she’d been about to hurl an insult, but I gave her no chance. I still wasn’t ready to be touched, and she’d caught me off guard. With no second thoughts, my instincts summoned up magic, the air shoving her away from me and slamming her-hard-into a wall. She stood there, dazed, and I gasped, horrified at what I’d brutally done without even thinking. I really was turning into my father’s daughter.
“Are you okay?” I asked, stepping toward her when she didn’t move.
She jerked away from me, which I hoped meant no concussion. “This isn’t over. I will never forgive you for taking him from me! I’ll make you pay. He’s mine. Do you understand? Mine.”
This was followed by a whole tirade of ranting and insults about how much she hated me and would see me destroyed. She kept her distance, though, so apparently my brief lapse into violence had done some good. After a while, I had no patience for it and simply went into my bedroom, leaving her out there. I locked the door but could still hear her going on and on.
Remembering Rurik saying that I should go out and talk to the people who could possibly be dying for me, I tried to distract myself from Ysabel by looking through the room’s closet. I figured I should probably wear something gentry, and Nia had kept me well-stocked. The spark was rekindling in me, that need to take revenge against Leith and show Katrice we couldn’t be pushed around. I would prove a strong leader for those out there. I was pulling out a silvery blue silk dress that looked suitable when Ysabel’s shouting finally stopped. With a sigh of relief, I started to drape the dress over a chair-and caught a glimpse out the small window.
There was an army out there.
I immediately backed away, trying to block out the sea of faces encamped outside. I dropped the dress, feeling dizzy. The reality of it all hit me, and I again felt helpless and out of my league. A sharp knock sounded on the door, momentarily breaking through my panic. Anger was an easier emotion to deal with, and I hurried over, yanking the door open.
“Look, I told you there’s nothing I can do about-”
I stopped. It wasn’t Ysabel outside my door.
It was Dorian.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Oh,” I said lamely, stepping aside so that he could enter. “I thought you were someone else.”
“Someone in a velvet dress shrieking at the top of her lungs?” he asked. He moved past me in that graceful way of his, and I noticed he was careful to keep a healthy distance between us without being asked, as though he suspected my aversion to touch.
“Something like that.” I shut the door.
He shrugged and immediately found the room’s wine. “She won’t bother you anymore,” he said, pouring a cup. “I’m sending her away.”
“Yeah, she told me. You know, I feel kind of bad for her.”
“Stop,” he ordered. “She’s none of your concern. She should have had no expectations about her relationship with me.”
“Yeah, well, she kind of did.”
“Again, one angry person is none of your concern-not with everything else going on.”
I grimaced. “I suppose not, though it sure seems like a lot of people are angry at me-oh. God. I nearly forgot. Do you have Volusian?”
Dorian was setting his sword and cloak down. He didn’t look happy at the reference. “Yes…I enslaved him to me.”
“Can I…can I have him back?”
He eyed me. “Are you sure that’s what you want? It’d be better if we banished him together.”
I hesitated, recalling Volusian’s hands on my throat and knowing what would happen if I ever lost control again. I wouldn’t, though. I would stay strong, and I needed him for what was to come. “Yes,” I said firmly. “I want him back.”
Dorian shrugged. “Then I’ll summon him later. Let’s not ruin the moment just yet. He’s quite depressing, you know.” Dorian strolled toward the window and bent over, picking up the dress I’d dropped. “This is lovely.”
“I was going to put it on, but…but…” I swallowed and nodded toward the window. “There’s a, um, army out there.”
He neatly laid the dress on the chair and glanced out the window. “Yes. Yes, there is. Yours and mine. Well, part of them.”
“I can’t believe this happened.”
“Hiding from them won’t make them go away.”
“I kind of hoped it would.”
He said nothing but gave me an expectant look. Something about it drew me out, and steeling myself up, I approached the window again, staring out at the wide, sandy stretch in the back of the castle.
There were so many more than I’d expected-and this was only allegedly a portion of the soldiers that would be fighting Katrice. My small army in their mismatched attire stood in formation on one side. Dorian’s “reserves” stood beside them, much more sharply dressed in deep green shirts under their leather armor and golden oak emblems. So many…and again, still not the whole force. More of his soldiers would join up, and then my numbers would grow when the call went out throughout the land when I went to Highmore-if I went there.
“All of this,” I murmured, “all of this because of a chain of decisions. Me refusing Leith, him kidnapping me, you…” I couldn’t finish the words, but Dorian and I both knew what I’d been about to say.
“Do you regret it?” he asked. “What I did?” He sounded as cool and confident as ever, but I could have sworn there was a tiny note of fear in his voice-fear that he’d done something I hadn’t wanted.
Kiyo’s words about how I would regret all this came back to me, and I kept wondering if it was really worth it, all these men and women who might die…for what? For my honor? My revenge? I could still respond to Katrice’s message, tell her I’d marry her nephew and make peace….
A knot formed in my stomach, and I knew that wasn’t an option. I could never be with anyone in that family, not without thinking of Leith, of his hands and his body. I could never let her or anyone else think I or my people could be pushed around. After all, Leith hadn’t just taken advantage of me. Those girls had suffered too. I was the protector of my people. I was the Thorn Queen and the Thorn Land both.
An image of Dorian running his sword through Leith returned to my mind. Probably I should have found it gruesome. Instead, it brought me…peace.
“No.” I turned and looked straight into Dorian’s eyes. “I don’t regret it. I…I’m glad you did it.” My voice wavered a little. “I’m so glad you did it.”
His face transformed somewhat, filled with a type of wonder. I think he’d grown so accustomed to my usual style, my human way of being rational and merciful…Well, I think he’d been long bracing himself for my wrath. My earlier suspicion about the worry in his voice had been correct. He’d probably expected a reaction similar to when he’d given me the Thorn Land.
The look on his face made me flustered and confused. I turned back to the window and admitted, “But I… I’m scared. I don’t want to wage a war. I certainly don’t know how to.”
Dorian came to stand beside me, still careful to maintain a buffer between us. “It’s in your blood,” he said. “Storm King was the greatest tactician in centuries.”
“I’m not him. I don’t want to be like him.” A nasty voice spoke in my head: But you called yourself Storm Queen, according to Kiyo.
“You can inherit his genius without his cruelty,” said Dorian.
“I suppose, but still…I still don’t know what to do. Will you help me?”
We turned to look at each other, and again, his face seemed to be lit from within. “Of course. You’re not the only one Katrice is after. I’m the one who killed the poor bastard, remember?” The light faded from his face a bit at the reference to Leith. He leaned toward me, eyes intense. “I’d do it a thousand times over, if I could. War or not.”
That earnestness in voice, that fierceness-it sent a shiver down my spine. “You only say that because we
