Page 158 of Dragon Slayer

But his heart thudded too hard in his chest, and anxiety crawled across his skin like insects.

It wasn’t enough. Vladislav was coming, and he was only seventeen, and he had too few troops, and no allies in the region, and–

A hand landed on his shoulder, light, unobtrusive. Malik’s face, when Vlad turned to look at it, was unusually kind. “What?”

“I just wanted to say, your grace, speaking as someone with – forgive me – a fair amount of war experience more than you – that there is no shame in standing down, if that’s what it comes to.”

Mother had told him the same thing. Doubtless Father would agree, given his record of surrender and appeasement. Logically, he knew that there was honor in retreating, in surrendering, especially when it was done to prevent one’s people from being slaughtered.

But his jaw tightened, and his pulse elevated another notch. “This seat is my birthright. Those are my people down there.” He motioned to the city, the glazing of shiny frost on the rooftops. “I can’t…” He trailed off. The weight of it crushed him.

Malik squeezed once, comforting, and let go. “Just an observation, your grace. We are with you.”

Three days before Christmas, the scout arrived. A wild-eyed boy atop a winded, lathered horse. “An army, your grace!” he shouted, hysterical, as he slipped to the ground and nearly fell. “Thousands!”

Vlad went to the top of the wall, but of course he couldn’t see them yet. They were still miles away.

Eira joined him, dressed for battle – or for travel.

The awful tug in his guts told him he’d already made his choice.

“Mama,” he said, helpless, turning to her, and she touched his face. Cupped his cheek in one small, strong hand.

“Oh, baby. I know,” she murmured. “It’s alright.”

“I should fight. Ipromisedto.”

“Darling.” She smoothed his hair. “They are too many. We can’t win.”

“Are you telling me to flee?” Shame made his stomach hurt.

“I’m telling you tolive. This isn’t the time for your fight. Be patient – you have forever.”

But itwasfleeing. And it shamed him, badly.

He took his troops, and what was left of his family, and he bid a momentary adieu to his childhood home.

He paused, at the crest of the last hill, and looked back, though he knew he shouldn’t. There was the city, and above it, perched pale and regal on the hill, the palace that he hadn’t been able to hold.

His heart clenched.

I’ll come back, he promised, and hoped it was a vow that he could keep.

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