Jocasta looks around the room, her blue eyes narrowed and her lips
pursed. “You need a new bed.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Last night, Griffin and I slept on the
thick sheepskin rug in front of the unlit hearth—if sleeping is what you can
call what we did for most of the night.
Griffin’s sister snorts. “I wish I could take a sword and beat the
stuffing out of something when I’m upset.”
“You can. Here.” I hand her my sword. It’s short, about the length
of a man’s arm. The hilt fits my grip perfectly, and the rounded guard is
engraved with a decorative pattern of intertwining laurel leaves. I’m thinking
about naming it. Swords need names. “I recommend the bed, but I’m not
particularly attached to that table over there.”
Jocasta glances at the upturned table with its irreparably cracked
central board. Her dark hair reflects the morning sunbeams streaming through
the open window as she approaches what’s left of the bed and then gives the
ruined mattress a good whack. Her whole body jars from the impact. She hauls
the sword up again and then thumps it back down harder. This time, the blade
sticks in the splintered bed frame. By the time she wrestles it out of the
wood, she’s panting and half her curls have slipped from their pins.
She shoves her almost blue-black hair out her face. “That was
annoying.”
I shrug. “Sometimes that happens in bone.”
Revulsion crosses her face, but instead of setting down the sword,
she strikes the bed again like she has something to prove. She keeps going,
avoiding what’s left of the frame. Stuffing erupts from the torn-up mattress,
and feathers catch in her hair, giving her a savage appearance. With her bright
sapphire eyes, flushed face, and a sword in her hand, she looks like a force to
be reckoned with.
Since Griffin turned all our chairs into firewood, I stand there,
watching with my arms crossed. “What are you upset about?” I ask.
Jocasta takes a few deep breaths and then props the sword against
the wall. “I’m not upset, exactly. I’m restless. The north wall is nearly
fixed, and the children don’t especially need my limited expertise in
construction to finish the job. The pages have all settled into their roles in
the castle. I don’t have any groundbreaking ideas for improvements to the
realm. The new healing centers and schools are Egeria’s projects, and she
doesn’t need or really even want my help, although I keep offering.” She
brushes goose down from the front of her dress, her mouth thinning.
“You’re bored.” I get that. If I weren’t so in love, which is
completely new to me, I’d probably be bored, too. As it is, I’m tired of being
confined to the castle grounds. I’m used to living mostly out in the open and
traveling with the circus. Sometimes, these walls feel like they’re closing in
on me.
Jocasta sighs. “Piers is busy recruiting new soldiers, and that’s
not exactly my domain anyway. Carver has responsibilities that Griffin trusts
him with. You have Beta Team. Father reads or sleeps most of the day. Mother
concocts herbal sludge that I can already recite the recipes for forward and
backward and use to heal most of the usual ailments. Kaia has her tutor—who’s
an old goat, by the way—but besides a few adjustments to court life, I’ve
already had my schooling and don’t need to sit in on lessons.” She eyes my
sword like she wants to start bashing things again. “I have nothing to do.”
“Life is different for you now. As a younger sibling in a royal
house, you have no real role. And even less freedom.”
She chews on her lower lip, looking annoyed. “I used to be able to
go places by myself. Ride a horse. Talk to people. Help them because they knew
me and came to me and respected me. Now I’m stuck behind these walls where no
one really needs me.”
“There are days I feel trapped, too,” I say. “But there are worse
prisons than this.”
“Yes, but everyone needs you. Especially Griffin.” Scowling, Jocasta
kicks a piece of wood across the room—debris from Griffin’s rampage. “Sintans
should see their new royals. They were nothing but welcoming on our way north
last spring. I asked if I could travel the realm, with a large guard, of
course, but Griffin won’t let me. He says it’s too dangerous.”
“He’s right.”
Her eyes flash a fierce blue. “You, too? I thought you’d
understand.”
“I do understand. But the realms are entering into a Power Bid now.
Fisa is a shadow over us all. Tarvan snakes are rattling their tails. They’ve
attacked us twice, and the last time Griffin nearly died. What do you think
they’d do if they got their hands on you?”
Jocasta doesn’t answer.
In her silence, I answer for her. “They’d tear apart everyone you
love as they came for you, and then they’d tear you apart, too.”
“Then I should learn to defend myself!” She starts pacing, her fluid
prowling reminding me of a certain Sintan warlord I know. “Teach me to fight,
Cat. Make me less of a liability. Then maybe I can have some freedom.”
The Net (Rochester Riot #6) by Colleen Charles A Curse of Queens (Kingmaker Chronicles #4) by Amanda BouchetMoon Over Hanks Hollow by Rachelle Kampen Penalty Box (Straight No Chaser #.5) by Echo Grayce 
