them somehow, let them know I am safe. After all, if I am with Caledon Holt, it’s probably the safest place to be in all the kingdoms.
“I’ve only been to Montrice once, and that was some time ago. The people are friendly enough, but false words mask true intentions. Don’t forget that.”
I assure him that I’m naturally distrustful and he smiles once more, his dimple winking at me. I try not to look directly at his face; it’s too distracting. I remember what he told me earlier, that the queen believes someone in Montrice—someone powerful—is working with the Aphrasians to overthrow the Renovian monarchy.
“What I don’t understand is how the grand prince was an Aphrasian. He was so devoted to the royal family,” I say.
“A loyal façade hides the worst kind of traitor,” Cal says.
I shift uncomfortably. “And I thought we were at peace with Montrice.”
“Well, it has been about eighteen years since they last tried to assassinate the queen. I suppose that means we’re due for another conflict.”
“I’ll never understand that. Why can’t people be satisfied with peace? It’s as if they do everything possible to avoid harmony between the kingdoms.” The thought of another war with Montrice infuriates me. Such a useless loss of life. Innocent people used as pawns to carry out the whims of the aristocracy.
“You know that and I know that, but we aren’t the ones who benefit from war. We’re the ones who suffer so that others gain,” Cal says darkly.
“Why do what you do, then? Why work for the crown at all? You have the smithy. Couldn’t you do that instead of being in the queen’s service?”
Cal doesn’t speak. Then he sighs and rubs his face with his hands. “Because I have to.”
I can tell he has more to say, so I let him talk.
“My father made a blood vow to the queen. But he died before it was satisfied. So it passed on to me. Now I must satisfy it.” A blood vow? I’ve only heard of them from the old tales my aunts read to me. It seems so . . . barbaric. Evil even. The blood in my veins runs cold at the thought.
“Why did he do that? What do you have to do?” I think of the path my mother and aunts set for me. I veered off it on my own, with no consequence so far. But a blood vow—if the stories are right, then Cal’s very life has barely been his own.
“After the Battle of Baer, the queen fell apart. She wouldn’t govern. She wouldn’t leave her rooms. She wouldn’t even lower the palace flag to confirm the king’s death. My father was there to protect her, but he couldn’t do that for long if she wasn’t able to perform the most basic duties. The kingdom would look weak, it would be invaded, and that would be the end of us. There’d already been an attempt on the queen’s life soon after her pregnancy with Princess Lilac was announced, which sparked the Aphrasian Rebellion in the first place.
“The only way he could rouse her from her grief was by promising her the Deian Scrolls. She insisted on a blood vow, so he made it. He was foolish and shortsighted, I guess, but the kingdom was on the verge of collapse. One victorious battle meant nothing if the queen let it all fall to pieces. He intended to return the Deian Scrolls to her long before I came of age, but that never happened. So now I must.”
“And if you don’t?” I ask, my heart in my throat.
“If I don’t, it passes on to my children and theirs . . . until it is finally done. Until the scrolls are returned to their rightful place. But I refuse to pass it down to my children. I will have no children.” His jaw is set and his eyes are stormy.
“You can’t abandon the vow?”
At that, a rueful smile. “A blood vow is deep magic. There is no escape from it. Not that I haven’t tried.”
Of course he has. I would. “Is that what you were doing in Baer Abbey that day?” It suddenly dawns on me that we’ve never spoken of the first time we met.
He nods. “I thought there might be a chance they were hidden there, that my father had missed something. And what were you doing at Baer that day?”
“Nothing, really. I was exploring, I guess.”
“Did the queen send you? Because I wasn’t even supposed to