Chapter 111
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED ELEVEN
I n the two weeks since Rowan had left before me to sneak through the enemy’s territory with her men, I had wished more than once that I could return to the moment I had proposed the plan and choose silence instead.
But this was our best chance at winning, and I did trust her, even if I hated the necessity of being away from her.
Even if I wondered whether that last night we spent together would be the last time I ever held her in my arms.
There was no time to dwell on that now, though, surrounded by enemies as I pulled up to the Obsidian Palace.
I had less than three seconds to climb down from the carriage before the grating sound of Nils’s voice reached my ears. He didn’t bother with a greeting or false niceties.
Instead, he took the opportunity to vocalize his fury at my presence here, which wouldn’t have bothered me on its own. It was hardly equal to the hundreds of deaths I could pile at his feet.
But then he strung together the words Lochlannian and whore , belittling the woman who had quite literally blasted through his army and decimated his soldiers.
Insulting my wife.
Degrading her in front of a room full of dukes.
Red lined my vision, and I slowly turned to face him, ready to tear his traitorous head from his shoulders, when a different face appeared in my line of vision instead.
“Sir Arès,” I growled through a smile that was more a baring of my teeth.
“Sir Evander,” he returned with a dip of his head, just barely concealing the ire in his own eyes when he glanced at the sparkling black edifice before us.
He had lost men, too. Not to mention that Iiro had attacked the estate that housed his unborn grandchild.
“I thought we might head in together,” he said pointedly.
I arched an eyebrow, my eyes drifting toward the door where Nils had already retreated.
“If only to keep you from spilling blood on the palace steps,” Arès offered a second later, more quietly, “Iiro will set you up to fail at every turn. He wants a reason to execute you in front of everyone. Do not give him one. Not yet, at least.”
His lips tilted up just the smallest bit at the inherent threat in those last few words. Then he clapped me casually on the back, mask fully in place, and I was forced to acknowledge that he was right.
I turned to give a few subtle orders to Kirill and Yuriy, making sure that they were on their guard and ready for the signal. With synchronous nods, they assured me they would be.
Taras had stayed behind at Bear, providing a last bastion of defense for the estate…and a suitable replacement for the duke if we failed today. Or if I did.
Then we watched as Iiro’s new soldiers, all dressed in the deep purple of the Socairan monarchy, unloaded the food my people needed and carried it into the palace larders.
We had been forced to bring it along, since Iiro wouldn’t entertain me for long if he didn’t think he had won.
Arès made a sound of disgust as he watched the soldiers unload the food. We both knew that this tax wouldn’t benefit the people of Socair. Instead, it would allow Iiro to live the life of excess and luxury that he craved.
That was just one of the many reasons why his rule could not continue.
When I finally couldn’t stand it anymore, we followed the sound of music into the palace doors where we would feast and drink with the pseudo-king as if he hadn’t brought war to my doorstep before forcing me to spend the evening with my traitorous former ally.
“Do we have a time?” Arès asked quietly as we entered the Great Hall.
A servant walked past, offering us glasses of medovukha. I took mine, drinking down a healthy gulp before responding.
“Tomorrow morning,” I murmured.
Arès took a drink, making a thoughtful sound in acknowledgment.
What he didn’t understand about the plan was the fact that we were relying, in very large part, on the morning fog and Rowan’s ability to use it to her advantage.
Assuming she was still alive and unharmed.
I reminded myself that she was safe with her men. Andrei was a loyal captain. From the small amount of time I had spent around him and the others, I knew they would protect her.
Besides, if they had been found out, Iiro surely would have thrown that in my face already. As if the bastard could hear my thoughts, his eyes met mine from across the room and he raised a glass in toast.
Aalio.
He tilted his head curiously before making his way forward.
“ Der’mo ,” I muttered mostly to myself before Arès echoed the sentiment.
“Sir Stenvall, Sir Kostya,” Iiro greeted as if he were a casual acquaintance, rather than the man who brought a bloody battle to my doorstep and cost my clan countless lives.
I dipped my head in response, giving him every inch of my resting aalio face .
“I had expected your wife to be here with you.” He made a show of glancing around the room.
“She had other things to take care of,” I offered without an apology, and Iiro’s eyes narrowed.
Whether it was in suspicion or in offense, I couldn’t be sure.
“Well, do send her our regards,” he said flatly. “I am certain that next time, she won’t miss it.”
He left on that threatening note, while I comforted myself with the reminder that there wouldn’t be a next time after tomorrow, though perhaps she would enjoy visiting him in his cell.
She did enjoy a petty victory every now and then.
I took another long swig of medovukha, gripping the chalice so tightly that my knuckles whitened.
All that was left to do was play the game and bide our time until Rowan’s signal. That, and keep my word to Korhonan by not killing his brother the way I so, so desperately wanted to.
“Sometimes I wish I hadn’t sworn to let him live,” I admitted under my breath, and Arès chuckled.
“Well, I didn’t promise anything,” he said.
I couldn’t tell whether or not he was being serious, but there was no time to clarify before Iiro made a grand, sweeping gesture, effectively ordering everyone to take their seats at the table.
And the game officially began.