Chapter 2
H aving been on both sides of torture more than I cared to think about, I could acknowledge that there were, indeed, worse things than being forced to attend a Summit at Iiro’s dramatic whims.
But not many.
Unfortunately, I had no choice but to answer the summons of my least favorite Clan Leader. I could hardly risk my father deciding to represent our clan himself, given that he was likely to start a war in his current state. Though relations between the clans were uncertain, to refuse a Summit altogether would be an insult at best, an act of war at worst.
I wasn’t sure why I cared at this point, when nothing I did seemed to matter. Years of trying to circumvent my father’s insanity, as well as his wife’s cruelty, hadn’t washed the blood from my hands or silenced the screams that echoed in my head when I tried to sleep at night.
Still, I was keeping more of my people alive than I was needlessly slaughtering, and I couldn’t bring myself to remove whatever dubious protection I offered them from my father.
So here I was, playing a tenuous game while also trying to figure out what Iiro’s was.
Socairans from all nine clans milled about the Summit grounds. Tents stretched out around the open fields, with food carts and merchants lining the makeshift roads between them.
Like this was some sort of festival, and not another power play that might divide our clans even further.
While my men set up our camp, I made my way to the sparring ring. A large crowd was gathered, watching the latest fight, some of them placing bets on the winners while others conversed in low tones.
I slowly passed through the group toward the ring, listening for any information that might be useful to me along the way, and hoping I would be fortunate enough to witness my old friend, Korhonan, getting punched in the face. That mental image must have been more distracting than I realized, because it took me longer than it should have to realize that something in the crowd was decidedly off.
There was a girl. Standing casually in the middle of the rowdy, sweating, decidedly all-male crowd.
Or rather, a woman, I amended, taking in the curves that even her unflattering southern dress couldn’t hide, albeit one who was shorter than most teenagers in our mountainous kingdom.
Suspicion tugged at the corners of my mind. No lady would be caught dead near the sparring ring, even in Clan Lynx, and no maid would be so bold. My gaze flitted to the surprisingly pretty face half-hidden under the shadow of her veiled headpiece as I tried to determine who she was and what she might be doing here.
She didn’t appear to be overly anxious, not averting her eyes in the slightest when Korhonan landed a particularly brutal hit. Her eyes merely darted between the two fighters as though she was…evaluating.
Interesting.
I crossed the distance between us before I had time to reconsider. I needed to know who she was. Was she actually following the fight, or simply playing a game of some sort?
“My coin is on Tuomo,” I said in the common tongue once I was within speaking distance. “He’s smaller, but he’s fast.”
I didn’t really believe that. Korhonan was clearly baiting him, but it was worth losing a little coin to get information from her.
“No.” She shook her head without looking my way. “Tuomo is wearing himself out too fast with those unrelenting strikes. Theodore is saving his energy. He’ll come in with the heavy blows soon and end this.”
There was something off about the way she spoke, her accent, but I was too busy being distracted by the things she said to focus on it. The way she stumbled over the familiarity of Korhonan’s name, the fact that she was not only watching this brawl, but analyzing it.
Seeing that I wouldn’t get much more out of her until the fight was over, I turned to watch it play out. When it was finished, she turned to me with an arrogant tilt of her lips.
I had half a second to wonder when the last time that anyone had looked at me like that had been, with no recognition, no fear, but with only a friendly sort of competition, before I noticed her eyes.
They were sparkling with curiosity and amusement, but more importantly…
They were green, clear and bright against her pale, pale skin. Socairans all had swarthy skin, with eyes that ranged from black to gray to blue, and very occasionally, hazel, but never ever this pure, unrelenting shade of verdant.
Unfortunately, I had the immense displeasure of knowing exactly what people did commonly have pale skin and green eyes, though my stepmother’s were several shades darker than the tiny stranger’s.
Damn it all to hell.
The girl was Lochlannian.
“Who are you?” I demanded.
I scanned her face again—heart-shaped with full cheeks and long, dark lashes…and deep auburn brows that undoubtedly matched the hair hidden beneath her ridiculous hat.
“Who are you ?” she countered, her raised chin contradicting the uncertainty brimming in her gaze.
It shouldn’t have made me more curious about her. This small woman, who had the nerve to challenge me so openly.
“I’m—” I started to answer her, if only to get her name in turn, when an entirely too familiar voice cut me off.
“Lord Evander,” Korhonan greeted, a little louder than necessary.
It never got less infuriating, being around one of the few people I had ever considered a friend, back before I knew better than to trust someone whose interests didn’t align perfectly with my own.
The scars on my back prickled, only adding to my annoyance, when the Elk heir placed a meaty arm around the Lochlannian’s slim waist, pulling her away from me like…like he was staking a claim.
Like she belonged to him.
Son of a…
“Did you need something?” Korhonan challenged. My fingers twitched toward the swords at my back. What I wouldn’t give to run him through with them both and end this here and now.
Instead of giving him the attention he so desperately wanted, I kept my gaze locked on the woman in his arms. She bristled, but I wasn’t sure if it was because of me or the oaf at her side.
“I asked you who you were.” It was a reminder and a demand, especially now that I knew who she had arrived with.
She arched a brow in challenge. “Ah, but you didn’t ask nicely.”
I narrowed my eyes. This Summit was a political game, but for some reason, she wasn’t playing. Unless she was, and I was missing something.
Korhonan steered her away, leading her back towards the Elk camp. Short of making a scene, there was no way to follow, so I spun toward my own camp in search of my men.
Someone had to be talking about the tiny, infuriating Lochlannian girl at the Socairan Summit, and it certainly wasn’t a coincidence that she was here right when Iiro called us to meet.
I damned sure wasn’t going to be blindsided by him again.
Not when there was more at stake than my own life this time.