Traitor Born

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, holding back tears. I can’t cry. Not now.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s actually normal. After a battle, one or two fights between Sword soldiers usually break out. Someone will accuse someone else of being reckless or thoughtless. They’ll usually brawl. It’s a reaction to fear. Fear turns to anger, and they need to put it somewhere, or they’ll turn it inward. It’s probably healthier to vent it. You were afraid I was dead. When you found out I wasn’t, your fear turned to anger. You know what that means, right?”

“No,” Reykin replies.

“It means you care about me.”

He turns on me, his stare cold, devoid of emotion. “You’ve got it wrong. I care about no one. The only thing I want is revenge. You’re a means to an end, Roselle. I need you to help me topple a government. As soon as we accomplish that, I’ll have no more use for you.”

I’m not sure why his words destroy me like they do. The heat of embarrassment floods my cheeks. “You may not care about me, but you care about your brothers. I can see it on your face when you talk about them.”

“Not in the way you think. My heart is gone, Roselle.”

“I think it’s the opposite. I think you carry around all their hearts now.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he growls. “Just do your job so I don’t have to kill you.”

His words are a punch in my stomach. “Now who’s the cruel man?”

“Did I hurt your feelings?” he asks with derision.

I refuse to answer him.

We’re stopped by security at the Halo Palace gates. The airship hovers by the barriers as we wait for clearance. Our arrival causes an uproar. Drone cameras and beat reporters who lurk near the grounds converge on the airship, beating on the glass and yelling questions that are too muffled to make out. The guards draw their weapons on the raucous crowd, pushing them back. Our vehicle is quickly scanned and searched. An Exo guard says, “You’re both required to report immediately to the Upper Halo pad 985. Do you need coordinates for the dock?”

“No,” Reykin replies. The airship flies forward and into the sprawling landscape of the Halo Palace grounds. We gain altitude, lifting toward the golden halo-shaped crown. The sea beside us is magnificent. White flags and pointed spires from Balmora’s Sea Fortress are visible as we climb higher, and the castle is surrounded by the crystal-blue high tide.

Reykin’s tone is gruff as he says, “I was hoping to avoid this until later.” He scrutinizes me. The frown on his face indicates I’m a disaster. “Just tell them what happened last night. You have nothing to hide.”

I don’t look at him, but I lift my arms and fight the urge to weave my hair into a thick plait. “So, you do believe that nothing happened between Hawthorne and me.”

“You can hardly breathe. Whatever happened last night, it wasn’t much fun.”

“How do I explain how you found me?”

“You had Hawthorne contact me on your behalf because you’re supposed to be my slave for the day.”

I snort with derision. “I’d never do that. I’d contact Dune first.”

“Then lie. Or maybe you can say that you asked Hawthorne to contact me because I care about you.”

My heart aches. “Don’t make me regret saving your life, Reykin.”

He lands the airship on a golden platform. Once it’s secure, a wide hangar opens. The platform moves, swinging sideways, bringing us inside the hangar. The doors close, and Dune emerges from an interior doorway ahead of us. His face is lined with fatigue.

Exiting the vehicle on my own, I walk to meet Dune. He watches me, his gaze missing nothing. His eyes shift to Reykin. “Thank you.” Dune’s deep voice resonates in the hangar. Reykin simply nods. “How bad is it?” Dune asks me. His concern is muted. Injury is part of secondborn Sword life. It’s unavoidable.

“No worse than most of our training days,” I reply with the same detachment.

“I’ll have my physician examine you,” Dune says.

“It’s unnecessary,” I reply.

Dune frowns. “You’re required to answer questions from The Virtue about last night.”

I want to lash out at Dune for not allowing me some time to recover before subjecting me to an inquiry. The lack of empathy for me after what I’ve been through is appalling, though I expected it. I nod and force my anger down.

Dune ushers me into the corridor. Reykin trails us. I’m led to the Grand Foyer near the air elevators. Security has doubled. Everyone is scanned, even Dune, which makes me want to laugh. He wouldn’t need a weapon to kill The Virtue.

The portraits of Fabian Bowie and his wife, Adora, stare at us as we ascend the stairs. I need to hold on to the railing, and my progress is slow. Reykin tries to take my elbow, but I snatch it away.

Dune sees the exchange and frowns. I don’t care what he thinks. I want nothing more than to return to my room and be left alone. I feel empty and torn. My mother and brother tried to kill me again last night. They murdered my father. Hawthorne will marry a firstborn named Fauna. She’ll have his children, no matter what he says to the contrary. He’ll give his second child to the Fate of Swords. Nothing will ever change. Tears well up in my eyes, but I force them back, hoping my numbness lasts just a little longer. I might fall apart if it doesn’t.

At the top of the stairs, a sophisticated reception area shines with ethereal light. Dune is immediately surrounded by The Virtue’s staff. I’m relieved. I walk away from them to the wall of windows and gaze out at the view of Purity. I cross my arms over my middle, holding myself. People I don’t know hover around me. They also work for The Virtue. A lovely Diamond-Fated secondborn scurries to my side. Her violet hair is in a tight twist. Dewdrop indigo lights flash on her eyelashes. “Hi, I’m Glisten, an assistant to The Virtue. How are you feeling?” Her eyes move from mine as she peeks at the rest of me. Her smile slips a little, but when her eyes meet mine again, she brightens with even more fake cheer. “Is there anything I can get you?” she asks with enthusiasm.

“No,” I reply.

Reykin hovers near us. “She’ll take a sweater, slippers, some water, and a chet.”

“No, she won’t,” I growl.

“Yes, she will. Have you got all that, Glisten?” Reykin’s smile is devastatingly handsome. It annoys me.

Glisten is absolutely enthralled. “Of course. What size slippers?”

I glower at her.

“Right,” she says, backing away with her finger pointing behind her. “I’ll just go look it up.” Glisten hurries away to do Reykin’s bidding.

“If she only knew the real you, Reykin, and not your playboy persona, she’d run away.”

“Only you know the real me,” he replies.

“What are we waiting for?”

“I heard someone say Grisholm is on his way up.”

“Why are you still here?” I ask.

“I’m required to be here. And anyway, you’re my slave for the day, remember? We firstborns take that power very seriously.”

“‘Slave for a day’ only counts when it’s firstborn to firstborn. I’m secondborn. I’m a slave all the time.”