A Heart So Fierce and Broken (The Cursebreaker Series) Read Online Free PDF Page B

guards, with her brown hair bound into a tight braid that hangs trapped beneath her armor. She wears no adornments on her lean body, no kohl darkens her eyes or rouge brightens her cheeks, but anyone can see the gentle beauty in her face. Parrish is equally lean, slighter of build than many of the men, but he’s quick and skilled. Many think he is quiet, but I know he’s simply careful with his words. When I’m alone with my guards, he’s rather funny. In fact, he can often pull a smile out of Sorra with barely more than a glance.
    My sister is studying me. Her voice finally drops until it is almost inaudible. “Lia Mara. Do you fancy Parrish?”
    “What? No! Of course not.”
    Her eyes scrutinize my face. “Do you fancy Sorra?”
    “No.” I finally meet her eyes. “I fancy …” My voice trails off, and I sigh.
    “Who?” She giggles and shifts closer. “Oh, you must tell me.”
    “I fancy the idea of a man fancying me.” My blush deepens. “I fancy the idea of a companion.”
    “Ugh.” She rolls onto her back, disappointed. “You are a princess, Lia Mara. They all fancy you.”
    That is decidedly untrue. No man at court seeks a woman who would rather discuss extensive strategy or ancient mythology than display her skills on the battlefield—or in a ballroom. “I do not want a man to fancy me because I am Karis Luran’s daughter. I do not want someone’s attention because he believes I will bring him political favor in our mother’s court.”
    “Well. That is all the women of our bloodline are worth to any man.”
    Her voice is so practical—this doesn’t seem to bother her at all. Maybe she wasn’t teasing about bedding the prince or asking me to experience it first so I can describe it to her. Maybe my sister looks at such a thing as just another royal obligation. Something else to practice so she can be perfect.
    I flop down on the blankets beside her, staring up at the darkening panels of fabric. “This is why I am far more enamored of the men in my stories.”
    “Oh, I am certain those dry pages keep you quite warm at night.”
    “You’re so vulgar.” I giggle and turn my head to look at her.
    She makes a lewd gesture and grins. I smack her hand away, and she laughs.
    I know she will make an exceptional queen, but I want to remember my sister just like this, with a soft smile only for me, no vicious determination in her gaze.
    A shout echoes through the camp, followed by more yelling, and then a girl screams. A man speaks rapidly in the common tongue of Emberfall, his accent much thicker than the one our tutor has. It takes me a moment to parse out the words.
    “Please,” he is saying. “We mean no harm. Please allow us passage.”
    Nolla Verin is already through the panels of our tent, and I am quick to follow.
    Our guards have built a fire, and a few hare hang on a spit above it. No one is paying attention to the food, though. Tik and Dyhl have their crossbows trained on a middle-aged man who is on his knees, crouched over a young girl, blocking her with his body. A thick beard covers most of his face. A few brown pelts lie in a pile beside him.
    My mother stands in the firelight, tall and lean and striking, her red hair hanging straight to her shoulders. “What is your business here?” she says.
    “I am a trapper,” he says. “I saw your fire and thought—” He breaks off with a gasp as Dyhl moves close enough to drive the point of his crossbow into the man’s back. From where he stands, if Dyhl pulls the trigger, the force of the weapon will drive the arrow into both the man and the girl.
    “I-I-I am unarmed,” the man stammers.
    “You wear a knife at your hip,” says my mother. It’s right there in plain sight. She doesn’t suffer fools.
    His hand shifts as if to go for the weapon, but Tik, standing in front of him, lifts his crossbow just a hair. The man’s hand goes up as if to prove he’s harmless. “The knife is dull!” he cries. The girl whimpers underneath