Chapter Seventeen
Milo
Raghnall was not a man known for his levelheadedness.
Even so, I thought I’d never seen him as furious as he was now, and that anger was reflected in the expressions of the sons at his back and the granddaughter he’d chosen to replace Cora in this group.
I watched her as the others spat their grievances the moment the door was shut behind us, none of it any different from what I’d heard from my own family below.
In truth, I couldn’t say I disagreed with them.
Cosmo was a monster who needed to be put down but, if we didn’t do it the right way, we risked setting a dangerous precedent that any of the major Houses had the authority to neutralize a patriarch without following proper protocol.
And if we set that precedent, the future would be chaotic.
So we had to do this the right way, by the book.
I was letting Nascha explain just that while I turned my attention from the new girl to my wife.
Isla sat beside her grandfather, as all Heirs were intended to do, and frowned quietly as the matriarch of House Avus laid out the facts before them, taking pains to soothe Raghnall’s temper.
If the man had his way, we’d all march right over to House Viper this instant and bring the old man to his knees before sending his own head rolling across the pavement.
I had to admit I was almost tempted to let them do it.
But the precedent.
The door clicked shut again and I looked up to find Luca and Olympia had entered after lingering in the hall a bit longer than anyone else.
I watched my cousin as she settled into the corner and leaned against the wall with crossed arms. Something was going on with her lately, something that may or may not have to do with Luca.
They were communicating through the bond again, I knew it by the way she’d reacted just before he and the others had entered downstairs.
She’d gone suddenly still before meeting my gaze and turning toward the door.
She’d known he was coming which could only mean he’d warned her as Isla had warned me.
That was interesting. Olympia knew better than anyone that communicating via the bond with a former partner you weren’t married to was forbidden.
Then again, my cousin had never taken well to anyone telling her what she could and could not do.
She seemed to thrive on acting against what she was told.
Still, it was something to keep in mind moving forward, that whatever I told Olympia had a chance of getting back to Luca as well.
“How do we begin this infernal process?” Raghnall barked loudly enough to draw me out of my thoughts.
“First, the minor houses will need to be notified of their involvement in any trial concerning the patriarch of a Major House,” Nascha said.
“Or matriarch,” Raghnall’s unnamed granddaughter mumbled.
“Lyra,” one of Raghnall’s sons snapped.
I recognized the name and looked her over with a new understanding. She was the one they’d offered to Dante, the one he’d refused outright. Maybe Dante had been more perceptive than I’d thought.
“Once the leaders of the minor houses are notified, we’ll need to send for witnesses, as many as we can get, as well as any priests who may be experts on Cosmo’s undoubtedly theological defense,” Nascha announced, saying almost exactly the same words I’d spoken to her earlier today.
“If we can get a few Guardians to testify as well, that would go a long way.”
“The priests and Guardians all belong to the Vipers,” Raghnall grumbled. “You won’t find any of them willing to testify against Cosmo.”
“Civilians then,” Nascha said. “Witnesses who saw him do it.”
“Third Ringers and Deckers, you mean.”
“There weren’t any from the Second? Or even the First?”
“Anyone from the First would have been at the wedding or a Viper. The Second…who knows? Maybe some families of the Culled, though they don’t usually attend. It’s a long shot.”
“Over three dozen people saw him behead a fifteen-year-old boy,” Olympia spoke up from the shadows. “Are you telling me they aren’t enough?”
Nascha frowned at her granddaughter before answering.
“Tensions are high in Sanctuary,” she began, “and rising by the second. The leaders of the minor houses are getting anxious. They won’t be inclined to believe the word of the lower ringers without confirmation from someone higher up.”
“Thirty of them,” Olympia repeated, disgust evident in her tone. “They wouldn’t believe thirty people telling the same story over one snake lying to their faces.”
“Olympia,” my grandmother warned.
My cousin rolled her eyes and leaned back against the wall with a huff. Nascha turned back to our guests.
“What needs to be done?” Raghnall asked, relatively calmer.
“Leave the minor houses to me,” Nascha said. “You find me witnesses.”
Raghnall nodded and rose from his seat. With a nod toward his family, they all headed for the door. Isla rose as well but hesitated, looking from her grandfather to me.
“Stay, Isla,” Raghnall said without looking back at her, as if he’d known her struggle without seeing it. “Your place is here now.”
