Chapter 2

02

My father guarded the frontier, and my brother commanded the armies. The Sterling family had been loyal for generations.

But because of me, Alaric saw them as a threat. Last night, a guard told me my father had been framed for treason.

He was being brought back to the capital in chains, and my brother's command had been stripped away.

Alaric let out a cold snort. "The Sterlings? If they had stayed in their place, they wouldn't be in this mess."

"Stayed in their place?" I growled. I shoved the dagger half an inch into my chest.

The pain made me shake, but I didn't stop. "Have you forgotten who took an arrow for you on the battlefield?"

"Shut up!" Alaric interrupted. There was a hint of panic in his voice.

"Lyra, do you really think I won't kill you?"

"You've wanted me dead for a long time, haven't you?" I tilted my head back, facing him with my empty sockets.

"Since the day you made Lydia your favorite. Since the day you paralyzed my arms. Since the day you took my eyes."

I was born with a gift―the ability to see in the dark. He had used that gift to have me scout enemy camps for him.

But Lydia told him my gift was a curse. So, he destroyed me.

The dagger went deeper. Blood ran down the handle and dripped onto the floor like a dying flower.

"Alaric," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I was born into a family of soldiers. I never betrayed you."

"But you... you destroyed everything I loved."

With those words, I shoved the dagger in all the way. Agony exploded in my chest as the world began to fade.

I saw visions of my father teaching me to shoot and my brother picking magnolias for me.

I saw Alaric standing under the tree, smiling and reaching out his hand. "Lyra, come here," he seemed to say.

I wanted to go to him, but something pulled me back. Alaric was holding me now, his voice sounding raw.

"Lyra! Don't you dare die!"

I smiled, spitting blood onto his face. "Your Majesty... you finally... held me..."

Before I lost consciousness, I felt the half-broken jade pendant in my sleeve. It was the token of his love.

I had snapped it in two. The other half had been thrown into the river long ago.