Chapter 71
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
T he next day was spent readying ourselves for the journey to the Obsidian Palace. After overseeing the packing, where my wife insisted on making room for the ominous box from her Lochlannian weapons-master, I responded to several missives from the lords and handled the finer business of unclanning Vasily.
Between reallocating his lands to other lords, sending someone to oversee the removal of his family from their property, removing his name from family records, and adding him to the long list of Besklanovvy , a headache began to form in my temples.
Fortunately, I had a weeks-long carriage ride through Unclanned territory, broken up by nights spent covering for my father’s madness in the homes of our most prominent lords to look forward to as a reprieve.
And, of course, the arseling-extraordinaire king, himself.
When each day of our journey passed without incident, my suspicion began to grow.
Not only was my stepmother markedly more amenable at the dinners we were forced to sit through by our gracious hosts, but she was oddly silent as well.
I thought back to the rare display of emotion I saw on her face the day of Vasily’s sentencing. If she were anyone else, I might have suspected her hands were too full with my father to keep her from scheming, but that had never stopped her before when it came to Rowan.
Her hatred for my wife had likely only grown since she returned to Socair. And since we were in separate carriages, I hadn’t imagined it would stop her from making her usual attempts on my wife’s life, using her promises and threats to bend the Besklanovvy to her will.
But each band we passed remained just as distant as the last. An ominous feeling took root in my gut, gradually spreading through my veins like an infection. There was just something I couldn’t shake, no matter how many times I went over the possibilities in my mind.
“She has to be up to something,” I said under my breath as we passed yet another band who made no move to strike.
There was no way she would relinquish whatever hold she had over them—not yet, and not so easily. She was just waiting, then. But for what?
Rowan squirmed in her seat, her fists clenching in her full skirts as she stared out the window of our carriage.
“Do you think she’s given up on the Unclanned doing her bidding?” she asked, following my thoughts perfectly. “Or is she just biding her time?”
It was a good question. One I wasn’t sure I had an answer to. For all that I prided myself on being able to think through each of my enemies’ possible actions like moves on a chessboard, I hadn’t yet been able to determine what Ava was planning. And yet, whatever it was would surely pale in comparison to whatever Iiro had planned for us.
“She isn’t bold enough to make a move herself, so I wouldn’t count the Unclanned out yet,” I said simply. “Regardless, we need to be on our guard at the palace. Ava is hardly our biggest concern at the moment.”
Rowan sighed, leaning into my arm.
“What are we going to do about Iiro?” she asked. “And these taxes?”
Those two questions had kept me up for countless hours since returning to Socair.
“Arès and I are working on the problem in general,” I said, considering our last couple of letters. Neither of us wanted any part in whatever Iiro had planned, especially if that meant fighting on opposite sides of a war.
“But as far as right now goes…” I continued, exhaustion washing over me in a tidal wave. I ran a hand through my hair before resting my head against the bench behind me. “Honestly, Lemmikki… I don’t know yet.”
Rowan shifted slightly in her seat. She hesitated for a moment, and I felt the weight of her gaze studying me before she leaned closer. Warm breath skated across my neck and jawline.
“How long did you say until we stop again?” she asked against my skin, trailing her lips to the bottom of my ear.
“At least a few—hours.” I said, the words hitching in my throat as she playfully nipped at my skin.
I knew she was doing it as a distraction, using my own rather successful methods against me, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop her. Not when she was a diversion I constantly craved, the air I was so desperate to breathe every second of every day.
“Well,” she whispered in a tone that had every last one of my senses on alert and ready, “I suppose that will have to do.”
She reached across me to draw the curtains on the carriage window before situating herself between my legs.
I swallowed hard, my gaze raking over her, from her wild crimson curls to the cloak she was shedding with her deft fingers.
“Lemmikki,” I began, unsure how I had been about to follow that up as she pressed her finger to her lips.
As much as there was a part of me that wanted to remain alert to the dangers around us, I also knew I could trust my men to warn us if things shifted. At least, that’s what I told myself as the warmth of my wife’s mouth caressed my skin, chasing away every coherent thought and concern I’d had only moments ago.
It was strange how quickly things had changed with our allies at Wolf. Of course, things between our clans had been strained after the Summit, even more so since the news of my alliance in Lochlann, but after the wedding in Bear, I thought I had regained some of the ground lost with Nils.
Now, though, I wasn’t so sure.
Nils and his family went through the motions of hosting us, but tension rippled through the dining room, echoing through every stilted movement and awkward pleasantry.
The silences between conversations were somehow louder than the scraping sound of our spoons against the ceramic soup bowls.
Though, I was willing to accept that it was our impending visit to the Obsidian Palace that had everyone on edge.
For her part, my lemmikki did an admirable job of playing her role. She was gracious, her pronunciation of Socairan terms as fluent as her manners, despite the small slights of both the duke and his wife, who were just as content to pretend she didn’t exist.
