Chapter 43
T here was very little talking on the road. None of the familiarity amongst the men, and even the princess, like there had been on the way to the negotiations. There was only stony silence and the ever-present sound of unanswered questions racing through my head.
Even Rowan was shrewd enough to know not to push things too far with this group. I considered the way she snapped at the men when we first left the Summit. How she had insulted their pride when her underthings spilled out on the ground.
And now, though Artyom was openly staring, drool practically seeping from his over-sized mouth, she kept blessedly silent.
Which was for the best with Samu and the others watching her every move.
I didn’t want to imagine my father’s reaction to my allowing her inappropriate comments to go undisciplined.
Still, as quiet as she was and as small as she tried to make herself on the saddle in front of my cousin, she was too conspicuous, too striking—like a shock of color in an otherwise gray world. And the men couldn’t tear their eyes away from her.
Taras must have realized the same thing. He didn’t question me when I told him exactly where he and the rest of my soldiers would be sleeping, how Rowan would be in the dead center of the men I trusted most.
I planted myself firmly between my men and Samu, managing to make it look like a gesture of honor to have his sleeping roll next to mine. He likely knew better, but the men didn’t need to be privy to any contention.
While they all slept, or did an admirable job pretending, I laid awake with my hand on the hilt of one of my swords, contemplating exactly how fast it would take each of them to sneak over to her bedroll, and exactly how much of their blood would spill before they died trying.
I watched my father’s henchman the closest. I wasn’t convinced Samu wasn’t hiding another order regarding the princess, one he was just waiting for an opportune time to enact.
Beyond that, there was the issue of what awaited us at Bear.
Mairi had almost certainly told my father I was gone, and baited him into recalling us, but he still might have had his own reasons for demanding our return.
Alternatively, he might have forgotten all about those reasons by the time we arrived, which would be ideal, except that Mairi would no doubt remind him.
Der’mo.
A soft snore pulled my attention to the center of the room. Shafts of moonlight highlighted wild crimson curls and the tiny sleeping frame of the princess who was peacefully asleep while surrounded by men of whom she should have been afraid. It was a contradiction.
Just like everything else about her.
As soon as we arrived at the estate, I sent Kirill and Taras to escort Rowan to her rooms.
“Don’t leave until I return.”
They nodded grimly, and I went to face my father.
As soon as I entered his study, I could tell it was one of his lucid days, which didn’t bode well for me. Or Rowan. Then there was Mairi, waiting outside the door with scarcely concealed glee on her features.
Dread clawed at my stomach from the inside, but I kept my features calm.
“You sent for me, Father?”
“I was under the impression you wanted to keep the girl for yourself.” His tone was low. Deadly.
“I do,” I said shortly.
I debated telling him that I had to go for the sake of looking accommodating, but my father tended toward a show of strength and obstinance. If I told him Iiro was making it an issue amongst the clans, he might retaliate, which would be a disaster for everyone.
But if I admitted I was actually trying to get rid of her, he could still take her for himself. He might just kill her with his bare hands before he let Elk have her.
“And yet you were willing to trade her away?”
I affected a casual air, raising my eyebrows in a knowing way. “As much as I’ve enjoyed the…benefits of having a pet, she’s hardly worth a war.”
He scoffed. “Let them come. The Bastard King will come for his daughter himself. We will slaughter them at the pass.”
I refrained from reminding him how things had turned out last time we thought we had the upper hand with Lochlann, seeing as his brother was a casualty he would not enjoy being used as an object lesson. More than that, he was probably right. This was a fight on our land, and they would have to squeeze through a mountain pass just to get here.
We probably would slaughter them initially. But what then? We couldn’t conquer Lochlann on their home territory when the clans would never agree, and we would destroy any hope we had of trade in the future. The food stores were dwindling while Lochlann’s overflowed, but that was another thing my father refused to consider.
Though Iiro had probably already damned us all on that front.
My best course of action now was to agree and find a way out of this down the line.
“Very well. I’ll keep my pet,” I said, as though he had talked me into it. “And when the time comes, I’ll prepare the men for war.”
He narrowed his eyes. “There is a village in the north that needs your attention. Several families have been caught aiding the Besklanovvy . You will need to make an example of them so the surrounding villages do not follow suit.”
His message was clear: Take care of your duties, and take the girl as your reward.
My father might have struggled to recognize the people around him, to remember what year it was or who was on the throne, but he was still brilliant, at his core. Brilliant and ruthless and far too observant.
Somewhere deep down, he knew that I hated going to the villages to root out his fake traitors, just as he knew that I wasn’t being up front about my motives for wanting to keep the princess.
So he would assert his dominance while he let me keep my prize. In his infinite magnanimity, he was letting me choose whether to give him Rowan now or burn down an innocent village. It was a deal and a test, all in one, something I had no choice but to fail.
If I gave him Rowan, far more of my people would die in the long run. It was a simple equation, one that did not account for the way my heartbeat faltered at the image of pale green eyes staring lifelessly from a graying face.
I held his gaze, ignoring the eerie sensation that it was like looking in a mirror from the future. How many more villages would have to burn before my eyes were as empty as his were now?
Perhaps, they already were.
I weighed my options like I hadn’t already made my choice, keeping my shoulders square and my chin high. He would latch onto the first sign of weakness, and I would lose in both directions.
The only way forward was to play his games.
So I nodded once, a single, decisive dip of my chin, and spoke in the blandest tone I could muster.
“I’ll leave at first light.”
Perhaps Rowan could ask her question again when I returned.
Murder any children lately?
This time, I could answer her outright: Absolutely, Princess. Just this very week, to save the rest of my clan.
To save you.
All so you can hate me more.