“My decision is made.”
“Diem, please—”
“Don’t call me that,” I clipped and moved to route around him.
He stepped in front of my brother, his tone turning frantic. “Convince her, Teller. You have to make her change her mind.”
Teller squinted at Luther, studying him with a puzzled look. Suddenly his eyes went wide, some inner light clicking to life, and Luther nodded silently.
“I don’t have time for this,” I muttered. I yanked my brother toward the tent, ignoring the shouts that followed. Once we’d ducked beneath the canvas flap, momentarily shielded from prying eyes, I spun on my heel.
“Why didn’t you choose him?” Teller said before I could speak.
“It doesn’t matter. I need to tell you some things, and I don’t have long.”
“Diem, I think Luther is trying to—”
“There’s a box in my nightstand drawer containing a letter. If I die, read that letter and guard it with your life. Don’t share its contents with anyone else, not even Lily.”
“D, listen, I really think Luth—”
“No one, Teller. Understood?”
He frowned but nodded, and I let out a small sigh of relief. Last night, in a hastily scrawled note, I had laid out everything—all the secrets about our mother and Luther, even my birth father. What I’d seen at the site of our father’s murder. The Guardians’ plans. A warning about Sophos. Where I’d hidden a secret stash of gold for him to start a new life abroad.
“Maura will take you in,” I continued. “If it’s not safe in Lumnos—”
“Stop talking like you’re going to die. You swore to fight, D.”
“I will fight, but I need you to hear this.” I clutched his face, wincing at the emotion that thickened my throat. “Don’t give up on Lily, Tel. This world is full of reasons to quit or run away. If you find something that brings you joy, hold on to it with everything you’ve got.”
He nodded, silvery tears beginning to line his eyes.
“And if you two are together, and she becomes pregnant…” I managed a faint smile at the blush on his cheeks. “Go to Luther first. Don’t run, don’t do anything irreversible. He’ll know what to do. I know he turned on me today—”
“Actually, I don’t think—”
“Just do it, alright? I still trust him on this.”
His eyebrows knit together with a host of unspoken questions.
“Promise me, Teller.”
“I promise.”
I threw my arms around him, burying my face in his shoulder and cherishing this final, precious moment with the one person who had been by my side through everything. The person whose loyalty I would never doubt, whose love for me was always pure.
“I love you,” I whispered. “I am so proud of the man that you are.”
He gripped me hard, his shoulders quietly shaking.
“My brilliant little brother, you are going to do such great things…” I fell silent as my voice broke and tears slipped in rivers down my cheeks.
“So are you, Diem. This can’t be the end.”
I nodded and gently pushed him away. “Go.” He hesitated, and I forced out a sniffling laugh. “Go. I can’t very well intimidate anyone if I walk out there looking weepy.”
With one last look, he closed his eyes, dipped his head, and walked away.
I stood in the tent alone, swiping at my face in a losing fight against my emotions. My hands began to tremble with the reality of what I was about to face.
If it were any other kind of fight—if I could use weapons, or even just my fists. I could be fast, I could be scrappy. I could even be clever, when it came to warfare. I could endure. Why was this the one thing I couldn’t do?
I scowled at the pitched ceiling of the tent, imagining the goddess Lumnos looking down in delight at the chaos she’d created.
“You couldn’t have given me one break?” I shouted.
The sound of rustling fabric announced someone’s entry into the tent. Remis, I suspected, ready to start the match. I took a deep, slow breath.
But when I turned, it wasn’t the Regent who stood before me with jeweled sword in hand and a glare that promised murder.
My heart stopped.
I lunged for the tent’s entrance. Luther moved fast, catching me by the waist. He hauled my back against his chest and raised the Sword of Corbois to my throat.
I thrashed against him, clawing uselessly at his steel-strong skin and jamming my elbows into his ribs. He gave a few muffled grunts, but his grip refused to loosen.
His voice rumbled in my ear like a coming storm. “Change your decision, or I’ll kill you now.”
“Then kill me,” I gritted through my teeth. “If it’s so important to you, go on and get it over with.”
I flinched as the blade pressed deeper.
“I’m giving you the chance to fight for your life.”
“Why does it matter?” I shot back. “I’ll be dead either way.”
He spun me around and slammed my back against the tent’s large center pole, one hand gripping me hard by the throat while the point of his sword wedged beneath my jaw. With his broad form curling around me to pin me in and his pale eyes besieged with a torrent of thrashing shadows, he looked like a mighty angel of death, come to lay judgment on my soul.
His teeth bared in a snarl. “Change your decision.”
“No.”
“Do it.”
“No.”
“Why do you refuse to fight me?”
My defiance slipped, and my eyes broke away.
“Tell me,” he roared, fingers squeezing around my throat.
“Because it wasn’t a lie for me!”
Hot tears sprang up anew. I let my head drop back against the pole, shutting my eyes in shame.
“I can’t fight you, Luther. The thought of killing you…” I let out a shaky, defeated sigh. “I care about you too much. Even if you don’t feel the same.”
His grip on my neck loosened. I heard the sound of a sword clattering on the floor, then felt a soft forehead press against my own. His warm breath heated my lips as his body slumped against mine.
“Choose me anyway.”
When I looked at him again, his fury had vanished. His shoulders sagged, his sharp features melting into anguish. He looked exhausted and utterly, desperately broken.
“You won’t have to do anything. I’ll handle it myself. I can make the magic look like it came from you.”
Then I understood. Luther never wanted to fight me.
He wanted to lose to me.
He sank to his knees. His head drooped, his hands wrapping around the backs of my thighs.
“Let me do this for you,” he begged. “I could hope for no greater death than this.”
Splinter by splinter, my broken heart began to rebuild.
I knelt in front of him and cupped his jaw in my hands. Tenderly, I ran my fingers across the lines of his face, tracing his furrowed brow and the rippled skin of his beautiful scar.
His hands slid to my ribs and pulled me against him. “Your face…” His haunted gaze traveled across my features, lost in the memory. “You looked at me like you were saying goodbye.”