A Heart So Fierce and Broken (The Cursebreaker Series) by Brigid Kemmerer

will have access to the waterways she seeks. Lives will be spared.
    Think of our future , Parrish said.
    Prince Rhen takes a step toward me. “Do you truly believe your mother will agree to terms of an alliance that you have negotiated?”
    “Yes,” I say, “I do.”
    He frowns. “I believe you.”
    The words are right, but the expression on his face is not. I frown in return. “Then why do you look displeased?”
    “I believe you trust your mother.” For the first time, his eyes are not cool, but instead disappointed. “Unfortunately, I do not.”
    At my back, Sorra says in a rush, “This was a trap, Lia Mara.”
    Prince Rhen glances to his guards. “Arrest them both. Lock her guard in—”
    Sorra’s body slams into me, and it takes me a moment to realize she’s knocking me out of reach of the man who was about to seize my arm. I stumble to the ground.
    “Run!” Sorra yells at me. She whirls to draw the dagger from the guardsman’s belt. Without hesitation, she drives it into his midsection, and he falls. Before he’s even on the ground, she’s stabbed another.
    I scramble toward the door. Sorra plunges the dagger into a third guardsman, and with a quick whirl, she gets her hands on a sword, too. Blood is in the air in a crimson arc. I want to scream, but I can’t find my breath. Everything is happening too fast. Guardsmen are suddenly everywhere.
    One pulls a sword, swings wide, and drives it straight into Sorra.
    Her body goes down. There’s so much blood.
    I scream, long and loud, hoping Parrish is still close, that he’ll hear.
    No. I don’t want him to see.
    A man seizes my arm and jerks me to my feet. My vision feels washed in blood. I still can’t breathe.
    I wanted peace, and now Sorra’s bleeding out on the floor.
    “You will be unharmed,” the prince is saying. I can barely process the words. “But your presence here will ensure that your mother leaves Emberfall alone for good.”

 
    CHAPTER TEN
    GREY
    The narrow tunnel to the arena muffles the sound of the crowd. I haven’t worn proper armor in months, but my limbs remember the weight. Journ is broader than I am, but his breastplate fits well enough, his bracers snug against my forearms.
    “Worwick likes to rile the fighters up,” Journ is saying. “He’ll tell them to draw blood. Sometimes it’s better to give the crowd a little.”
    I eye his scarred arms and say nothing. We’re alone here in the tunnel, but no one knows I’m taking his place. Worwick will figure it out the instant I set foot in the arena, but by then it’ll be too late for him to question it.
    Hopefully I’ll put on a good enough show that it won’t matter after that.
    “He won’t like it if you draw blood, though,” Journ says. “No one wants to be made a fool. Let them think they can win for a while.”
    I know this, but I let him keep talking anyway. My heart sends blood pulsing through my veins.
    “Four matches,” Journ says. “Can you stay alive through four matches?”
    “Ask me when I’m done.”
    He starts to chuckle, but his breath catches and he presses an arm to his abdomen. “Most of these men don’t have much skill,” he says. “They’re all just out to have a good time and bring home bragging rights. But sometimes they’ll surprise you.”
    I nod. Above us, the drums begin a familiar rhythm. The resulting cheer is near deafening, even from here.
    I don’t need to be exceptional. I just need to put on a good show. I just need to stay alive.
    I take a step toward the end of the tunnel, but Journ catches the shoulder of my armor.
    “Hawk.” He swallows. “I will owe you for this.”
    How I wish Kantor had taken a hoof to the chest instead of this man. “You owe me nothing.”
    “I’ll have a chance to repay you one day.”
    I smile. “Then let’s hope I survive the night.”
    The drums beat again. Worwick’s voice calls out. “From the depths of the Valkins Valley, a man nearly forged in steel, rarely defeated, my