“But last night they –”
No. Ladies do not make demands.She swallowed the thousand questions that arose in her mind. Her father wouldn’t answer any of them, just as he wouldn’t show her the sympathy or kindness that she craved from him. So she simply nodded again. “Yes, father.”
“You will depart from the lodge. I had Shadow sent there for you.”
Something about that small gesture made her eyes sting. Shadow was her favourite horse.
Lord Trevalyan cleared his throat and shifted his weight. “And Lord Laghain sent a message. Unfortunately, due to the… situation, the family has withdrawn from the agreement.” His jaw clenched, and his hand tightened into a fist.
At his words, Leni let out a stifled gasp and covered her mouth with her hand. Lord Trevalyan’s eyes flickered briefly in her direction.
Isolde pressed her lips together tightly. She felt… what? Anger? Humiliation? Relief? All of it, and nothing, all at once. She gave another stiff nod.
“I understand.” Ladies do not let their emotions show.
“Yes, well,” her father said, irritation plain in his voice, “they did not have to be quite so eager about it. We did not need more scandal on top of everything else. But it doesn’t matter. You will travel north, receive the cure. When you return in triumph, better opportunities will present themselves.”
Isolde wondered if he was still speaking to her, or mostly to himself.
Her father turned away, then paused. “A third person will accompany you as well, a mercenary, for extra protection. Garren is the best swordsman we have, but he’s not the youngest anymore.”
She barely registered it. Yesterday’s concerns seemed so small. Sneaking off to read, worrying about a snag in her ballgown.
Now she was leaving home, something she’d often dreamed of, but not by choice. Never by choice. She glanced down at her hand, where the trail of blue winked at her. Terror threatened to overtake her again, and she clasped her hands together so tightly it hurt. The tide of magic slowly rose inside her. Slow breaths, she told herself. Slow, deep breaths.
Lord Trevalyan straightened and turned toward the entrance of the tent. “When you are ready, they’ll be waiting at the dock.” A pause, then, “Safe travels. May the Watcher protect you. Everything will be alright, in the end.”
Her father hesitated just before stepping outside. For a brief moment, she thought – shehoped– he might say something else, but he never did.
Instead, he only nodded stiffly, not meeting her eyes. Then he was gone.
5
A fate worse than death
When the sun had risen enough to be visible above the lake, Felix spotted Lord Trevalyan stepping out of the pavilion. The older man moved with purpose, first stopping to exchange a few quiet words with Garren and Luella. Then his gaze swept the garden until it landed on Felix, and he strode briskly in his direction. Felix rose from the bench.
“Felix, is it?” Lord Trevalyan began, his tone calm and deliberate. “My apologies for my earlier behaviour. I was in a… distraught state. I should thank you. For what you did for my daughter last night.”
Felix blinked, caught off guard. He raked his memory, but he was fairly sure he’d never been on the receiving end of an apology from a lord.
“I require a word,” the lord continued. “Walk with me.”
They made their way past the pavilion and headed to the lake, where Felix noted a small boat moored to a wooden dock. Lord Trevalyan stepped onto the planks, his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze fixed on the water. Felix waited, the silence stretching just long enough to make him uneasy.
“I have hired you to protect my daughter and to see her safely to the Nexus.” Felix did not reply, and the other man continued to speak. “However, while the mage assures me there is every chance of success, a cure is not guaranteed. If she cannot be cured – if the magic of the Nexus cannot undo her… state, there is no future for Isolde. Not for her, and not for this house.”
Felix’s jaw tightened. He didn’t need to ask, but he did anyway. “Meaning?”
“Meaning I expect you to act, should the situation demand it. If there is no other way,” Lord Trevalyan said, his voice showing only the tiniest hint of emotion. “Luella is a woman, and Garren is loyal, but he has known Isolde for many years. He won’t be able to do what must be done.”
Felix folded his arms. “I’m a mercenary, not an executioner.”
“You’re pragmatic,” Lord Trevalyan replied, meeting Felix’s gaze. “You have no sentimental ties to this family. And you’ve proven you don’t follow orders blindly but make your own judgements; otherwise, Isolde would be dead already. I trust, Ihaveto trust, that you will make the right choice. If it comes to that.”
Felix stared back, his eyes hard. “And if I say no?”
Lord Trevalyan’s mouth tightened, and his expression darkened. “Then you leave my daughter to a fate worse than death. Do you understand what happens to a leytouched left unchecked? They will hunt her. It will be only a matter of time. If there is no saving her… I would rather it be quick.”
