CHAPTER 37
“He spoke to me, brother.”
Jerris nodded.
“I felt him inside my head.”
“It’s the same for me.”
“Why was I chosen? Was it because of you?” I asked though I should have kept it to myself.
“No,” he denied, but he hung his head. “If it were up to me, I would have prevented this.”
—Recounting from the private diary of Patriol, Dragonbound
ELDRETH
Mid-Autumn, Beymon 1036
Dane sat on his throne and glared. The war council had been convened.
Half the members had arrived, while others still made their way from the outskirts of the city.
They would decide whether the danes, danas, and deins from across the Riht would be summoned.
Since restoring our city to safety, I had organized teams to supply aid to the hidden port and begin the rebuilding process.
I had spoken to the families of those who were killed both at the port and outside the walls.
I had bathed, dressed, and eaten. But I had not slept.
Even when I tried to close my eyes, sleep would not claim me.
“How did they know?” my father asked over the din.
That was my question as well. I shook my head and rubbed my face in my hands. “I don’t think they did.”
Dane grunted.
Ell and I sat directly across from him in our usual seats of honor within the council. My brother’s face was uncharacteristically grave. Serae’s absence at my side threatened to break me.
In my mind’s eye, all I could see were the drops of her blood staining the grass. Taking up equal space in my head was that spineless man with the pointed chin who looked at Serae like he owned her. His words rang in my ears.
Let’s get one thing straight. Serae is my betrothed. She always has been, and she will be until the day I marry her.
The prince of Rihtlond, brought low by the cunning of a woman.
Did you think she was yours? She was using you, fool.
The worst part was that his taunts had worked.
I had hesitated, just for one deplorable second, and they had whisked her back into their ranks and beyond my reach.
I had pressed my warriors forward, Branye and a newly recovered Praeth at my side, until every last Inraen soldier was fleeing on a ship or dead.
I had killed dozens of men, but my only regret was the one man I hadn’t.
At least he didn’t get away unscathed. I scored one hit before the coward turned and ran.
Dane’s hand fell on my shoulder. I looked up, not having registered him rising to his feet or descending from the dais. He held out his hand, and I gripped his forearm. He pulled me to my feet and looked me square in the eye.
“We will not rest,” Dane said. Ell stood and moved to my side. They boxed me in, blocking out most of the room.
I nodded. I held my body still and calm. My breaths were deep and even, but inside, I was crawling with guilt.
“Listen to me, Son.” It was my father’s voice this time, the command of the dane stripped away. “We will find her. We will get her back.”
The words tore something in me. “What if she doesn’t want to be found?” I could not meet his eyes as I gave voice to my fears, but I felt the question in his grip.
It was Ell who answered. “Serae will claw through the stars if that’s her only way back to you. If you don’t know that by now, you don’t deserve her.”
“Aye.” Dane nodded. He released my arm.
I wished she didn’t have to. I gripped their shoulders, giving the thanks I couldn’t bring into words. “Forgive me, I’m not myself.”
I moved to retreat to the back of the room, away from the focus of the assembly, but my father pulled me back into a beast of a hug that only a man his size could give.
I gripped him back, allowing myself this moment of weakness.
Next would come the planning. The time for strength and action waited around the bend.
But for this one moment, this span of heartbeats that we shared—even though it was in the middle of the Receiving Hall with only Ellán to block all the eyes of the Riht on us—I gave myself the grace to acknowledge my failure.
“Only lies spew from the mouth of envy,” he said, his voice rumbling in my ear.
He clapped my back, then held me at arm’s length, surveying me again. He nodded once.
“We need to talk,” I told my brother.
Dane’s face turned hard as he surveyed us, his two sons. “I expect both of you in my chambers after the council meeting. We have much to discuss.”
I left the Receiving Hall and made my way across the castle to my Training Hall.
My body thrummed to be with Serae. I should never have left her on her own.
The pull to be near her brought me to her Relaxation Room, calling forth my first memory of her here, candlelight dancing over her skin.
Despite the lack of sleep and the pain etched into her face, she had been radiant.
The door was already cracked, and I pulled up short when I heard voices.
“This can’t continue, and you know it.” Lispen, the little fierce one from Serae’s ranng, said. What on Jaeda was her ranng doing holed up in here?
