Chapter 6
D ay one of the official proceedings was an even more unmitigated disaster than I had expected.
In spite of what I had told her yesterday, it appeared that there were, in fact, those dumb enough to suggest killing the daughter of the notoriously brutal king to the east.
Only a lifetime of keeping my emotions in check kept me from raising my voice now, especially when Mikhail accused me of being too soft.
This wasn’t about mercy or softness. If it had suited my clan’s needs, I would have put the princess’s head on the chopping block myself, but as it stood, her death would put every one of us in danger.
Not to mention the things we could leverage with her life.
There were resources our people desperately needed; we could re-open trade routes, acquire food for our starving villagers - but all these men could see was retribution for a war that had occurred before she had even been born.
The tent devolved into chaos, with several of the dukes transitioning into their clan dialects as the princess stared on, confusion slipping through her haughty gaze. She watched as the dukes of Eagle, Wolf and Crane all argued back and forth about what to do with her, and what vile way they could use her to send a message back to her father.
Her gaze darted to Korhonan in question, but he predictably kept his mouth shut, content to let her sit in ignorance of the brutal reality in which she found herself.
Perhaps if she knew how serious the situation was, she would have enough sense to survive this mess. That was what I told myself as I leaned forward, giving her a basic translation of what the dukes were saying.
Her eyes went wide as I spoke of the clans sending her limbs back piece by piece to her family, or just sending a vial of her ashes, but she reined her emotions in, quickly donning an expression of forced amusement before responding.
“Surely, that first option would get rather expensive, what with all the costs associated with that many messengers,” her words were quiet, as if she spoke them just for me. “Not to mention time-consuming. And honestly, who’s going to volunteer to travel six weeks or more with a rapidly decaying limb?”
That was…unexpected.
“And the ashes, well, those could belong to anyone or anything,” she continued after a moment. “Honestly, I expected more from a nation of barbarians. Do feel free to tell me if something more interesting comes up, though.”
Barbarians? Those were big words coming from the daughter of the man who had almost single-handedly stopped our armies and… Even as the thought crossed my mind, images of a village on fire and the cries of women and children flooded my head.
I couldn’t very well argue with her accusation.
Not when the events of the past week were so fresh in my mind.
Biting back any response I might have had for her, I kept silent and studied her instead. The proud set to her jaw, her narrowed eyes as she studiously sized up the rest of the table, doing her best to avoid glancing back in my direction.
A small amount of respect begrudgingly began to form for her, even if she did appear to have more bravery than sense.
By the time we were all gathered together for the evening's festivities, the princess had somehow managed to forget that the majority of the people around her had just been clamoring for her death.
She even found it in herself to smile and laugh with Arès’s daughter, as if she were in no more danger than any other noble in attendance.
“I see you have taken an interest in my prisoner,” Iiro said quietly, interrupting my thoughts.
My skin crawled with the proximity, but I didn’t let him see that. Instead, I met his imperious gaze with a twin expression.
“Wasn’t that the point of bringing her here? To capture the attention of the dukes?” I asked smoothly.
The corner of Iiro’s mouth twitched. “You’re not a duke, though, are you? Tell me, why did your father decide to remain in Bear again? How long has it been now since he’s been seen in public?”
My fingers twitched around the glass of my medovukha, and I breathed slowly out through my nose. The last thing I needed was for Iiro to latch on to a rumor about any weakness in my clan.
“What’s the matter, Iiro?” I asked coolly, before taking a sip from my glass. “Don’t tell me that you’re feeling inferior that this little farce wasn’t enough to merit my father’s presence.”
The duke narrowed his eyes and let out a low chuckle. Tension emanated from his stiff posture as he turned to face me. He let out a sharp breath, like he was bracing himself to respond, but before he could say another word, his wife approached.
“Lord Evander,” she greeted me sedately.
I didn’t miss the way she gently placed a hand on her husband’s arm, or how some of the anger seemed to bleed from Iiro’s expression at the gesture.
“Lady Inessa,” I returned with a dip of my chin.
Her husband suppressed a grimace at the interruption, but ever the politician, he offered her up for the next dance. Which, I suspected, had been the purpose of her interruption, a way to break up an escalating situation.
I hadn’t had many dealings with Lady Inessa through the years, but especially not since everything happened. As if on cue, a muscle spasmed in my back, tugging at the thick scar tissue.
