Page 90 of House of Embers
Fordham lifted his hand to wave at the thousands of subjects that were now entirely his responsibility. Kerrigan lifted her hand as well. She knew they did not hate her after her fight, her show of force by using shadow jumping, but she was not prepared for their roar ofapproval at their union. Maybe a wedding would be possible now that the coronation was over.
It all felt like just one step on a very long road.
“Do I deserve this?” Fordham asked as he stared down from the mountain.
“To be king? Yes.”
“When Prescott was killed due to my own folly.”
“Prescott was killed because of Barron Laurent.”
Fordham sighed. “Because he discovered that he was working for me.”
“We always knew it was a risk.”
“Doesn’t make it better.”
“No,” she agreed. “It doesn’t. I wish that we did not have to put our friends and family in danger to win this war, but it is a war we are waging.”
Fordham nodded. “I know. And good people die in war. I have lived it many times. I know I would not trade the outcome for your death, but it feels like the curse is circling ever closer, despite what Titania told us.” His face was grave as he clenched his jaw. “My mother, my father, Dacia, Arbor, and now Prescott—my whole family is perishing. If Wynter…”
“That won’t happen,” she told him.
“You cannot promise her safety. Nor yours.” Fordham’s gaze cut to her. “Wynter is going to bond a dragon. We both know it. As soon as this coronation is over, I’m sending our greatest fighters to see if a dragon will bond them, and Wynter will be one of them. She is in as much danger as ever.”
“You cannot keep us all safe. The world is not safe. We are fighting for a better tomorrow.”
“And how will we do that when even the bonding is a death sentence or a curse?”
Kerrigan frowned. “I did have a thought about that.”
He huffed out a sardonic laugh. “Tell me it’s a safe thought.”
“When I saw the memory from Ferrinix, it said that the metal crown bestowed the curse on the rider bonds from the magic of He Who Reigns.” Kerrigan bit her lip before adding, “And if we find the crown once more, I might be able to use the same magic to change it.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
The Command
Isa
Isa wanted to die.
She had never been suicidal. Nor had she ever been dramatic. So when she thought the words, she meant them—death would be preferable to this.
She had always been an assassin. A carefully honed killer that the Father had utilized to keep himself aloft. One that could walk through noble circles as easily as hide in the shadows. She was beautiful enough to mesmerize men as she slipped them poison and could disappear just as quickly after a knife in the back.
It had been her joy and pleasure to craft her various instruments to her ends. That joy had been demolished with the collar at her throat.
Her choices were no longer her own.
Her methods were no longer her own.
Her kills were no longer her own.
Now they all belonged to this collar and the Father.
A few whispered words were all he needed before he cast her at his enemies. Nothing better than a sharpened blade as she was thrustinto danger. Her instincts would kick in, barely keeping her from being caught as she murdered people in cold blood. Sometimes, she wasn’t even that lucky. The compulsion of the collar was so strong that she would kill anyone who was nearby as well.
