of this through with you if you’d been there, if you’d been where you should. At the palace. With your mother. By my side. Being a prince.”
“And you’d have considered other options?”
Hotspur pulled her horse to an abrupt halt. It blew air and shook its head to loosen her grip on the reins. “What other options, Hal?”
“Not open rebellion!” Hal threw up her hands as she cried it; her voice echoed high and sharp.
“Your mother did this! Not only by refusing to ransom Mora home, but by treating me, and Vindomata, like enemies, or—or children! Did she tell you about Burgun?”
“I heard that you had him and wouldn’t give him to my mother.”
“He was mine, and everything Celedrix did seethed with disrespect. I ought to have the authority to make my own determinations on hostages, Hal, and I ought to be trusted to get good ransoms and turn Celedrix’s rightful part over to her. I’m no child. I need no nurse, and Vindomata especially doesn’t. The queen’s fear makes her weak—because she betrayed, she assumes betrayal! We never would have if she’d trusted us!”
“Maybe you would not, but can you honestly say the same of Vindomata? I know Mother’s made mistakes, but she’s your queen. She won it, and your family backed her. Vindomata is drenched in being a kingmaker, and she cannot give it up.”
“Her children died putting your mother on the throne.” Hotspur pointed at Hal’s face.
“If she deposes Celedrix, then what was that sacrifice for?” Hal grabbed Hotspur’s hand. “Let’s not fight, I—I don’t want to, it isn’t why I asked. I only want to know if you would trust me on the throne. You loved me once, and you could again.”
“You think I stopped loving you? You idiot!” Hotspur tore free of Hal’s grip and nudged her horse on.
Her insides trembled. She shut her eyes tightly and cursed herself. She was the idiot.
Behind her came the sound of Hal’s horse trotting to catch up. “We shouldn’t fight,” the prince called softly. “And there should never be war between us.”
“Will your mother surrender?” Hotspur asked.
Hal shook her head no.
“I cannot betray or abandon my mother, my aunt.”
“You could convince them to stop. Support me instead of Banna Mora, and support Celeda. Support what is right, not Mora’s quest for vengeance.”
“It is justice, though,” Hotspur insisted softly. Convincing herself. “Mora would be a strong queen, too, Hal. It was hers before it was yours.”
Hal dropped the reins and held her hands out with the palms up. “Tell me one final thing, Hotspur. What do you want to happen? If you could will it so?”
The intensity of Hal’s brown eyes, the pink at her high cheeks and the tip of her nose, her pale lips, and that flutter of rich black hair at her temple—they begged Hotspur to reach out, to touch her and smile. How could she say what she wanted: for them all to live, for Celedrix to be stronger and better, for Vindomata to forgive and find love again, Mora to come home to Aremoria with her husband and child in arms, not encased in vicious armor. And for Hal to be honest and rise up to meet Aremoria where it deserved to be met.
She wanted Hal to be queen.
If she said it, everything would fall apart.
“Hal.” Hotspur touched her mittened hand to Hal’s, then leaned in to grip the prince’s wrist. “Let’s just be friends. For now, while we can. And later, when we look across a battlefield at each other, remember this. This winter forest and that race across the moor.”
Wind slithered among the black, barren trees, hissing and gentle.
A tear blinked like a tiny drop of ice at Hal’s lashes. “All right, Hotspur.”
“Friends.” Hotspur said it hard, with all the passion she could muster, and she heard a response from the wind.
One for Innis Lear, one for Aremoria.
Even the island put them opposed. She added, “It will matter, Hal, that we’re friends, when we think of the same thing, at the same moment on the battlefield. Innis Lear says so.”
It brought a bare smile to Hal’s lips. “I never thought I’d see the day Hotspur Persy spoke openly of her magic.”
Hotspur shivered. She felt the power of this place in her bones, and she knew she would take it with her when she returned home.
INNIS LEAR LIKES the Longest Night.
The sun falls beneath the line of black sea, a flare of light, arrowing in every direction. When it is gone, the stars rule.