Horror floods through me at the very thought, chilling my blood to ice. Leave Jasce? Kill his people? His family? The mere idea is unfathomable, a betrayal of everything I hold dear.
“Well?” Asha’s eyes blaze with a fervor that borders on madness. “Are you silver or crimson?”
My mouth goes dry as I glance between her and Jude. She’s made my choice clear—betray my heart or my blood.
Either way, I lose.
“I...” My voice falters.
Asha’s lips tighten into a thin line. “Yes?”
I suck in a breath as Jude places his hand on my arm.
“Annora and my brother are married,” he says, “but there are other paths to peace.”
The grooves near Asha’s mouth tighten as she scowls at him. “How like a crimson to speak of peace while surrounded by an army.”
He stands his ground, neither flinching nor cowering before Asha’s fury. “Violence will only breed more violence,” he says, his gaze unwavering. “If we walk that path, the bloodshed will never end.”
In a flash of silver, Asha rises from her chair and draws her sword. My heart leaps into my throat, but Jude still doesn’t budge.
“Take one more step,general,” he says, his words even and controlled, yet a quiet threat hums beneath the surface, “and you make an enemy of House of Crimson.”
The moment stretches, taut and endless, as I hold my breath, waiting for the world to shatter. But after what feels like an eternity, Asha lowers her sword. “You men from House of Crimson are all the same. Weak-willed and cowardly, just like your father.”
I flinch at the cruelty of Asha’s words, but Jude doesn’t react. It’s as if he’s a brick wall, and she merely threw a pebble at him.
Asha’s attention shifts to me, her eyes smoldering with a fury I’ve never seen directed at me before. “Consider our bond severed. House of Silver is dead to you.”
“No,” I say, finally finding my voice, my real voice. It trembles slightly, but I push on, determined to make her see reason. “No, Asha. You need to stand down. Do not attack Sharhavva. This path will only lead to more bloodshed and suffering.”
Anger flares in those eyes that are usually so gentle when she looks at me. “Stand down? Do you even hear yourself? How far you have fallen, Annora? To defend our enemies, to turn your back on your own people?”
“Asha, please,” I choke out, my throat tightening with emotion. “You don’t understand—”
“—how can you defend them? They’ve taken everything from us. And you would have me stand down? Have you forgotten all they’ve done?”
“They haven’t.” I say, my temper flaring. “Jasce has been nothing but kind to me. He’s shown me a different side to House of Crimson, one that seeks peace, not war.”
Asha scoffs. “Annora, wake up. He’s using you. You’re a pawn in his twisted game of power. Can’t you see that? He’s manipulating you, turning you against your own sister.”
If only I can make Asha see Jasce as I see him. His strength. His kindness. His inherent goodness.
“He’s not like that, Ash. If you would just give him a chance, you’d see it too.”
“Then explain this.” She reaches into her cloak and pulls out a crumpled parchment and shoves it into my hands.
My stomach drops as I read the words.
If you wish to see Emerin again, you need to turn your army around and go home. If you fail to comply, you will never see your sister alive again.
Jasce
My fingers tremble as I reread the note over and over again, searching for some kind of hidden meaning that isn’t there.
“See,” Asha begins, her words like ice, “they aren’t your friends, Annora. They will never be your friends. They arecrimson.”
The note crinkles in my grip, the edges biting into my palms as I stare at the words that threaten to shatter the fragile walls I’ve built around myself.
