Sewn & Scarred (The Fated Creations Trilogy #3)

Chapter Twenty-FourSage

Chapter Twenty-Four

Sage

I tilted my head so that my hair fell to conceal my tear-stained face as I walked past the guard. I held my breath so he couldn’t hear the way it wanted to waiver at my tears, and walked down the hallway and away from him.

He didn’t hear the fight, and I didn’t want to show weakness in front of him.

My father hated weakness.

But as soon as I was a few hallways away, I ducked into an empty bedroom in the castle and flattened myself against its shut door, and sobbed. I clapped my hand over my mouth to try to quiet the sound, so any Vasi nearby wouldn’t hear.

Because everything that Evaline had said, had accused me of, was true. I was just as liable for everything that had happened to them as my father was, as Lauden was, but I was the only one who cared for them while betraying them.

And even though I’d tried to stop it, even though I pushed her mother away—because Alannah was the one in danger, she was the one my father wanted—I wasn’t good enough to save Evaline, too.

I wasn’t ever good enough.

What my father called his study, was really a war room. There were books on the walls that he read frequently, but the desk remained untouched. He didn’t use this room to run his kingdom, his people, or his castle. Broderick, his right-hand man, did most of that for him.

Instead, my father spent most days standing at the edge of the wooden carved table in front of him. The one with markings of a map. It showed the different kingdoms on Brassillion and the two islands on either side. Figurines stood at attention, representing all the different Kova and Vasi distributed throughout the lands.

He used the room for plotting.

As I approached his door I heard Broderick’s voice carry through it.

That was one thing I missed about Rominia. The walls and doors weren’t built for soundproofing, here.

“The others don’t understand why you won’t just go to war. We have everything in place, and they’re getting antsy.”

My father sighed. “I don’t know when I asked for any of their input. I’m the First and I will say when we are ready.”

There was a pause before Broderick spoke again.

“They’ve been waiting decades, centuries for those who’ve been with you the longest, for this war. They don’t understand why you won’t wage it when you have all of the prerequisites that you asked for. There are plenty of soldiers, and now the Sorceress.”

“Not yet,” my father responded. “There’s one more thing I need.”

Broderick sighed. “Is that what you want me to tell them?”

My father’s response was quick and his tone clipped.

“How about you tell them that if they have these questions, they can come ask them to me directly? Sage.” I jumped at the sound of my name being called, of being caught listening. “Come in.”

Broderick nodded at me as he walked past and I could see the flush of frustration over his fair complexion. After the door closed behind him I walked toward my father, forcing my eyes to look anywhere but the painting that hung behind him.

He looked up as I entered, straightened, and held out his hand.

I pulled out Evaline’s note and handed it to him.

He unrolled it in his fingers but looked up at me in the process and must have noticed my red, swollen eyes.

His brows tilted down in confusion. “Why were you crying?”

I fidgeted with the strap of my satchel as I stood in the crevice of the table where Rominia sat.

“It’s nothing.”

He let out an exasperated breath and threw his head back in an eye roll.

“Sage, please tell me you are not still feeling sympathetic to the Kova cause.”

I swallowed and shook my head. “I’m just adjusting to being back.”

He cocked his head and rounded the table to stand in front of me, trapping me in the crevice of the island.

“You knew them for a few months. Evaline, even less,” he said, then softened his features and lifted a hand to his chest. “I have been your father for your entire life.”

Almost my entire life. But he always left that first bit out.

“Your loyalties should lie with me. I am your family.”

I nodded. “My loyalties do lie with you, Father. I’m just not as well equipped to play a double role as Lauden is.” I shrugged. “Befriending them and then betraying them, it’s weighing harder on me than I was prepared for,” I lied.

The truth was that the day my father turned Maddox, when he said that I was nothing while Maddox held steadfast in his fight for me, I’d given up on my father. I was prepared to convince Lauden to turn from the Vasi cause with me, but before I got to do any of that, Evaline told me about her ability to see her mother in the Night, and all my training from my father, every rant I’d ever heard him spew about Alannah, every day he spent telling me that my magic wasn’t as strong or as powerful as hers, kicked in. And it was as if I no longer commanded my actions. As if I were a puppet, and someone else had been pulling the strings.

My father looked at me for a moment, and I was sure he could tell I was lying, but instead of an accusation on his lips, there was an insult.

His face dropped into a look of boredom. “You’re still weak.” He sighed and shook his head as he turned to stride to a chair to read the note. “I’d hoped this task would strengthen you. That you’d find your purpose in this cause and flourish in it. But you crumbled in the end. You cost me the Sorceress I’ve searched for through my entire Vasi life, and presented me with only second-best,” he growled as he sank into his chair.

I swallowed back the tears and stood rod straight as he read the note. When he was done he rolled it back up and lifted it for me to come grab. “It’s fine. Go on.”

I crossed the room to his chair and reached for the parchment, but he didn’t let go. My eyes snapped to his to find them locked intently on mine.

“Sage,” he said, his tone a warning as he leaned closer to me. “Do not ever disappoint me again.”

It was the first time we’d had any time alone since I’d returned, and I should’ve known I was due for a lecture.

I nodded. “Yes, Father. I’m sorry.”

He kept my gaze for a moment before nodding and letting me go.

I turned to cross the room again to exit, and as I placed my hand on the knob, he called out my name.

I froze and turned to look at him.

“Yes?”

“Your weakness has no place here, anymore. Fix it, or I’ll be forced to do it for you. Remember? Being weak is a luxury—”

“Only the great are afforded. Yes. I know,” I said, and without waiting for a response, I slipped out of the door.