Page 132 of Fate's Wicked Oath

The question was classic Warner—goading, crass, and more in jest than judgement—yet still, it grated. Faren had no interest in speaking behind Mariana’s back, and while he knew his friends wouldn’t reproach him for sleeping with her, he didn’t know how three dutiful Mighty Knights would react to Faren falling in love with her.

He didn’t have to lie, though; his scowl was apparently enough for Warner to assume the answer wasnoand flick the coin in Lee’s direction.

The archer caught the gold and pocketed it with a smirk. “Faren is too straitlaced to risk his Oath for a lay,” Lee stated, giving Warner a chiding look. “Unlikeyou.”

“Do tell,” Faren said, but he hardly listened as his friend launched into a story about a recent dalliance with an apprentice at the Collegium.

Straitlaced.Once, that descriptor would’ve been a point of pride, but Faren wasn’t the same man he’d been when he left. Visiting with his friends only made that change more stark. As they continued to fill him in on the latest gossip among the ranks—who was sleeping with whom, who insulted whom, the most promising new recruits, and tales from their duties—he felt rather like a Faren Impersonator than the real thing. A stranger masquerading as their friend.

“—but tell us about you,” Shae said. “How was Yar? Did the reports hold true?”

“Yar was…” Faren regarded each of his friends in turn, their faces lit by the golden reflections of their armor. “Tragic.” He shifted on the bed, wincing at the twinge of pain in his leg. “Did you know that the Valiant requested aid and were refused?”

Lee folded his arms. “Is that what Mariana told you?”

The disdain in his voice smarted, but Faren understood. He used to harbor the same contempt. Worse, even.

“The town looked like it had seen battle,” Faren said. “Completely destroyed. No survivors.”

“Fates,” Shae muttered. “I thought the Valiant’s reports were an exaggeration.”

Faren shook his head. “If anything, they understated the destruction.”

“You were gone much longer than any of us anticipated,” Lee remarked. “Were you there the whole time?”

“Your report must’ve been thorough,” Warner cut in. “Promotion-worthy, perhaps?”

Faren had already forgotten about the Fates-damned promotion. “Actually…”

His friends were clapping and hollering before he could get the words out, smacking him on the back and jostling his leg with their congratulations. Faren braced against their onslaught, feeling like a liar all over again. How could he explain to them that being Captain was no longer a victory? That the shame he’d expressed to Mariana—his old quest for glory—now felt paltry compared to the precariousness of the coming coup? That while he still valued his Oath, his status mattered less to him now that he knew the truth?

“Faren, has the infection in your leg gone to your head?” Shae asked. “Why aren’t you being a smug fuck right now?”

“She’s right, he’s positivelypale.” Warner took a single step back. “You aren’t going to vomit, are you?”

“Something’s amiss,” Lee said. “What did you uncover in Yar?”

Guilt swam through Faren’s stomach, slippery as a fish. He couldn’t stand it. They deserved to know about the Lord. These strong, jovial, principled, well-meaning people—longtime friends, knights he respected deeply—were endangered by Faren’s silence and secrecy.

Abruptly, Faren gripped Shae’s vambrace-clad forearm.

She wrenched herself free. “Ugh, don’t smudge the metal.”

“Listen, before the healer returns,” Faren whispered sharply. “There’s something you should know about—”

“I’ve heard rumors about a Valiant uprising,” Warner cut in. “Is that—”

“The rumors are true,” Faren interrupted. “But this isn’t about that.” The trio crowded closer as Faren dropped his voice to an almost-inaudible whisper. “Have you ever wondered where the Morta came from?”

“The geothermal pools,” Shae stated. “Everyone knows that.”

“No,” Faren said. “No, they were—” A sharp stab of pain hit the back of Faren’s throat, and he choked, coughing into his fist. “Fuck.” A furious indignance rose inside him. He couldn’t fight his Oath—not without breaking it and alerting the Lord’s ledgermasters—but he tried again anyway, burning with desperation. “Lord Ha—” A hot poker to his throat.

Faren squeezed his eyes shut, spluttering.

“Your Oath,” Lee said.

“Fates,” Shae swore. “You know something we don’t.”