Her eyes narrowed at whatever expression crossed my features in response, but I quickly changed the subject to talk about the weather. She responded politely, offering plenty of small talk in return, and while her words were directed toward me, her attention was fixed solidly on the princess.
Her expression gave little away, but each time one of the dukes approached the Lochlannian, her entire body tensed.
“It was good of you to take her under your wing,” I commented, sweeping her a little closer to the center of the floor and farther from her husband's scrutiny.
Inessa’s gaze sharply met mine.
“I can only imagine the burden it must be to suffer her company and risk her reputation marring yours,” I added, noting the way her eyes narrowed in response.
I had hit a nerve.
She swallowed, offering me a demure smile that didn’t meet her eyes.
“While the princess can be rather…” she trailed off, searching for a word. “Lively, I assure you she is more than a mere burden.”
More like a chronic pain in the arse?
Or did it go beyond that? Had the impetuous princess managed to win over the indomitable Lady of Elk?
“I see,” I said after a moment. “It would seem I misunderstood the situation.”
She dipped her chin once, not bothering to speak any more until the dance was finished. After thanking me for the dance, she returned to her husband near the refreshment table, while I set off to find a new partner.
Feral as she was, I knew if I wanted to know anything about the princess, I would need to go to her myself.
As I approached, her bright green eyes darted from Mila over to where Korhonan was dancing with Galina. Her lips parted, her features becoming downcast as she repeated Mila’s words back to her. “Marriage talks?”
Clearing my throat, I extended my hand, breaking off the conversation before she could make a fool of herself by mourning someone as dreadfully boring as Theodore Korhonan and whatever relationship he had let her believe they shared.
“Would you do me the honor of this dance, Princess?”
Her expression shuttered, and she began to protest when Iiro interrupted her with a not-so-subtle threat about her need to be amicable and accommodating .
I attempted not to scoff. He would be hard pressed to find any two words that described her less…
Though she wasn’t happy about it, she accepted my offer to dance, angrily muttering retorts to Mila the entire time.
“You seem especially cantankerous today,” I remarked with a quirk of my brow as we moved into position with the other dancers.
She glared at me briefly, her steps falling in line with my own, turning under the barest pressure of my fingertips as I led her through the dance.
“Whereas most people in a farce of a trial for their lives would be celebrating?” Her caustic tone only proved my point all the more so.
She scowled, turning away, her eyes landing on Korhonan and Mikhail’s niece dancing a few couples over from us.
“Yes, it certainly seems to be the Summit that is the problem. Has the congenial Lord Theodore actually managed to upset someone?” I asked, drawing her attention back to me.
She examined my expression, her eyes moving from mine, up to my hair before focusing on my lips. Whatever she saw in her examination of me had left her dissatisfied, because a scowl crossed her mouth before she could hide it once more.
“Do you think Lord Theodore is soft because he doesn’t venture into villages to wantonly murder his own people?” Her tone was icy.
So, she had heard of my reputation. Of course she had.
What was one more person who despised me, anyway? Why should her opinion of me matter?
“Order must be maintained, and sometimes that means making a difficult judgment call. Don’t worry, Princess, no one here expects you to understand that.” I kept my voice free of emotion as I responded, which only seemed to infuriate her more.
“And why not?” She asked through gritted teeth, stumbling ever so slightly over the next few steps.
“Because you’re a woman.” I shrugged, forcing a nonchalance into my tone that I didn’t feel. “And because you’ve lived a life of unimaginable privilege. Hell, you were so bored, you had to go and invent drama for yourself by running along on your smuggling adventure.”
I laughed darkly, wondering at the kind of existence that would lead to whatever sense of invincibility she seemed to feel, even here, surrounded by her enemies, dancing with a man she believed slaughtered his own villagers for fun.
“And, even here, you don’t seem to have the sense to be afraid,” I went on. “What would you know of responsibility?”
Emotions flitted through her jade eyes so rapidly I could barely keep up with them. Defiance and anger and caution, and just the smallest hint of guilt. Finally, the anger won out, enough that she stopped entirely in her tracks.
“Well, I apologize, Lord Evander, if I have not adequately cowered for your entertainment, but I do believe I feel my knees weakening with terror at this very moment. Do excuse me.”
Without another word, she dropped my hand and stormed away from the dance floor.