Which was at least better than the alternative.
It was a relief, too, that my father had been able to keep a tight rein on his sanity for the evening. Despite a few moments of confusion that could be chalked up to his age and the exhaustion that came with traveling, there were no major incidents.
When it came time to retire for the evening, we were more than ready to dismiss ourselves to our rooms. But there was still unfinished business with my longest standing ally, so when he made the customary offer of vodka and cigars after dessert—one that was more polite to refuse than accept due to the lateness of the hour—I waited for everyone else to decline before accepting.
Nils sighed, the exasperation in his weathered expression slightly more pronounced than usual.
“Do you not need to see to your new wife?” he asked once we were alone in the parlor. It was the first time he’d actually acknowledged her presence since our arrival.
I shook my head, offering a flippant gesture in the direction of our room.
“She will be fine long enough for me to catch up with an old friend,” I said, making my way to the liquor cart.
Once we left the safety of Wolf Estate, I would need to worry about Rowan’s safety once again. But Nils was a man of his word, and despite his feelings on the subject, I knew he would protect my wife as surely as I would protect his.
After pouring us both a glass of vodka, I made my way over to the seating area next to the window.
It was an overly formal custom for the guest to serve the host in our kingdom, but one I had hoped would show the respect I intended to give him, the honor I placed on our alliance.
“Besides,” I continued, handing him one of the small crystal glasses engraved with the head of a wolf, “I thought we should speak as friends, if not allies, before heading into the unknown tomorrow.”
Nils let out a short harrumph , accepting the glass before pointedly glancing at the clock on the wall. “If there is a point you wish to make, do so now. The hour is late, and I am old.”
Indeed.
I raised my glass, careful not to let any of my frustration show in my features.
“ Nostrovia ,” I said, making one final attempt at a gesture of goodwill by thanking him for the liquor before drinking it down.
He muttered something incoherent beneath his breath before doing the same. His gaze shifted to the family portrait on the wall—one that was older than me—of the duke and his wife and their son when he was a boy.
“I am concerned that things between our clans are not at peace,” I said, refilling our glasses.
His gaze cut back to mine, his graying brow arching in question. “You certainly did not seem concerned when you made a decision for your clan that directly insulted mine.”
There was no bite to his words, only something resembling exhaustion.
I glanced up at the portrait before recalling his words after the wedding. He hated the King of Lochlann for not having the decency to kill our men on the battlefield, but more than that, he was still a grieving father.
We drank again, and this time, instead of refilling our glasses, I set the bottle between us on the small table.
Sitting forward, I took a moment to reconsider our last conversation in light of that fact. Not only had Nils always been loyal, both to me and my father, but he had always been one of the more judicious dukes.
And when I began to take over duties as my father’s heir, he had been at the very least…indifferent with me, which was more than I could say about some of the other clan leaders.
“My intention was never to add insult to injury,” I finally said. “But you must know, as I do now, that Iiro has been stacking the odds far longer than we knew we were playing the game.”
He let out a scoff but dipped his chin to acknowledge my point.
I continued, reaffirming my point from our last conversation.
“In a sea of difficult choices, I made the one that I thought best for Bear and her allies. And if it was Elk’s intention all along to take the Obsidian Throne, at least we control the pass and whatever remains of the goods coming in after his taxes. ”
He took his time, processing my words before silently refilling our glasses.
After a stiff silence, he nodded again, raising his glass in salute before downing its contents.
“We are surrounded, as you said, by a sea of difficult choices. I can see why you and your father made the move to thwart Iiro’s plans, but that does not mean I accept the alliance with Lochlann,” he said with a sigh.
I wasn’t sure where that left us, exactly. But I was glad, at least, that his anger had abated enough to understand the political aspect of it all, even if I was keeping my personal reasons out of the conversation entirely.
Nils didn’t need to know that I would have done anything to keep Rowan. Or that my duke had not, in fact, sent me to Lochlann to secure said alliance. At least, for the sake of this alliance, I could use my father as the scapegoat.
After everything I had been forced to do in the name of his insanity, it was the least he could do for me, for the future of our clan and the security of our alliance with Wolf.
“Understood,” I replied evenly.
I downed the vodka in my glass before resting it on the table between us.
“As you said, the hour is late,” I added a moment later, ready to take my leave.
Nils shook his head. “True enough, but as you have already kept me awake longer than I prefer, you owe me at least one cigar and a round of billiards.”
A wry grin tugged at the corner of my mouth before I agreed, knowing that he prized his cigars over his blood relatives.
It was the closest thing I would get to a reminder of his loyalty—something I hadn’t been willing to insult him by outright asking for, but that I appreciated all the same.
With the tides constantly shifting throughout Socair, it was a relief to know I could depend on this, at least. Iiro had one less sword at his disposal in whatever battle we had ahead of us.