“It can.” I recognized the voice as Raif’s. “I don’t give a fuck about my family or yours.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“You’re right. There’s nothing wrong with your family, but mine can fuck right off.”
I shifted, angling my head to see into the room. Not her ranng, then—just these two.
“Now’s not the time. Serae’s missing, Wep looks like he’s about to lose his shit, and you want to talk about this?”
This was a private conversation I didn’t need to get involved in. I was ready to pull away, but after hearing both of our names, I paused.
“Obviously I’m worried about Serae, but until the council approves a course of action, there’s nothing we can do.”
Lispen scoffed. “Wep won’t accept that.”
She was damn right I wouldn’t.
“Then we’ll follow whatever he chooses. There’s no debate here. But that changes nothing between us.”
“There is nothing between us! Raif, you need to stop. I’ve said no, and that’s final.”
“It can’t be final.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because I’m fucking in love with you!” he shouted.
Lispen was either shocked into silence, or something I definitely didn’t want to hear was about to happen. I continued down on silent footsteps toward the main training room.
“I will not be the reason you step out of line!” Lispen’s voice echoed through the stairwell.
I pushed through the training room doors and let them thump shut. I had a lot bigger problems than the two of them to focus on.
SERAE
Mid-Autumn, Beymon 1036
I didn’t remember my old room being so brown.
The wood paneling on the walls was honey oak.
The brick outer walling was tan and worn.
Even the flooring was oak, though largely covered by the surplus of rugs lying about.
The covers were the same floral as always, and aside from some decorative pillows strewn across the floor, they were the most color in the room.
I had always thought of this room as warm and inviting, especially compared to the cold harshness of my rooms in the keep.
Funny how things had changed. A few months ago, it would’ve been my dream to wake up back here in my old room. Today, it filled my heart with lead.
Judging by the distance I’d been taken and the sourness in my stomach, I had been unconscious for days.
My throat was dry and cracked from disuse.
My shoulder ached, and pangs of numbness shot down my arm.
I tried to sit up, settled for propping myself on my good arm, and cast around the room.
There was neither water nor a service bell on my bedside table.
One name ran through my mind—Gerta. If Merria’s letter was to be believed, she wasn’t here.
Merria. I’d have to put up with her again. Martyrs, I might even have to put up with Naton. Just the thought of him had my fingers itching for a blade.
But more importantly, where was Bale? Had he made it back, too?
Images flashed through my mind—Naton’s sword at my throat, Bale being restrained by a soldier he’d personally known, Eldreth cutting down men as easily as the blowing wind. The way he had looked at me…
I reached for Vaya’la, but I couldn’t complete the connection. The place she resided in my mind was barren. Hollow. Grief struck me, sharp and swift. She was gone, and I had no idea how to get her back. Or if I even could.
I shoved toward the edge of the bed, and my arm exploded in pain as I tried to put weight on it. I checked beneath my nightdress. The wound was bandaged and clean. I managed to move my hand and wrist, but I couldn’t raise my arm at all. This would make escaping much more difficult.
My door opened, and a maid came in with a tray. Gemma. Not Gerta. She had a lovely round face and a penchant for gossip, both of which brought her trouble. I’d also seen more than one guard leering after her in the hallways or courtyard over the years.
“Milady, you’re awake.” Gemma shuffled over to my bedside. “How are you feeling?”
“Parched,” was all I could croak out.
She lifted my legs and tucked them back under the covers, forcing me back against a pile of pillows.
“Stay right there.” Then, she returned with a tray, which blissfully held an entire pitcher of water.
She held the cup out to me, but when I reached for it, she didn’t let go.
With one finger extended, she cautioned, “Slowly, now.”
I nodded and sipped. The water was cool, but it burned on the way down. I spluttered and coughed. When it subsided, I tried again.
“That-a-girl.”
“Thank you, Gemma,” I wheezed out. A few more coughs, a few more sips, and my voice started to return. “Where’s Bale?”
The smile that spread over Gemma’s face was enormous. “Lord Bale is back and safe, thanks to you. He’s been in his room recovering, same as you, but he’s been up and about some. When he’s awake, I’ll have his man help him to visit you. How would that be?”
“Yes. Who else is here?”
“The whole family, milady.”
I nodded.
“No guests at the moment,” she added.