Page 83 of Fate's Sweetest Curse
Noble turned toward his father next, bowing quickly at the waist as was customary when greeting a general. Kalden remained stone-still, staring down his strong nose, his square jaw set. His gaze was as heavy as a mountain on Noble’s shoulders, more oppressive than the day’s heat.
Until it lifted over Noble’s shoulder to land on another face in the crowd.
Noble couldn’t help but look back to see where his father’s attention had gone. An acrid, jealous anguish seared through his veins when he spotted Brendan Harrow not far behind him in the procession. Brendan had continued to train with Kalden into young adulthood, taking pleasure in always being one step ahead of Noble in skill, loyalty, and bootlicking.
Under Kalden’s gaze, Brendan’s expression was confident, smug—but when he noticed Noble staring, the fuckergrinned.
Noble faced ahead again, waiting for his father’s nod to proceed.
When it came, he didn’t linger; he swiveled to face the podium.
The Ledger of the Mighty was bound in faded umber leather. Splayed open atop the podium, it was thick as a mattress, the paper old and brittle. Noble could see the arcane writing on the fresh page, only nine names out of forty men and women who’d recited the Oath this afternoon.
Noble offered the ledgermaster an acknowledging nod, then lowered himself to his knees and tucked his chin. Sweat trailed down his temple, slid along his jaw, and dripped from his chin onto the stone—yet in spite of the heat, he shivered. Since the moment Noble was born—perhaps even before—Kalden had dreamed of his son following in his Mighty footsteps. This was the culminating moment. Noble’s chance to prove that he was worthy of his father’s pride.
And he was as ready for the commitment as he’d ever be.
Hattie had been gone for ten months, and in that time, Noble had done nothing but read and train—anythingto keep his mind off her absence. He was faster, stronger, and more determined than ever. It was high time Noble step into the future his father always intended for him.
Noble cleared his throat and began: “I, Noble Asheren, hereby offer myself to the Oath of the Order of the Mighty, the King, and Kingdom of Marona.” Noble spoke slowly and clearly, allowing his voice to carry through the grounds. “I pledge my life to the protection of the realm and the safe keeping its citizens, secrets, and sovereignty. I will not stray from my duty; I will not falter from the Mighty path. I bear my charge with honor, compliance, and bravery. For the good of the realm, I am bound.”
Noble paused. The next part of the Oath was the vow that would seal his future: his promise that he’d hold nothing in higher regard than his duty. If he was false in that claim—if in the deepest part of his heart, he knew hecouldn’tfavor the Mighty over all else he loved—the ledger would rejectNoble’s bid.
When you make your vow, clear your mind of all but the sacred honor of serving your kingdom, Kalden had advised Noble the night before.Think only ofyour love for the realm.
Staring at the gritty stone beneath his knees, freckled with his sweat, Noble breathed deeply, filling his chest. He willed his voice not to quaver as he continued: “I vow to hold nothing in higher regard than the sacred honor of my Oath and Order. By the Fates and the arcane power of this Oath, I swear fealty to the great realm of the Seven Territories of the Kingdom of Marona, never to forsake my duty except in the honorable retirement of my Oath or death.”
As he spoke the words, he envisioned the entire continent, from the eastern shores of Orhal to the Western Wood of Fenrir. He imagined the majestic rolling hills of the central territory of Marona and the colorful sprawl of its capital. He imagined the three-hundred-foot plateau overlooking the city, and the castle built into the stone. He imagined the river that gushed past the fortress into a magnificent waterfall, and the bridge that spanned the waters that led to its perilous drop.
Fate’s Landing.
The moment the bridge entered his mind, so, too, did a memory.
Hattie stood by the marble railing in a scarlet dress, its hem fluttering against her shins. She was laughing at a joke he’d made, the sound lost to the roar of the falls. They were shrouded in a haze of mist, delirious with the exhilaration of such close proximity to the water’s force. But the thing that thrilled Noble most was the way she’d abruptly sobered, stared into his eyes, and said,I’m in love with you.
Deep down, Noble’s unavoidable truth was this: nothing in the world made his heart feel as full as Hattie’s presence—not even the realm.
So, when Noble—kneeling before the ledger, his father, and the king—tasted the bitter rejection of the Oath in the back of his throat…he wasn’t even surprised.
But hewasashamed.
The magnitude of it came on slowly, like the cracking of ice on a distant mountainside. Kalden Asheren’s son,failingthe Oath of the Order of the Mighty. For a moment, Noble forgot to breathe. As a shocked silence swept across the grounds, he wasburiedby the avalanche of his father’s crumbling expectations.
His mother’s delayed gasp shook him from his stupor. Whispers swept through the crowd. Noble looked up, directly into the eyes of his father. Kalden appeared neither pained nor angry; his face was hard and blank as granite.Crushing.
What happened after that was a blur.
Noble rose to his feet and left the dais, lingering only long enough to watch Brendan’s triumphant bid and Kalden’s proud grin—a grin Noble had never seen on his father’s face before. Then, after the ceremony, the argument: his father’s fury, his mother’s tearful pleas for Kalden to have compassion, and the ringing in Noble’s ears as he packed up his things and left Castle Wynhaim for good.
Not knowing where else to go, Noble had traveled west into Fenrir Territory. He’d considered seeking Hattie out in Poe-on-Wend, desperate to know how her new life was treating her—but Noble had already put her in enough danger. The king himself had demanded no one contact her.
He went to Fenrir City instead. In the days following, he met an Adept of the Order of the Arcane who was in search of would-be knights for an experimental Order under the Lord of Fenrir’s banner. There were promises of superior strength and glory, and Noble hadn’tthought—he’d simply joined.
Becoming a Knight of the Order of the Morta was just one mistake in a long series of failures.
Failing Hattie by breaking her heart on that bridge.
Failing to contain the rumors about her father that ultimately forced her away.
