“Don’t do it again. I miss our evenings in the library. Lachlan’s terrible at chess and comes close to pouting when I beat him,” she murmured, smoothing my brow with her hand. “Did you finish exploring the coastline of the Svellvollr?”
She knew I was making a detailed map of the Northern Sea. She just didn’t know why. “Yes, Mother.”
“Good. I know you’ll want to finish your map while it’s fresh in your mind, but if you have time to look over the household accounts, I’d appreciate it. Did you put clean linens in Goran’s room?”
“I did, and some bouquets in all the bedrooms. Lavender and rosemary, along with some fresh mint. I’ll do the books in the morning and make sure the butcher’s not robbing Lorana at the market.”
“Well, that works as an apology very nicely. One more thing: a few of the riders came in early and said we’ll need another room. Yours.” Her lips twitched for some reason.
“What?”
“Change your bed linens and add as many blankets and pillows as you can find. Strip them from any room you need… ah, except perhaps Lachlan’s. Then put an extra pallet in Lachlan’s room for yourself.”
Lachlan let out a soft exclamation behind me. “Why?” The scent of salt and rosemary in the room grew sharper. “Aren’t his warriors camping down the road as usual?”
I was curious as well. Goran slept in the house with us when he was around, but he’d never brought his warriors inside, or even his generals. Not with Lachlan here.
There sure as hells wasn’t room inside for a contingent of Starlakians. My hands twitched for a weapon at the scent of Lachlan’s distress, though I knew it would be an offense to greet the warriors armed. My pelt, though, afforded me the strength of both my forms at once when I wore it, even just tied aroundmy waist. Selkies like me might not be as large as Starlakian warriors, but with our pelts, even in human form we were at least as strong as five men.
“I need my pelt, Mother. If unknown Alphas are coming into the cottage—” I had to be strong to protect him.
She sniffed. “He’ll be fine. The advance riders are setting up the tents in their usual place, and Lorana is sending part of the feast there. But we’ll have three guests inside the house this time. Goran, a Beta priest from the Southern Reaches named Alexios, and a woman.”
“A woman,” Lachlan repeated. “Who?”
Her dark eyes reminded me of a sudden riptide as she glanced my way. “His Warqueen.”
“Rada,” I whispered before my tongue froze to the top of my mouth, and I couldn’t say anything more.
RADA
The ride to the coast was eternal, and not only because Goran was avoiding me. The poison I’d coated my knives with had kicked in that night. The affected warriors ended up vomiting off the sides of their horses, some of them having to be thrown into a cart that they bought from a crofter, even after I gave them the antidote. We traveled as slowly as a funeral procession at times, though no one died.
But not a single one would speak to me. Most of them stared at me like they’d discovered me kicking their favorite puppy down a cliff, with equal parts fascination, disgust, and hurt.
All but one of them. Dustin clung to me like a burr, begging for tasks to do for me, and murmuring the absolute worst poetry at the least appropriate times. It wasn’t until I’d stepped away from the rest of the group for a moment behind a bush and heard him mutter under his breath, “Though her throne be of grasses when water she passes, no odor befouls as she moveth her bowels,” that I snapped.
“No more poetry, Dustin,” I said clearly, and just so he wouldn’t mistake my seriousness, I stated it with a dagger at his throat. “If you cannot resist, I will stab you for each poem you attempt until the mood has passed.”
“Yes, my lady,” he blubbered.
Goran chose that moment to come thundering back to the group, his gaze arrowing to the dagger I held at the boy’s throat. He wouldn’t discipline the boy, though; he was mine now, removed from the army, though a few of his less-poisoned friends had snuck over during the nights to whisper and gossip.
Without a word to me or Dustin, Goran turned to Alexios. “Priest, I’m sending advance riders to alert the house. Will you stay in the house, or with the troops?”
I answered for Alexios. “He’s not a priest. And he stays with me, in my room.”
I loved watching the muscles jump when Goran clenched his jaw. He nodded and rode away again. I released Dustin, who fell to his knees.
“You’re cruel to him,” Alexios murmured as he helped me remount, then sprang up behind me again, like he had wings. “You know he loves you still.”
Dustin had found his own mount and made a soft choking sound beside us. I refused to consider what I was going to do with a second valet.
“Loving Goran was never the problem,” I said softly to Alexios a mile or so down the road. The others were ahead of us, far enough not to hear my explanation. “And I have to be cruel. It would be worse to lead him on.”
“Lead him on?”
“He said he wanted me to be his Warqueen. But the Goddess only wanted me to be his wife.” We’d been so close for so long, I could sense Alexios’s confusion by his breathing. “Goran vowed that I would be his equal, ruling at his side, once we completed our mating claims.”
