Chapter 9
Lyra
Silence thickened in the corridor until the pressure of it knocked against my skull. Brynn stood at one shoulder, Auki at my other.
Brynn told me I’d stolen a crown from her grasp, then said nothing more. Together, they’d dragged me deeper into the royal house in silence.
Unlike Stonegate, there weren’t endless stairwells and doorways here. Instead, long passages encased a large center courtyard. Rows of willows, natural creeks, and full shrubs with green blossoms were visible through the narrow, bubbled glass windows.
The grounds might’ve been lovely and serene save for the pairs of Dark Watch warriors striding down the dirt paths and the two Dravens forcing me farther from the protection of their prince.
When we rounded the corner, I let out a rough breath.
Gunter Blackvale leaned against the post of an arched doorway, one knee bent so his boot pressed flat against the wall.
He didn’t look up to acknowledge our presence, seemingly wholly invested in using his knife to peel around the beds of his fingernails.
Auki cleared his throat, and Gunter lifted his chin. A grin flashed over his sharp features, still lined in kohl and painted runes. “Ah, found the melder.”
I shook off Brynn’s hold and took a step toward Gunter. Foolish of me, no mistake, but he’d sworn to Roark that he’d see to it I was safe during the council, and I had little choice but to trust the man.
“Come on, then, best to get you behind closed doors and away from all us frightening Draven folk.” Gunter winked and nudged the door open with his toe.
“It is not Draven blood I fear.” I kept my back to the wall and slid past Gunter, attention focused on the blade now sheathed on his belt.
“Clearly,” Auki said, shoving between both of us. “Since she’s bedding the prince.”
Heat flushed my face. His sister had practically declared me her rival, and he spoke his assumptions so blithely.
Strange, but laughter followed.
Even Brynn fought a smile.
I shook away the odd interaction and stepped into the room. My heart fell to my stomach in such relief, I nearly stumbled over my first step. “Emi!”
Seated on a wooden chair, a book made of blue leather on her lap, Emi jolted at my shout. Her face had been scrubbed of the dirt and sweat from the wood, and her pale hair was free down her back.
“Lyra!” Emi scrambled from the chair, the book falling to the floorboards, and rushed across the room. In the next heartbeat her arms were choking off my air from her embrace. “Gods, Gunter hid me away the instant he saw the fara pack, and I-I-I didn’t know…”
Her voice cracked and faded against my shoulder.
“Are you all right?” The pain of deceit and anger from Emi’s secrets faded in the face of her emotions.
She pulled back and proffered a small smile. “I’m fine. I’m a little cleaner, and Gunter saw to it I had a bit of pheasant.”
“Don’t know why you’re so damn surprised.” Gunter sealed the latch over the door, locking us into the room. “Said I’d look after you lot”—he opened his arms, a snide sort of grin on his face—“so here I am. Looking after you.”
My grip slid to Emi’s wrist, a bolster for her or me, I didn’t know. “Then why send them?”
Gunter’s attention shifted to Brynn and Auki when I used my chin to point their way. “Brynn and Auki tend to the wolf packs of the Dark Watch, including Virki’s. They were nearby and eager to join in the fun.”
Emi stiffened at the mention of her father.
Auki went to a small table with a wooden ewer and horn and poured himself a drink the color of sea-foam. “The queen didn’t speak the exact truth. She summoned us. Not Gunter.”
“Makes a bit of sense. Your queen wishes me dead.”
Auki peered at Gunter over the rim of his horn, his brow furrowed. “Why does she think we’re all going to slit her up? She was skittish the whole way here.”
They couldn’t be so thick in their heads.
“It’s not a coincidence my aunt asked Brynn,” Emi said over my shoulder.
“Exactly,” I blurted before I could think to stop. “What you told me about you and Roark is enough motivation to want me dead.”
Brynn sat in one of the wooden chairs tucked in a corner. “You think I want you dead because my arranged betrothal from childhood is broken?”
“You said I stole your crown.”
“Well, didn’t you?” Brynn was a strong woman, beautiful and frightening. But when she smiled, her entire countenance softened like the calm of dawn. “Dravenmoor is on the brink of war. By all means, Melder, take the damn crown. I don’t want it.”
What sort of game was this?
“I think we’ll need to speak a little plainer,” Gunter said, low and like he was trying to whisper but wanted me to hear all the same. “She doesn’t trust a word from our mouths.”
“Why should she?” Emi snapped. “Our clan has wanted to kill her all her life.”
“True enough.” Gunter leaned against the wall, arms folded over his chest. “But I’d still like a bit of credit for not even attempting to kill you, Melder. A mark of good faith, don’t you think?”
“Same for me,” Auki said through a long gulp from his horn.
Much like my first interactions with Prince Thane, when I was certain King Damir would slaughter Kael and bind me in an iron cage, my head reeled at the oddities of their words, their actions.
I turned back toward Brynn—Roark’s betrothed.
Desire for power rotted the corridors of Stonegate. Even in my old town Skalfirth, I’d witnessed more than one hopeful father step into Jarl Jakobson’s hall, attempting to marry daughters to his heir, Mikkal.
True, Brynn had not drawn her blade, but doors were closed and fewer eyes were watching now.
She held my scrutiny with a touch of her own before she spoke. “Our father was a trusted adviser and friend to King Vishon. Naturally, our houses would arrange a bond. My betrothal was decided three days after my birth. The prince had not even met a full season of life.”
“You speak as though it was nothing to you, yet you made your position known straightaway.”
“I simply thought that by telling you, it would explain why Virki Wolfstone was so delighted at the sight of us. By sending you with us, Elisabet was appeasing the bloodlust many Dravens hold for your craft. They will think we are mistreating you.”
