Page 155 of Fate's Wicked Oath

A groan. “I could’ve gone my whole life without seeing that.”

Faren peered around Mariana toward the foot of his bed, where his sisters were piling in. Mariana extricated herself as if she’d been caught thieving and stood with her hands clasped behind her back. Her tawny skin was turning a very pretty shade of mauve at the cheeks, and she bit her lips between her teeth. His heart throbbed with affection at the sight of her embarrassment. It took considerable self-control not to yank her into his arms again.

Faren glared at his sisters. “You could’ve announced yourselves before flinging back the curtain,” he pointed out.

“Didn’t expect you to be doingthatin your sickbed,” Persephone replied.

With a snort, he took them in. Eva had a nasty bruise on her forehead, Kate had a scratch on her cheek, Beatrice’s hair was a mess, and Persephone looked entirely unharmed. In spite of the interruption, he was thoroughly relieved to see them—but the feeling, at present, seemed entirely one-sided.

The foursome was too preoccupied with Mariana’s presence, staring with varying looks of interest ranging from wary (Kate) to swooning (Eva).

“And who’s this?” Beatrice asked, coming farther into the makeshift room.

“Mariana,” Faren said. “She’s the reason I’m still alive, so be nice.”

“You saved our brother?” Persephone asked.

Mariana’s nod was subdued, singular.

“I remember you,” Eva exclaimed. “You’re the knight who gallantly came to my aid.” She turned toward her sisters. “She’s the one who saved me from being trampled.”

“Is this true?” Kate asked Mariana.

Another modest nod.

Eva laced her fingers in front of her chest. “Thank you.”

Mariana’s smile was tight.

Faren stared at her, perplexed by her tense demeanor. Under his sisters’ scrutiny, Mariana looked rather like a startled doe, and he realized with fond amusement that her embarrassment had turned intonervousness.

Faren changed the subject to give her some reprieve. “How are Mother and Father? Rown?”

“Father and Rown have been in meetings with Archer all day,” Kate said. “Mother claims to have a headache, but I think in truth she’s still quite shaken. She said she’d come down to see you later.”

Phina had already confirmed for him that his family was in good health, but Faren breathed a little deeper hearing the details from Kate.

He was about to inquire about the nature of Archer’s meetings when Beatrice—not one to be distracted from the most interesting thing in any room—turned to Mariana again. “Is that your sword?” she asked, pointing at Windthorn, which rested in its scabbard across the wooden chair in the corner.

“Yes,” Mariana replied.

“Can I hold it?”

“No,” Faren said.

Beatrice folded her arms across her chest and scowled.

Persephone came a little farther into the room. “I’ve thoroughly studied the history of the kingdom, and not once have I read about creatures so vile as those we witnessed last night,” she said. “Explain.”

Faren was in such a habit of avoiding the topic and navigating the confines of his Oath that for a moment, he merely winced, forgetting that he was no longer limited in his speech. When he did reply, he felt like he was speaking around a mouthful of linen, so foreign it was to be so frank. “They’re called Morta. They are knights altered by alchemy and arcane magic. Lord Haron went to great lengths to keep their secret. I’m sure Archer wishes to contain the secret for now, too, until more is understood.”

“But you knew?” Eva asked.

“About the Morta’s existence, yes,” he replied. “About the Lord’s culpability, not until very recently.”

“Did she know?” Persephone asked of Mariana.

“Yes,” he said. “She helped me learn the full truth.”