Chapter 109
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED NINE
I racked my brain for what could have made Korhonan risk coming here so soon after my soldiers had fought a battle against his.
While we waited for Taras to sneak him through the castle into our study, Rowan and I discussed the possibility of whether or not he’d heard what we were doing with the Unclanned.
“Unless Iiro has spies within the Unclanned, that wouldn’t be possible…” I began, before my thoughts turned to the only person I despised more than the would-be king.
Ava.
Hadn’t she used them as her own personal band of mercenaries? Her very own network of spies?
The look on my wife’s face told me her thoughts had taken a similar turn.
“No,” I answered aloud. “No, Iiro is too prideful and clings to the old ways. He would never lower himself in that manner.” I could never picture a situation that would lead the pretend-king to lower himself to seek out help from the Besklanovvy .
She sighed, nodding in relief just as the door to the study swung open.
Taras stood back to make room for a massive figure shrouded beneath a hooded cloak. My cousin eyed me carefully, a silent question brimming in his gaze.
Do you want me to stay?
I gave him a small shake of my head, and he pulled the door shut, remaining in the hall. He knew I would fill him in on whatever news Korhonan had to share later.
Rowan brought us each a glass of vodka, and I couldn’t help but be amused by his refusal to accept it.
“At the risk of giving offense, My Lady,” he said, keeping his hands firmly at his sides, “I’m not sure I’ll be drinking anything you pour any time soon.”
She arched a single eyebrow, her lips pursing in amusement. “Technically, I didn’t pour anything last time.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at that, once again wildly entertained at the imagery of my tiny wife drugging the colossal duke.
His expression, however, made it clear that he did not share the same fondness for that memory.
Maybe that was why I decided to throw him a bone by wounding my pride right alongside his. Or maybe it was because he had put himself at great risk to help me then, and likely again in coming here.
“If it makes you feel any better, she slapped me in front of my entire squadron,” I said, taking another sip from my glass.
His eyes widened in shock that quickly turned to horror as he stared at my wife in question.
She simply shrugged.
“Let’s not pretend you didn’t both deserve what you got and more,” she replied before turning her attention back to Korhonan. “But if it helps…”
She trailed off, taking a sizable swig from his glass before encouraging him to take it once again. He did take the glass but still refused to drink it. She must have truly traumatized him.
I chuckled again as we moved to the seating area by the hearth, willing to take my amusement where I could get it since I was fairly certain whatever news he had brought was far from humorous.
“What brings you here?” I asked outright when we were comfortable.
My wife’s Lochlannian habits must have been wearing off on me.
“We needed to speak, in person,” he said flatly, leveling me with a look.
I nodded for him to continue, noting the lines of exhaustion in his features. He may not have joined his men in the battle here, but the effects of war had still reached him down in Elk. Between his hollowed-out eyes and the gaunt lines of his face, he looked nearly as haunted as my soldiers had in the days after the battle.
Taking a breath, he sat forward, his hand still clenched around his vodka glass.
“Things cannot continue as they are,” he said simply.
I arched an eyebrow in question. They certainly could not, but I sure as storms wasn’t about to cave to his tyrant brother.
“If you’re here to tell me to bend the knee?—”
“That is not why I’m here,” he interrupted me quickly, his jaw clenching. “I’m here because I know you are planning something, and I want in.”
I kept my expression impassive, not allowing any of my thoughts to play out on my features.
It was one thing for Korhonan to openly disagree with his brother back at the Obsidian Palace, another to subvert his efforts to kill my wife, but this…
Was he truly offering to go to war against his own flesh and blood?
I recalled everything I knew about the man in front of me, and the unyielding loyalty he had always shown his older brother—a man who was more like his father than a true sibling.
Hadn’t that loyalty been why he betrayed me to him when we were younger? How far Iiro must have fallen in his esteem if his offer now was a genuine one. Korhonan had many faults, but for a Socairan, he was nearly as transparent as my wife.
He couldn’t have faked that hollowed-out look if he had wanted to, and he was a mediocre liar. That was why he hadn’t tried to pull what Inessa had in the Obsidian Palace, despite his desire to protect Rowan.
This level of deception was beyond him, even if it hadn’t gone against everything I knew of his black-and-white morality.
“I will never be able to convince my men to fight against their allies, nor their former duke, now king,” he continued after a moment.
I met his gaze, not missing the signs of defeat that lingered there.
“You didn’t come all this way just to say that,” I said, and he gave a small shake of his head.
“No, I didn’t. I can’t convince them to fight on your side...” he said, a muscle working in his jaw. “But they will stand down if I order it. They were not happy, being led into a slaughter.”
Of course not, but would they have minded as much if they had been victorious? Or did they actually understand that this war was as pointless as the blood we had all been guilty of spilling?
Regardless, if he was telling the truth, this could be the answer to our problem of how to get into the palace. We had our armies, but without a way past the gates, we would be sacrificing them in droves.
This could change everything.
“However, I have two conditions,” he interrupted my thoughts.
Wariness crept in with the small bit of optimism I’d allowed to slip in, but I waited to hear him out.
“I want you to spare Inessa,” he said first.