“A little brilliant if you think about it. I’ll accept praise for being part of the scheme whenever you wish to give it,” Gunter said, still picking at his fingernails.
They spoke almost…playfully. I didn’t understand any of it.
“So”—I cleared my throat and unfurled my fists—“you don’t desire him?”
Brynn’s lips curled with a new sort of cunning. “I didn’t, until I saw how damn stunning that man has become. Gods, did you see the size of him? The pure feral rage in his eyes? His hands.” Brynn hummed in delight until her brother strode past and shoved her shoulder, laughing.
Something bitter knotted in my chest, something like jealousy. The hands of Roark Ashwood had been mine not so long ago, and for the first time I would admit—to myself alone—that I did not want those damn hands to touch anyone but me.
Now Brynn laughed. “Stop looking at me like you want to pluck out my eyes. I’m not going to seduce the prince away from you.”
“But you do desire him.”
“In truth, woman to woman, I just desire someone.” Brynn slouched in the chair. “Do you know how difficult it is to find a proper man to bed you when you were playmates with most of them? They start to see you as one of the men, not a lover with, frankly, unmet needs.”
“Ahh, stop.” Auki flinched, waving one hand. “You have never been bedded, and if I find out any bastard has ever tried, he will lose his hands.”
Brynn snorted and Gunter made a sensual sort of gesture at her until her brother rammed his fist into Gunter’s chest.
Emi took in her fellow Dravens, a little befuddled, like she’d expected viciousness and instead was met with…this.
At long last, Brynn sobered. “I was eleven when Roark was exiled, Melder. We knew of our betrothal, but our souls never fashioned a bond. Such things tend to make themselves clear.”
“How?”
Brynn lifted one shoulder. “I hear it’s different for everyone who is fortunate to find the other half of their soul. But it’s a feeling, a draw to them, a love so deep you cannot fathom a world without them.”
I hugged my own middle against the rush of heat in my belly. Roark Ashwood had pulled me into his maelstrom of darkness from the moment I met his eyes in the great hall in Skalfirth.
“But not everyone finds a sjeleven,” Brynn explained. “You know what that is, right?”
I nodded briskly. “Most clans have some version of mates of the soul.”
“Good. The prince and I made a vow as young ones that should either of us find a soul bond, then we would be free to seal it if desired.”
“Seal it?”
“It completes a bond,” Gunter offered. “It’s a powerful ceremony and only done to those whose souls connect.”
A shadow coated Brynn’s features. “I was young but understood well enough my prince, my friend, was torn in two because his soul had the misfortune of craving the forbidden.”
Angry tears burned behind my eyes. From exhaustion, from resentment, from knowing that Roark’s belief that his soul brightened when it came near mine had destroyed his life. “And? Now what do you say?”
“I say I’m glad to see him again,” said Brynn. “I always told myself I would defend his bond should he find one, but I won’t mince words—I don’t trust you. You seem to resist him, and after all he has sacrificed by going beyond the gates of the Jorvan keep, I don’t care for it.”
“The man I fell in…the man I knew was a warrior loyal to the Jorvan prince. Not a prince himself and not Skul Drek. Two sunrises ago, everything I thought I knew unraveled. Forgive me if I seem untrusting of everyone, it is only because I am.” Each word slid through my teeth, sharp and lined with venom.
“Do you want me to sympathize with you and your broken heart, Melder?” Brynn tilted her head to one side. “It pales in comparison to him losing his freedom, his soul, and nearly his life.”
“You think I don’t understand all that?” A tear fell onto my cheek and I furiously swiped it away.
“Do you think I don’t know exactly what he has lost because he keeps choosing me?
I hold that truth heavy in my heart. But Dravens are not the only ones who’ve suffered losses.
My family was slaughtered during the raids; my brother is trapped at Stonegate, likely being tortured because of me; and I am here, a captive of the clan who would revel in my death. ”
For a long moment no one spoke. When it felt as though the silence would crush me into the floorboards, Gunter finally broke.
“Fair enough.” He shoved off the wall and strode across the room, pausing two paces away.
“You may not trust us because we are Draven—no, don’t deny it.
” He held up a palm when I began to protest. “We don’t trust Jorvans and Myrdans because of their blood either.
But what you can trust is that the souls in this room are loyal to Roark Ashwood.
If he says he is bonded to you, then we honor that and will do all we can to defend you like we will defend him. ”
Bitterness was there, an urge to see them all as ruthless for allowing such brutality to befall their supposed playmate. But in truth, they’d all been young ones. Likely frightened, confused, and mourning losses from their clan as much as the rest of the kingdoms.
Gunter had protected Emi as he had vowed.
Brynn was expected to despise me, to want to be rid of the woman standing in the way of her royal title, but she had led me here. Safe.
My heart ached and I did not know when it might stop.
Fadey knew he had everything to leverage against me.
He had Kael, and no doubt he’d turned Thane and Yrsa against us by now.
Hilda and Edvin were taken to Stonegate because they had the misfortune of living in the same village as me when I was taken.
What would become of them and their families?
Fadey could torture anyone I’d ever cared for.
I had little I could use to threaten Fadey.
Unless we found the bones of the Wanderer.
Battles were brewing and my army was made of a few people who had been raised to seek out my destruction.
Pride, fear, resentment—I needed to place them all to the side. I would never reach Kael without a bit of trust for Emi and Roark. To secure even a tentative alliance with a few more Dravens filled with loyalty complexes might not be so wretched.
I let my shoulders relax for the first time since the Dark Watch ambushed us in the wood.
The moment I parted my lips to offer a bit of reluctant trust, glass cracked and shattered. The hiss of an arrow sliced across the room. I had no time to think before screams rattled the chamber walls.