Chapter 29 #3
Astrid flings me away from her and turns back the way we’ve come. I wait until the echo of her footsteps up the stairs has disappeared. At this point, I’ve lost Morgan. There’s no way for me to make any headway through the maze and my last sight of her isn’t enough to give me a direction.
You’re wondering if Astrid is right, Mozi adds.
Of course I am. She’s never failed me before. She’s the one person I can count on without question. And because I am a fool, I turn tail and retrace my steps as well.
I only hope you know what you’re doing, too.
I’m sick of everyone questioning me, mostly because I’m not entirely sold on my choices myself. My muscles stiffen on my way back to the entrance panel.
The sight of the familiar hallway in the main portion of the castle fills me with relief the second I step free. The claustrophobic and musty maid’s corridors would drive anyone out of their mind.
Can I blame Morgan for being a little unhinged? Or a lot unhinged.
I duck my head, carefully considering my next move. She’s a young woman who’s lived in constant upheaval and upset since her village was torched. War is a brutal business and my father murdered her family.
She had her future ripped away and her movements crippled since I brought her here. It might have satisfied my ego to think she’d play along but reality is very different from conjecture.
At least I still have a chance to convince her to join me. Still…
The future feels incredibly dim. How long have I been lost in my thoughts with too little sleep and a disturbing fascination for a redheaded warrior who wants nothing to do with me?
What role am I really supposed to play in this game? Harbi’s pawn? My father’s weapon? Or something else entirely?
“Dragon’s teeth, Kieran, have you been tussling with a dust mop? You’re covered in cobwebs.” Tristan’s voice curdles my blood.
In response, I sneer at him. “I’m not the one skulking around in corridors.”
Tristan pushes away from the wall with an innocent shrug and a simpering smile, one I’ve seen on his face quite regularly.
He clamps a hand on my shoulder and his fingers bite hard enough to get me to cry out. He’s used the tactic on people before to bring them to the ground when their knees buckle.
“I was searching you out, cousin,” Tristan says with sincerity. “I thought you should be the first to know that General Ryson is planning on setting siege to Northshore.”
I say nothing.
Without warning, Tristan smiles and to my credit, I don’t falter.
“You look unsurprised.”
I’m tired. Too tired to allow this conversation to go on for much longer. Tristan will burrow under my skin the way he always does and rattle me to the point where I let something slip.
For half a heartbeat, I marvel at the differences in my cousin. We’d been boys together but he’d grown into the type of man who felt comfortable murdering innocent people because his uncle gave him the go ahead. What kind of person would he have become if things were different?
We’re close enough in looks and attitude for us to have been closer than any true siblings.
As it is, I’m in for a brutal death at his hands if he catches a whiff of my plans.
“Why Northshore?” I ask.
“There’s been rumors that a resistance is banding together in an attempt to overthrow the King. We’re merely investigating.”
“With an entire contingent? Surely that’s not necessary.” My eyes widen.
Tristan meets them with the sharp edge of his anger deepening the shade of blue we both share. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to anything violent but you never know. Anyone who is serious enough about their endeavor won’t hesitate to attack us even when we talk about peace.”
Peace is a joke coming from Tristan, or my father.
My lips thin into a stern line. “When do we leave?”
“It could take weeks to rally the troops but we’re hoping to leave within a few days. You’ll be staying here, of course.”
“Of course,” I repeat, sounding tired even to me.
Tristan’s gaze flashes in an outward sign of his frustration, he’d hoped to gloat. That’s what this is about. He’d sought me out for the simple pleasure of reminding me of how much more important he is.
“Listen, we’ll have to discuss this later.” I go for calm, rational, when my insides quiver uncertainly. “Right now, I’m busy.”
I almost smile.
“Sure. There’s a lot for us to discuss later. Isn’t there, Kieran?” Tristan takes a measured step toward me. “It’s a shame we never talk anymore.”
My leathers constrict suddenly like they’re trying to choke me. Nerves. The eerie way Tristan watches me like he’s peeling apart every layer I’ve put in place to hide my real intentions.
I drag a hand down my face.
“A real shame,” I echo.
It’s not wise to alienate Tristan but to willingly insert myself in a conversation with him—
Inspiration hits in a flash. I know where Morgan is.
With Tristan watching my back, I turn and take off toward one of the classrooms now emptied for dinner. Is the girl predictable? Or am I getting better at reading her?
Either way, a lightness steals over my dark thoughts.