ChapterFifty-Three
ANNORA
Jude rides next to me,carrying the white banner of peace. It flutters in the dry desert wind as we slip through the city gates of Sharhavva and out into the barren dunes beyond.
Jasce didn’t want me to go. I felt it in the way he held me close. Saw it in the way his eyes followed me as I mounted Scarlet. Heard it in his voice when he issued a quick command for Jude to bring me back to him unharmed.
My hands shake as I adjust my veil and follow Jude through the dunes. Even though Jasce isn’t pleased, I know this is the right thing to do—speaking to Asha before she attacks Sharhavva.
Mazaline said I am going to reunite our houses. Maybe this is what she meant by that.
We ride in tense silence in the direction the scouts indicated Asha is camped with her army, the hooves of our horses kicking up small clouds of red dust with each step.
My heart hammers harder and harder in my chest the closer we get. A million doubts and fears race through my mind. Will Asha be happy to see me? Or will she refuse to speak with me?
I fidget with the seashell pendant around my neck as we approach a valley filled with a sea of tents stretching as far as the eye can see.
A wave of anxiety crashes over me as I glance over at Jude, but he appears relaxed, riding beside me with a loose grip on his horse’s reins.
As we reach the edges of the sprawling encampment, two of Asha’s guards halt our progress. “State your purpose,” one of them demands.
Jude raises the white banner higher. “We come in peace,” he declares, his voice steady and clear. “Lady Annora seeks an audience with her sister, General Asha.”
The guards exchange a quick look, then the taller of the two nods. “We will take you to her.”
We dismount our horses and follow the guards through the camp. Soldiers mill about, some tending to weapons and armor, others gathered around fires cooking meals. Makeshift corrals hold hundreds of mounts, their whinnies and snorts mixing with the din of clashing steel as men train and spar.
The guards halt before a tent in the heart of the encampment. Commander Titanus looms at the entrance, his imposing figure blocking our path. His gaze rakes over me, scrutinizing every detail. I stand a little straighter, willing my spine to turn to steel. My hands tremble at my sides, but I curl them into fists, determined not to show any weakness.
“I request an audience with Asha.” I hold Commander Titanus’ stare, refusing to look away first.
After a moment, he nods and sweeps the tent flap open. I step inside with Jude next to me.
Asha sits behind her desk, watching me as I approach. My heart quickens at the sight of her. She looks every inch the sister I have known all my life. Yet, there are subtle differences. The fire in her gaze burns brighter, more intense than I remember.
“Well, look what the wind blew in,” Asha says, her voice as sharp as a blade’s edge. “The prodigal sister returns.”
I fight the overwhelming urge to run into her arms, to feel her embrace after so long apart. But I stand my ground. “Ash. It’s good to see you.”
“I wish I could say the same.” She glances at Jude and scours him with a frosty glare. “And you’ve brought a crimson as an escort. My, how far you’ve fallen, little sister.”
I glance at Jude, silently begging him not to take offense. To his credit, his face remains neutral.
I turn back to Asha. “He’s here under a banner of truce. As am I.”
Her eyes rake over my face, my body, scrutinizing every detail, as if searching for a flaw in my armor. “There are not enough banners in the world to undo what you’ve done. Leaving us. Marrying our enemy.” She grips the hilt of her sword, her fingers curling around the leather, tighter and tighter until her knuckles turn white. “You have betrayed our house.”
My insides twist, and my stomach coils with pain. I wasn’t trying to betray anything. I was just trying to live. To thrive. To understand my magic.
My voice shakes as I tell the truth, the words stabbing my throat like thorns. “I did what I must to survive.”
“Survive?” Asha lets out a brittle laugh. “I’d rather die with honor than live as a crimson’s whore.”
The words slice into my soul, shredding it to ribbons as I look down, blinking back the hot sting of tears.
Asha doesn’t make me cry. Asha soothes my pain.
“I’m giving you one chance. Leave your husband and come home. Help us regain our birthright.” She leans forward, locking her eyes with mine, the intensity in them searing my very soul. “Together, we can lay waste to Sharhavva.”