That was easy enough. She had saved our lives, something Rowan had speculated was in repayment for when Rowan had once saved hers. If she was satisfying a life debt, we couldn’t expect more of her help, but I wouldn’t have needlessly executed a woman who had shown my wife kindness in any event.
“Of course,” Rowan responded earnestly, in time with my nod. “You have to know we would never intentionally hurt her when she’s been innocent in all of this.”
Korhonan nodded once, unsurprised but still cautious. Which meant his second condition was the one he was concerned about.
He turned his resolute hazel gaze on me, and I had the sinking feeling I knew what he was going to say before he even asked.
“And I want you to spare my brother.”
Of course he did. I tried to dispassionately consider the implications of keeping the svoloch alive after everything he had done, weighing them against Korhonan’s offer to help us remove him from power.
But when I blinked, I saw Ava standing over me with a whip. I saw contorted bodies and my wife’s dagger protruding from my father’s chest and a rivulet of blood running from the slice on her neck—all because of Iiro’s schemes.
My courtyard had been soaked in blood. Good men were slaughtered. Then there were my wife’s tears, soaking the bed from the destruction his threats had wrought. I might have left her in that inn, but none of it would have been necessary if it weren’t for his storms-blasted vendetta against her.
I inhaled slowly, counting as I let the breath out.
Yes, I wanted him dead. Slowly, after he had lost everything.
But more than that, didn’t I want him defeated, along with the danger he posed to my lemmikki?
For a man as proud as Iiro, failure at my hands—at the hands of my wife—would be a fate worse than death.
Korhonan had only requested his life, not his freedom. And locking Iiro in a cage did satisfy a small amount of my bloodlust. It wasn’t enough, but it was preferable to the alternative of letting him keep a position of power from which he could threaten my people and my wife in the future.
Rowan did not share my sentiments, if her dropped jaw was anything to go by.
“You want us to spare Iiro after all of the people who died because of him?” She demanded, gripping her glass a little tighter as fury emanated from her tiny form in waves.
Korhonan sighed, sharply glancing from me back to her. “I’m quite certain there is no one in this room who doesn’t have blood on their hands.”
Rowan tilted her chin, guilt flushing her cheeks.
“Perhaps not,” she allowed. “But there is also no one in this room who has started a war lately.”
“Though I seem to recall your actions coming perilously close,” he replied, unwilling to back down.
“Because of a situation the brother you so desperately want to live put us in,” Rowan fired back, her temper mounting with each word.
I placed a hand on hers before she went for her dagger. As much as I wanted to take her side, the practical implications of Korhonan’s help were too tempting to pass up.
And there was a small part of me that saw his point. Rowan might not be swimming in the blood of innocents, but the same could not be said of me. Iiro was a despicable person, one whose level I would not stoop to on my worst day.
But, intentionally or otherwise, we had all played a hand in this war. What mattered now was ending it.
“You’re suggesting imprisonment of some sort?” I clarified, and he nodded.
“At Elk Estate.”
Rowan scoffed. “Where he can regroup and do this all over again in a couple of years?”
A fair question. But the Duke of Elk let out an irritable breath as he rapidly lost his patience, his rose-colored glasses obviously dimming a little where it came to his view of my wife.
I wondered how he had imagined he would spend the rest of his life with her exceptional obstinance if he could barely manage this conversation, but in fairness to him, she had at least made an attempt at being agreeable in his midst. And he was notoriously a bit gullible.
“No,” he told her flatly. “Where I can ensure that he is sequestered and unable to act again. Besides, it took him years to garner support for this, and once he is dethroned, he will not be able to again. He will see that.”
I had every doubt that he would see that. On the other hand, I had no intentions of giving him the opportunity to plot. There were plenty of measures we could discuss after the war was won, even if he was imprisoned on Elk territory.
“You have not historically been the best person to recognize when Iiro is scheming,” my lemmikki said after a moment. Her tone was quieter, but no less firm.
She drank down the rest of her vodka before refilling all of our glasses, even topping off Korhonan, though he still hadn’t braved taking a drink.
He gripped the cup, running his fingers along the grooves of the crystal. Defeat settled further into his shoulders, and when he met my wife’s gaze once again, I almost felt…pity for him.
“Rest assured, Rowan, the days when I was able to harbor any illusions about who my brother is or the things he would do are far behind me.”
She let out a soft sigh, the fight in her dissipating at his admission.
I glanced between them, then at the clock, noting the hour. Korhonan had undoubtedly had a difficult journey getting here, and it was getting late.
“I assume you’re staying at least until the morning?” I asked, and he gave a resolute dip of his chin.
“Then we can discuss this over dinner,” I said, standing and gesturing for them to join me.
“We can, though, you should know these are not terms I will negotiate on.”
My wife let out a small, irritable sigh, but didn’t argue. And neither did I. Not because I didn’t think he was being short-sighted, but because we all had lines we weren’t willing to cross, people we were bound to by blood. He was already going against everything he had ever believed in by coming here to offer his support.
And as much as I wanted Iiro to pay for his crimes, I didn’t want my own personal vengeance more than I wanted an end to the bloodshed.
So I met Korhonan’s gaze and gave a single dip of my chin.
“Understood.”