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Chapter Twenty-Two - What Fenwick Finally Sets Down

ผู้เขียน: Rae
last update วันที่เผยแพร่: 2026-08-11 19:44:12

Fenwick POV

Fenwick had never been good at rest. Even now, weeks into something that was supposed to resemble peace, he found himself reaching for the ledger out of habit more nights than not, turning pages he’d long since memorized simply because his hands needed something to hold while his mind refused to stop working.

Ondine found him like that most evenings, and most evenings she let him be, understanding, he suspected, that some kinds of stillness had to be earned in small doses rather tha
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  • Sold to the Broken Throne   Chapter Twenty-Six - Someone Who Knew Me Before

    Ondine POVPerpetua hugged like she fought — fast, fierce, over before you’d fully registered it had started — and pulled back to look Ondine over with the same sharp, assessing eyes Ondine remembered from the border circuit, except now there was something new underneath the usual wariness. Something that looked almost like relief.“You look different,” Perpetua said. “Good different. Fed. Not flinching every time someone raises a hand near you.” Her gaze cut briefly to the three men trailing behind, cataloguing each of them with the same fast, practical assessment she’d once used to size up which merchants at the trade post were worth trusting. “I take it these are the ones responsible for that.”“This is Corvain, Barrick, and Fenwick,” Ondine said. “And yes. Mostly them. Some of it I did myself.”“I don’t doubt that part.” Perpetua’s mouth twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile but wanted to be. “Last I heard anything solid about you, it was a rumor running the border mar

  • Sold to the Broken Throne   Chapter Twenty-Five - The Road Looks Different Now

    Ondine POVThe last time Ondine had walked a road with these three men, she’d done it in silence, arms wrapped around herself, a chain’s absence still strange on her wrist and a bond aching in her chest that she hadn’t asked for and didn’t understand.This time, Barrick was arguing with Fenwick about whether a chicken could, in fact, hold a grudge — a debate that had started somewhere around the second mile and showed no sign of resolving — and Corvain walked beside her with her hand loose in his, unhurried, nothing at all like the fast, distance-swallowing stride he’d set the night everything had started.“It absolutely can,” Barrick was saying. “That one’s hated me since the day I clipped its wing feathers. Watches me like it’s planning something.”“Chickens do not hold grudges,” Fenwick said, with the exact tone of a man who’d looked this up somewhere and was prepared to cite sources. “It’s a documented fact that domestic fowl lack the cognitive framework for sustained resentment.”

  • Sold to the Broken Throne   Chapter Twenty-Four - The Voss Letter

    Ondine POV“That’s actually everything,” Ondine said, and kissed him once more before pulling him out into the daylight, and found Fenwick and Barrick already waiting at the fire, a folded letter sitting between them like something neither of them had quite decided how to introduce.“It’s sealed with the Voss crest,” Fenwick said, by way of explanation, handing it over as Corvain settled beside the fire with Ondine tucked against his side. “I recognized the seal before I opened it. A minor holding, allied loosely with Ashgrove before the massacre — small, but with old ties to several larger houses that never fully committed to the Kessler alliance.”Corvain broke the seal and read in silence for a long moment, his expression shifting through something Ondine couldn’t quite name before he finally looked up.“It’s from a woman named Perpetua Lark,” he said. “She writes on behalf of the Voss holding’s acting matriarch, though the phrasing throughout is entirely her own voice, unmistakabl

  • Sold to the Broken Throne   Chapter Twenty-Three - What Corvain Lets Himself Need

    Corvain POVThe nightmare came the way it always did — not the massacre itself, which he’d almost trained his mind to skip over entirely after three years of practice, but the after. The empty hall. The silence where his mother’s voice should have been. He woke with his heart slamming and his hands already reaching for a blade that wasn’t there, and it took him a full, disoriented moment to remember where he actually was — Hollow Creek, the small room he shared with Ondine, her weight warm and solid beside him instead of the cold stone floor his mind kept insisting on.“You’re safe,” she said, already awake, already turned toward him, her hand finding his chest like she’d done this before and knew exactly what he needed without being told. “You’re here. Nothing’s hunting you tonight.”“I know.” His voice came out rougher than he wanted. “I know where I am. It doesn’t always stop the body from believing otherwise for a minute or two.”“Then let it take the minute or two. I’m not going

  • Sold to the Broken Throne   Chapter Twenty-Two - What Fenwick Finally Sets Down

    Fenwick POVFenwick had never been good at rest. Even now, weeks into something that was supposed to resemble peace, he found himself reaching for the ledger out of habit more nights than not, turning pages he’d long since memorized simply because his hands needed something to hold while his mind refused to stop working.Ondine found him like that most evenings, and most evenings she let him be, understanding, he suspected, that some kinds of stillness had to be earned in small doses rather than demanded all at once. But tonight she crossed the clearing and settled beside him without asking, and gently, deliberately, closed the ledger under his hands.“Not tonight,” she said.“I wasn’t reading anything important.”“You never are, anymore. You’re just holding it because it’s familiar.” She took it from his hands entirely and set it aside, out of easy reach, and the small, involuntary tension that ran through him at losing it told them both she’d read the habit correctly. “Tell me somet

  • Sold to the Broken Throne   Chapter Twenty-One - The Thing Barrick Doesn’t Say

    Barrick POVBarrick wasn’t a jealous man. He’d never had reason to be — wanting something and going after it plainly had always been enough, and he’d never once had to share the getting of it with anyone else before.He told himself that twice over, watching Ondine laugh at something Fenwick had said, her head tipped toward his shoulder in the easy, unguarded way she’d started doing lately, the ledger between them forgotten in favor of whatever quiet joke had passed between the two of them. It shouldn’t have bothered him. He’d claimed her plainly, on the road, before either of the others had earned a fraction of what he’d earned since. That should have been enough to sit steady on.It wasn’t, tonight, and he hated that it wasn’t, and he hated more that he didn’t have a clean way to say so.He took himself off to the garden instead of sitting with it, pulling weeds that didn’t need pulling with more force than the task required, and he was still out there an hour later, hands raw from

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