Chapter 3

SERILDA

Of the three, Joren’s exit was the messiest.

Because I'd gone crying to my father, Nerysah had nearly been banished from the Summer Court.

An outsider at court had no bloodline and no one to protect her. One word from the king, and she'd be escorted over the border.

So Joren, without a word to anyone, accepted a Frostline Hunt commission from the Knights' Order. Everyone knew it was as good as a death sentence.

He bet his own slim odds of coming back alive so that Nerysah and Moren could stay.

The last look he gave me, the day he left, was cold enough to cut.

"I was a fool."

"The biggest regret of my life is that I ever put you on a pedestal."

I didn't understand.

They were the ones who'd betrayed me first. So how could they stand there acting like they had the high ground?

Now, with his hand around my throat, I clawed at his wrist, but my strength was draining away little by little.

My eyes streamed. It wasn't crying. It was just my body fighting for air.

When I finally lifted my gaze to his, there was nothing left in it but a gray, hollow emptiness.

Joren's pupils shrank to pinpoints.

"Joren!"

He flinched, looked at me, saw how close I was to blacking out, and let go.

I hit the floor hard.

I curled over on myself, coughing so hard I thought my lungs would come up.

Orian rushed to my side.

He'd only just started to gather me into his arms when Nerysah, woken by all the noise, pushed open the door to the back room.

He let go on instinct and pushed me a few inches away.

I rolled backward across the floor. Pain buzzed through every part of me.

Finnian, who'd come out behind her, took a half step toward me on reflex. Then, for some reason, he stopped where he was.

Joren looked at Orian and raised an eyebrow.

"Weren't you the one who swore you'd watch over Sera for the rest of your life? What are you doing here?"

Then understanding dawned, and a cruel smile spread across his face.

"Oh… so you couldn't stand her either!"

"Guess the three of us really are meant to be. We always fall for the same woman."

His gaze dropped to me, sprawled on the floor, and he sneered.

Orian's eyes had gone dark.

When they met mine, pleading with him, he was silent for a moment. Then he turned his head away.

I forgot how to breathe.

I couldn't move.

"Your arm… is it all right?"

It was Nerysah who spoke.

Only then did anyone notice my forearm.

It was an angry, shocking red, already rising into a cluster of blisters.

All three of my former consorts were waiting for me to sob and throw a fit. I could see it in their faces. But I said nothing. I pushed myself off the floor and got up on my own.

Then I looked up, dazed, at Nerysah.

Her eyes curved with her smile, soft as still water.

The dark petals behind her ears trembled with every breath, and a sweet, heavy fragrance drifted toward me, thick enough to make my head swim.

People said that even on scorched earth, cracked by the sun where nothing would grow, she could make flowers bloom and fruit ripen again.

In this whole court, I was probably the only one who didn't love her…

Maybe I was acting too strangely, because Nerysah patted the sniffling boy in her arms.

"Moren, sweetheart, when we do something wrong, we say sorry. Can you say sorry to Her Highness for me?"

Moren buried his face against her and wouldn't make a sound.

Nerysah gave me a helpless little smile.

"He's so young, and he's had a fright. Please, let me apologize for him. I have a very good salve for burns. I'll go get it."

"No."

Every eye in the room turned to me.

"I want him to apologize."

Nerysah's smile faded. A small frown creased her brow.

"He's only a child. If we push him right now, I'm afraid—"

"Apologize."

"Serilda!"

Joren's voice cracked like a whip. He stepped in front of Nerysah and the boy, his face like thunder.

"You're really going to pick a fight with a kid? Nerysah already said sorry. Are you not happy until you make him cry?"

Finnian said nothing, but the deep crease between his brows said plenty.

Even Orian gave a small shake of his head.

Three men who had once been mine, all standing against me. For another woman's child.

Nerysah tugged gently at Joren's sleeve.

She bent and murmured something to the boy, and only then did Moren turn his head and mumble:

"…Sorry."

Muffled. Sulky. As grudging as it could possibly be.

Even so, the three knights still looked grim.

Nerysah's face was full of apology.

"Your Highness, he's said he's sorry. Burns shouldn't wait. Please, let me treat it for you."

She turned to go fetch the salve.

But my knees went weak—I could barely stand.

"Don't bother."

I said it quickly, and without waiting for anyone to answer, I pulled the door shut on all of them and stumbled out into the glare of the gloaming light.