Maybe it would be worth it.
The crossbow is where I left it, in the drawer of Dain’s desk. I draw it out, c**k it back, and point it at Cardan. He draws a ragged breath.
“You’re going to shoot me?” He blinks. “Right now?”
My finger caresses the trigger. I feel calm, gloriously calm. This is weakness, to put fear above ambition, above family, above love, but it feels good. It feels like being powerful.
“I can see why you’d want to,” he says, as though reading my face and coming to some decision. “But I’d really prefer if you didn’t.”
“Then you shouldn’t have smirked at me constantly—you think I am going to stand being mocked, here, now? You still so sure you’re better than me?” My voice shakes a little, and I hate him even more for it. I have trained every day to be dangerous, and he i
