I took a deep breath, trying to process all that he was confessing. “Did Ardax have a similar agreement with Lorn?” I asked.
Percy shook his head. “No. Ardax could never understand my motives for training with you. He thought I had gone soft and was betraying my clan. He was merciless to you, because he thought he was helping me.” He shrugged. “I took the bribe, and Lorn kept my secret. Except Rulah fell for the wrong elf because I’d already fallen for the wrong girl.”
“When I passed the final test, I returned to find you had left with Lorn . . . again. Every time you were away from me, I was unsettled, unable to sleep, and I couldn’t figure out why. Honor, I don’t know if you understand what I’m saying. It’s like you were my compass. When you were by my side, things made sense, and when you weren’t there, I was lost.”
“You shouldn’t say things like that,” I whispered back.
The silence grew heavy. “It’s true. There was a fire within you. I watched that spark grow to an ember, then ignite into the fiery, passionate woman you are. You cried when you were upset, got angry when you failed, and even got revenge on me, on Ardax—the more emotions you had, the stronger you became. Until that day when you turned your emotions off, when we were fighting. I saw that flame doused, and I didn’t like that you hid behind a stony exterior. Your emotions don’t make you weak. They make you strong. And I vowed that day to learn more about you, to share my emotions with you. I don’t want to hide what I’m feeling. Not anymore.”
The more Percy talked, the more my walls were crumbling. He was tearing down my defenses that I’d so carefully constructed, but no matter he’d just shared, I had to ask the question I was dreading. In the half-lit cupboard, I leaned away from him and turned to look him in the eye. Pulling up his sleeve, I revealed the dark triangle tattoo on his wrist.
“Are you—” I swallowed thickly, the moisture in my mouth drying up. “Are you the son of Allemar?”
“There’s something you have to understand. A far greater power is at work—” he began, but didn’t deny his involvement.
I cut him off as my heart started to break. “Explain this.” I held up his wrist, exposing the blood tattoo. One that could only be gained by sacrifices. “You’ve sold your soul for power, Percy.”
His head fell back against the wall of the cupboard, and he closed his eyes.
“Tell me what the southern elves are planning,” I demanded. “Tell me how to stop them? How do I free the princesses from that midnight enchantment?”
“Honor.” He opened his eyes and pleaded with me. “I can’t.”
“Can’t tell me . . . or won’t.”
He fell silent again and wouldn’t look at me. My anger rose to new heights. I couldn’t tell if he was being stubborn, or if he was bloodbound to not speak about the son of Allemar.
“Did you know about the attacks?” I asked.
Percy shook his head. “No. You have to believe me. I didn’t want this. I never wanted to hurt anyone.” His head dropped, and his voice quivered with emotion. “But I have a sworn duty to . . .” he trailed off.
“Why are you lying to me?” I stood up, grateful to have my strength back, and I used it to push away from him and fumble with the cupboard handle until it opened.
Percy reached into his jacket and pulled out a slim dagger with a black-handled blade. “For protection from Ardax . . . or if it comes to it . . . me.”
My gut twisted, and I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Lorn’s warning from years ago echoed in my mind.
Do you really know who he is?
He’s Percy.
Again, you seemed to have missed the purpose of your training completely. You still don’t know your enemy.
“Please, Honor. Don’t go looking for trouble. This is not the time nor the place for your adventures. Let things happen the way they are supposed to happen.”
“Like what happened in the Northern Woods? You’d let that massacre happen again?”
His shoulders stiffened. “Sometimes death is the only way to bring about a new beginning; a new chapter.”
“Well, your story needs a different ending,” I snapped. “If you think I won’t do everything in my power to rewrite the future, then you don’t know me at all.”
“I do know you, Honor. That’s why I’m giving you this courtesy. I don’t want to fight you because I may be forced to kill you.”
I felt my blood run cold, like a bucket of water had been dumped on my head.
“Same. What are you planning, and why drag the princesses into this?”
He shook his head, and I saw the barest flicker of remorse and regret. “You know I’m unable to say anything just as they are? Anyone that has tried to question the king’s motives has ended up dead. The real question you need to be asking is not why am I involved, but why are you?”
“What do you mean, me?” I dropped the blade to my side and hid it among the folds of my dress as footsteps came toward us.
“Don’t you think it’s odd that you arrive here in Sion, and there is a princess who looks exactly like you?”
“It’s a coincidence.”
“You don’t believe in coincidences. You’ve always trusted your gut. What does your gut tell you, Honor? Why are you here? How did you get here? And where is Princess Grace?”
The footsteps grew louder, and King Leonel came around the corner with his guards.
“There you are, Grace! I’ve been worried sick about you. You weren’t with your sisters. It’s almost time.” King Leonel came up to my side, looked up at Percy, and his face darkened. “Why didn’t you escort her back to her room?” he yelled.
“Excuse me, Your Majesty, I’m on my way to do just that.” Percy slipped past the king and grabbed my elbow, trying to usher me along.
I turned and yelled over my shoulder toward the king. “King Leonel, I will tell you where your daughters go each night, and how their slippers are destroyed.”
Percy stilled, his hand gripping my arm painfully. “Don’t,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
“Your daughters sneak through a magical painting in the princesses’ sitting room and go to the sacred hollow in Thornhaven where they are forced to dance all night to power a spell.”
“Now you did it,” Percy grumbled and stood back, his hands open at his side to show he was unarmed. We were surrounded on all sides; eight guards with swords pointed in our direction.
King Leonel turned, his hands going to his hips, his eyes wide in disbelief at my outburst. Then he leaned forward, his lips turned up into a cruel smile, and whispered so only I could hear. “You are . . . not my daughter.”
“What?” I backed up and turned to Percy. “He knows . . . ?”
Percy gave me a small nod. “I told you not to say anything.”
My heart hammered against my chest, and my hand went to my mouth as my breath froze in my lungs. I looked up at the king, whose eyes had narrowed in anger.
He grabbed my exposed wrist, looking at the jagged tree-shaped drakefowl scar. “What magic is this? Who are you?” he demanded.
“I’m Honor Eville.” I gave a small curtsy.