out. The worst I’ve heard about was when some Maska damaged that old-world structure they have on the river. But it’s only a fraction of what they do to us. You know that. And until yesterday, we’ve never even gone through their fence. Your father forbade it.”

“So you did know about the fence. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why would I?” He sighs at my hurt expression. “I can’t tell you everything, Isadora. You’re a woman; we need to protect you. You know that’s the Saraf’s way.”

But I don’t feel protected. I feel excluded from something I really should have known.

Liam continues. “And as far as looting, we’ve learned the hard way that their stuff is poisoned and booby-trapped. No one’sallowedto take anything home.”

What? Was Tristan wrong in thinking that the purpose of the clans’ attack is to steal?

“What about the attacks on us on our land—how do you know it was Kingsland? Have you seen any of them attack us with yourowneyes? It could be vagabonds.”

“The other day I caught them ready to attack outside Hanook.”

I sigh. He’s talking about Tristan’s surveillance. “No. Before that?”

His jaw clenches at me dismissing him. “Isadora...”

But then my heart drops to my toes with an idea I haven’t considered before. “Or maybe itwasKingsland, just not them as a whole. What if it’s only one soldier working on his own?” Someonetrying to avenge aneye for an eye.

Like Samuel? Blazing sun, a solitary attacker would explain why our soldiers have only ever been picked off one at a time. I think of Samuel’s temper. His unrepentance after shooting me with a poisoned arrow. He’s even threatened to kill me twice since then. No doubt he’s violent, but is he deranged enough to attack the clans on his own?

Liam looks skeptical and maybe a little concerned at my rebellious speculations. But what I want to know is where he stands. “Liam, what do you hope happens to the clans? Kingsland?”

His eyes go distant. “I don’t want war. With the Maska clan or the Kingsland. I want the life we dreamed of.”

It’s hard to believe, since he certainly didn’t defuse anything by what he did in Kingsland. But again, I remind myself that Father commanded the clan leaders to come for me. “Then we need to let Tristan and Henshaw go.”

“No,” Liam says, leaving no room for debate. “Your father would never allow it.”

And Liam isn’t going to disobey the Saraf.

Looking into the trees, I weigh my options. Maybe Liam isn’t the person I need to be talking to—it should be my father. Everything seems to begin and end with him.

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