Chapter Seven
Rion’s brow furrowed, staring at his brother as if the High Lord had completely lost his mind. “Care to run that by me again?” He couldn’t believe the words that had just come out of Alec’s mouth.
Alec didn’t even look at him as he repeated. “I want you to kidnap the High Lady of Móirín.”
“Because of land?”
His brother studied the glass of wine in his hand. Tilted it so the liquid caught the nearby candlelight. “Can you do it?”
“You’ll be breaking a centuries-old treaty. Are you really willing to go to war?”
“I thought war might entice you.” With anyone else, Rion wouldn’t have hesitated. Hell, he’d rather kidnap the High Lord himself than ever lay a hand on Lillian.
“What do you want me to do? Sneak in and steal her from right under the guards’ noses?” He’d studied the city before. He could probably figure out a way in but . . . he couldn’t do that to her.
“As fun as it would be to watch the High Lord scramble afterward, no. I’ve received reports that she frequents the outskirts of Levea and often only has a few guards as her escort. She’s made herself an easy target.”
Rion clenched his fists. He’d made her an easy target. “Why is this so important?”
“We need access to the river. It’s necessary, and negotiations aren’t going well. Things have taken . . . a bloody turn, as I’m sure you’re aware.” He was. Their two countries had been on the brink of war for the better part of five years. It had started with petty squabbling, of course, then someone had wound up dead and neither party wanted to admit fault.
Alec met his gaze. “You’re not to harm her under any circumstances. If I know Lillian well enough, she’ll likely try to negotiate on her husband’s behalf.” He sipped his wine. “There’s a safe house along the edge of the border.” Alec pointed to a folder on the far table. “The details are in there. Hold her and wait for further instructions. Once the High Lord complies, we’ll release her and be done with it.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“She’s his mate. He will.”
Rion hissed through his teeth. He knew why Alec had picked him. Because if anything went wrong, then Rion would be the one to blame. Or so Alec hoped. Rion had never known his brother to be stupid before, but this—Rion clenched his fists. This wasn’t how one worked with their allies.
“When?” Rion asked.
“In two days. I’ve assembled a tea—”
“No.” The word was out before Alec could finish his sentence.
“This isn’t like—”
“I don’t give a damn,” Rion interrupted again. “The answer is no. Whoever you need to send can arrive afterward. I go alone, or you can find someone else.”
“You’re refusing?”
Rion crossed his arms. “It’s within my right.”
Alec watched him carefully and after a moment, leaned back in his chair. “Fine. They’ll arrive afterward, but they have a specific job to do. I’d appreciate it if they returned intact.”
Rion didn’t smile. “You tell them to keep their magic and blades to themselves and there won’t be a problem.”
Rion grabbed the folder from the desk and pivoted on his heel before marching from the throne room.
Shit.
Shit .
Of all the Fae he didn’t want to encounter. She’d been trying to uncover his identity for years. Less so now that she had younglings of her own, but still, she’d never relented. If he got anywhere near her, she’d catch his scent and know exactly who’d been dropping slaves at their gates.
She was a High Lady. Rion wondered if his brother had forgotten exactly what that meant. What it had meant for their mother. To fight her would likely shake the very foundations of Levea. And alert everyone in the city.
He’d need another way to get close to her. Rion just wasn’t sure he liked the idea.