We fell silent as the Lynx family filed out, Nick disappearing to see them to the door.
Paxon and Cleo left soon after, heads bowed together in low conversation, which left me alone with the three women who seemed to plague me the most. Nascha’s gaze fell on Isla as Olympia pushed off of the wall and approached.
“Should I follow?” Olympia inquired.
Isla’s gaze snapped to her and narrowed.
“Go,” Nascha ordered.
My cousin nodded once before slipping out of the study and into the hall, off in the shadows to trail the Lynx patriarch.
“You spy on us,” Isla spat, head swiveling toward my grandmother.
“Be careful with that ‘us’, girl,” grandmother warned, tone firm. “You’re Lynx no longer.”
“I’m the Heir.”
Nascha turned slowly to me.
“A complication I hadn’t foreseen,” she mused.
“You’re both,” I informed her, striding past the women to settle into my desk.
I frowned down at the blood on my shirt and realized I should have sent Paxon for a fresh change.
“Olympia means no harm. So long as Raghnall’s intentions are pure and he’s capable of following instructions, no one will even know she was there. ”
“And if he isn’t?” Isla asked.
“You tell us,” Nascha challenged.
Isla’s frown deepened as she raised her chin a fraction further, defiant. I sighed. This was not going how I hoped it would.
“Perhaps you’d like to get settled into your new room?” I asked my wife. “Maybe find a change of clothes?”
That made it worse. She glared at me as her jaw tensed.
“Fine,” she spat.
Then she turned on her heel and stormed from the study, slamming the door shut behind her so hard some of the books rattled in their shelves. I leaned over the desk, pinching the bridge of my nose and breathing deeply.
“That was poorly handled,” my grandmother spoke a moment later.
“Funny,” I scoffed, sitting back to look at her. “I was going to say the same thing to you.”
“Me?”
“She’s my wife now, grandmother, due to a proposition you brought me, I might add. She isn’t the enemy and doesn’t deserve to be treated with such suspicion.”
Nascha’s glare lingered for a moment longer before subsiding.
“Sometimes I forget how much older you are now,” she said quietly.
“I’m beginning to feel that age, unfortunately,” I muttered.
Nascha snorted.
“You have no idea, hafid,” she added. She rounded the desk to put a comforting hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sorry the snakes ruined your wedding day.”
“I suppose that’s another thing I’ll have to find a way to make up for with Isla,” I replied with a shrug.
My grandmother nodded, letting her hand slide from my shoulder as she strode away toward the door. At the sound of my pulling the diary from the drawer and flipping it open on my desk, she turned back around with a frown.
“Don’t lose yourself for long, Milo,” she warned. “Your wedding day isn’t over yet. You’ve got a wedding night to attend to.”
I stiffened, every muscle in my body going rigid as my grandmother swept from the room and closed the door with a snap behind her as though she’d said nothing of any importance at all.
Truthfully, I’d forgotten about the consummation, not that it’d been a major focus of my considerations for the day anyway.
A beheaded boy and the raging sociopath responsible had derailed all festivities so soundly I’d nearly lost myself in the politics and forgotten I’d gotten married entirely. But I had.
Isla was my wife.
I just stared down at the pages, blinking.
Sheets of paper lay scattered around the diary, bits of the copied journal Paxon and the acolyte were working to create that I’d tried matching to mentions of certain places or people in Simi’s wild rantings.
The words swam on the page so I could no longer even hope to read them.
Marriage, beheading, consummation. It was too much for one day, too much for one man.
I reached for the decanter and poured myself a glass of whiskey, hoping it would settle my nerves.
“I really shouldn’t have put this off,” I muttered into the glass, staring down at the contents with a frown.
But there’d never been time. I’d earned my reputation for obsessive study honestly, shutting myself up in the library all hours of the day, rushing home from the excessive parties the Patriarchs threw and the more debaucherous ones afterwards the Heirs did.
Cora was the only woman I’d ever looked at with even a modicum of interest and she hadn’t returned it.
Still, I should have found a way to experience intimacy, at least once, before my godsdamned wedding.
I nearly sagged in relief when someone knocked on the door. I called them in immediately, thanking gods I didn’t believe in. A distraction was precisely what I needed.
When Pax entered with a frown, however, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was a coward.