Chapter 50

It's my least favorite bath I've ever had. It's not simply cool, it's freezing . I'm positive it's at a temperature I've never felt before when Beau makes me get in. My body convulses throughout the five minutes I'm able to withstand it before I flounder out, and I'm very grateful for the food waiting at the desk.

Beau lounges on my bed, munching on grapes and flipping through another book. "Your jaunt around the castle this morning is the main topic of conversation around here," she says.

I pull out the desk chair and drop into it. "I have many regrets in this life, and I have to say running those laps are up there."

"Don't decide yet. It made a really good impression on the commander and his men."

Hmm.

The plate of roasted chicken and peas holds all my attention. Forgoing the utensils, I tear apart the chicken breast with my fingers, heaving a sigh of pleasure at the perfect flavors and spices.

"Remind me to kiss Henry the next time I see him."

Laughing, Beau flips onto her stomach and props her chin in her hand. "Commander Imen told my father you'd fare better than most of his men in battle."

I pause midchew. "Your father is back?"

"He is," she says, kicking her feet behind her. "He called a council of his advisors to a meeting this afternoon."

"No one knows where he was?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "He does this a couple times a year, disappearing without a word. There's speculation, of course, that he spends his time with hired women at the cottage on the southern beaches, but it would be odd for him to take such a frivolous trip during a time like this."

"Time like this…?"

"Your return. Possible retaliation from Roison. Then there's the fact that Irina's family is at court with concern about the state of their alliance." She shrugs like these are of no consequence to her. "And I know your mother has sent a message by now, so there's added pressure of her breathing down his neck."

"That reminds me," I say, wiping off my hands on the napkin. "I need to call my dagger."

Closing my eyes, I pretend it's on a table in front of me. It's like digging through stalks of algae. I concentrate hard to make sense of the colors and shapes in my mind, looking for something tangible to hold on to, but this retrieval is proving to be the hardest yet, even harder than finding it on the ocean floor.

Then, like someone opens a door, I see a room. It's empty except for a single round table at its center. I'm cautious as I walk toward it, spotting the black blade on the surface. I stop before it.

This is a trap. It's so obvious I'm tempted to leave it, but I promised…

What will my mother assume if I don't try? It's possible someone commandeered the dagger during transit, or maybe General Samasu isn't as loyal as he appeared. Nevertheless, it must be done. I try to be quick with it, try to snatch the dagger and disappear, but a hand clamps down on mine.

The voice is heavy with emotion and excitement. "Jo."

I look up and lay eyes on the woman who has me cornered in my own mind. There's no doubt or question of her identity because her face is my own, but stronger. Age and life have chiseled away the softer lines, replacing them with renewed strength. Copper hair, lighter than my own, hangs in waves over one shoulder. She smiles at me, eyes brimming with tears.

"Mother," I murmur as I exhale.

Then I'm back in my body, dagger clutched tight in my fist. I look at Beau in shock.

"What happened?" she says, sitting up with wide eyes.

"I…" I shake my head to stop the emotion from leaking out in my voice. "I saw my mother."

Beau leans forward, eyes alight. "Did she say anything?"

I shake my head again. "No," I say, running my hand over the now familiar weapon. "Just my name. Just…Jo."

A soft smile pulls at Beau's lips. I fight the tears threatening to overflow.

Standing from the bed, Beau envelopes me in a hug. "If she's anything like my mother, she's planning and plotting how to break you out of here," she says.

I smile. "I'm here of my own accord, remember?"

"Oh, yeah." She sneaks a bite of my chicken. "All in the name of love." She winks at me and returns to her position of leisure.

I place my dagger on the edge of my desk. The exhaustion I felt getting out of the bath is long gone after seeing my mother.

I've spent the majority of my life wondering if she wanted me. I knew what I was told, but doubt always lingered, making me wonder if she abandoned me. Seeing her heals a wound I worked hard to convince myself didn't exist.

I finish my meal and retrieve the book from under my mattress. Beau pretends to not notice, and we spend the rest of our day reading, me at the desk as I pore over the jumbled mess of text, Beau switching from the bed to one of the cushioned chairs and back again. She never truly settles.

Apparently there are many kinds of bonds, some born, others created, physical as well as mental. There's a tale of two Heirs who were gifted the ability to become one body during battles. Two heads, four arms and legs, and the ability to see all around them at the same time.

Then there are mind bonds. Similar to the gifts of an oracle, except it's only a meld between two people. There's less known about them, however.

Elemental bonds. Cursed bonds created by witches. Contractual bonds, like in the case of blood oaths.

The next bond sends a chill down my spine when I come across it.

A blood bond. While similar to a blood oath, it requires blood from two or more people and is considered the most abhorrent of all bonds. Used as a truth revealer, anyone who creates a blood oath with another while telling a lie will kill them both instantly—

I gasp out loud.

Beau doesn't take her eyes off the book in her hands. "I've been waiting for you to get to that part," she says, smug.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Better question— "Why didn't you stop it?"

"One thing you'll learn when it comes to Acker is that nothing can stop him once he's set his mind on something." She closes the book and sits up in her chair. "And you didn't ask."

I stare at the text, dumbfounded. "I thought you and Hallis were angry about the blood oath, not the…" …nearly killing us bit.

"Again," she says, throwing her hands up, book in one hand, "we are all merely at the mercy of Acker's will."

I stand and begin to pace as I read. It was commonplace for kings and queens to demand blind fealty. They'd make their subordinates swear blood oaths, and any time they felt their liege was straying, they'd test their loyalty by forcing them to commit blood bonds…and they often failed.

Too often they were eventually branded unreliable. They were banned. Anyone caught committing the crime of a blood bond would be hung on the wall. Or worse, if a lie was told, their families would be hung on the wall in their place.

"When was this book written?" I ask Beau.

"That's a question for my mother," she says. "Some time before my father took the throne centuries ago."

I scour the book for any indication of long-term effects but come up empty. The entire book seems more like a warning about any kind of bond and less of a testament to any goodwill coming from them.

Beau leaves to find us dinner, and I'm slightly panicked as I prepare another bath. This one is the opposite of my one from earlier, and I ease into the steaming water and lavender oil on an exhale. My thoughts are racing and scrambling to make sense of everything. I close my eyes and concentrate on clearing my mind. Everything feels like too much, but the steady words he spoke as he held my hand with blood seeping through our fingers replay in my head.

And I love her.

At the time, I thought it was nothing more than a manipulation tactic, an added caveat to convince General Samasu he was safe with me, to leave me in Kenta's hands. He spoke the words as if he was stating the color of the sky or his favorite breakfast dish, not professing his love for his match like he's always claimed is important.

Just a simple I love her.

A laugh escapes me, a bubble of exhilaration I can't contain before it's a full cacophony of laughter reverberating off the bathroom walls. It shouldn't matter, but I'm glad there are no witnesses to the scorching flush of my cheeks or my giddy smile as I relish the truth.

Acker loves me.

Acker loves me .

Acker loves me.