Page 120 of Fate's Wicked Oath

“Why didn’t I just murder the Lord myself?”

Faren winced as if he’d insulted me.

He wasn’t wrong to wonder, though. I’d been tempted on more than one occasion. “If I got caught, I wouldn’t be able to fight my way out.”

“So you needle him instead,” Faren concluded. “Fuck,” he added on a laugh. “Slaying monsters, slowing down the Lord’s plot—you’ve done more for the realm than I could ever dream.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“When was the last time you stole it?”

“Recently.”

“So, right before the start of our mission,” Faren guessed. “Where did you put it?”

I smiled at him as warmly as I could. “That, Faren, is one thing I ought not tell you.”

“Probably for the best,” Faren conceded. “If the Lord suspected I knew anything about it, my Oath would most certainly force me to confirm…”

“Exactly,” I replied.

“Who else have you told?”

“My parents know that I stole the Ledger of the Order of the Sovereign one time, but not about the rest. The Valiant know that I break into Castle Might to move Ledgers around, but they don’t know which one I target. I suspect the Lord is too incensed and embarrassed to tell anyone among the Knighthood the full truth; his ledgermasters are probably aware of the break-ins, but it’s unlikely they know it’s me.” I paused, forcing some levity into my tone. “How does it feel, knowing more of my secrets than anyone else?”

“Do I?” Faren inquired softly, as if my trust meant therealmto him. He drew himself taller in his saddle. “I suppose I feel rather smug.”

“Smug?”

“Yes, because now I amcertainyou like me,” he said. “There’s no denying it, so don’t even try.”

“I suppose,” I said at length, “that I’ve come to find you tolerable.”

“Ah,” Faren gushed, “no finer words have ever been spoken to me.” A wicked grin. “Except, perhaps, hearing you say ‘Please’ in that breathy, begging way you do.”

A tingling awareness spread through my core in anticipation of later, when I might beg him like that again.

“What about you?” I asked, steering us into less heady territory. “Have any secrets you’d like to share with me?”

“Nothing nearly as intriguing or relevant as yours.” He gave me a doting look, one that faded into thoughtfulness. “Here’s one: I tell people—I tellmyself—that I came to Fenrir seeking Mighty Knighthood because I wanted to make a name for myself before my Fate.” He raked his hair off his forehead, only for a soft wave to fall immediately forward again. “The truth is that I felt lost in Lothgaim. As a second son, I was unimportant to our line, and court life was both tedious and purposeless. I always felt like I blended into the furniture.”

The idea of him blending in—when he stood out so plainly to me in every room we entered—was hard for me to imagine.

“So you became a Mighty Knight to escape your family?” I asked. “That’s hardly a dark secret.”

“I became a Mighty Knight because I wanted to stand out. It’s a vain reason.”

“The Oath wouldn’t have accepted you if you weren’t devoted to your charge,” I pointed out.

He sighed. “Of course I love the realm, but I also want to matter within it. A better knight wouldn’t concern himself with glory. I should be more altruistic, but I have this insatiable urge to prove myself—prove my worth outside my family name—and with my Fate looming, there’s a desperation to it. Most folksassociate Mighty Knighthood with confidence and honor, and I guess I’d hoped the title would grant me those, but I’ve never been able to escape this feeling that I’m…grasping.”

No wonder he’d clung so tightly to his duty at the beginning of this journey; no wonder he’d been so distraught to learn the truth. No wonder he was determined to hold onto his Oath above all else. He’d said it plainly back in Brine:It’s who I am.

How could anyone compete with that?

It felt like a wedge between us. A fundamental difference.Your desires have become a fascination of mine, he had told me, but never—I knew—would they supersede this. As much as I selfishly wished his Oath wasn’t so important to him, I also admired his loyalty and dedication. They were two of his best qualities—even if he would never aim them directly at me.

“We’re all grasping for something, Faren,” I said.