“No sir, I--” I struggled to come up with a lie, “--I didn’t want to wake you, and I wanted to give Po my scraps.”

“With a rucksack? In travelling clothes? Come now,” he hissed, “people only lie when they're wrong, Paris.” He stepped closer, and I had never been so afraid in my life. He smiled, offering me a hand as though it were an olive branch, “Why don’t you go back to bed and we can forget this ever happened.”

I was tempted to agree, go quietly and leave all this behind. Other champions would join the Queen’s Comradery, doubtless they’d be better than me. But my gut told me this was my last chance, so I would go if it killed me. “Not this time.”

Fury flashed across his face and the fearsome blaze from earlier rekindled in his eyes. The hand that had been a friendly one only a moment ago became a claw -- he snatched my wrist, his nails sinking deep into the soft flesh. I cried out and tried to wrench my hand from his iron grip, but he was stronger than me. He began to drag me away from the door toward my room when I remembered the knife. “Let me go!” I gained my footing enough to kick him square in the knee. He yelled, but his grasp never faltered. He ignored me. “I’m warning you,” I put my free hand on the butt of the knife.

Father laughed, his face turned away, “You’re warning me? Please, spare me. What are you going to do? You’re small and weak, that’s precisely why you can't be trusted to survive out in the world.” He forced a croon.

I took a deep breath to steady my shaky hand. With my free hand I unwrapped the knife and snuck it out. Without a second warning I slashed at his arm. He recoiled and howled, loosening his grip enough that I slipped out. He’d been holding my wrist so tight it was numb and purple. Blood beaded in the crescents left behind by his fingernails. He whirled and struck my cheek. “That was a warning,” he breathed, “Give me the dagger before you hurt someone.” At that moment, I realised he dropped the keys when he hit me -- the rug muffled the sound of their fall. He, too, realised what happened. Before he even had a second to think, I dropped to my knees and seized them where they lay. In an instant, I sprang off the ground and tackled him with my full weight. He and I went careening to the ground, his eyes widened with shock. He hadn’t even the time to blink when I thumped him with the hilt of the dagger. He lay still, but he was breathing. For a split second, I wished he weren’t.

I didn’t look back as I sprinted for the door, or when I picked up my pack, or even when I finally unlocked it and stepped over the threshold. I dropped the keys into the dirt at the bottom of the stairs, indifferent to what became of them or their owner. Humid air filled my lungs, this time sweeter and scarier than it had ever been. So much had come before that breath and so much would come after it.