Out of our friend group, Caelo and Thantrel were the two with the most experience with the ladies. I had to agree, though. I’d seen a grin like that on Isolde’s face, usually right before she shoved me to a bed and had her way with me.
“I’m feeling jealous of all the romance in the air.” Caelo wagged his sword-sharp brows. “Been traveling and protecting for too long. Do you think Lord Balik would have his guards stop me if I went to a tavern to find a lady of my own?”
“By the dead gods, Caelo, not everything is about you.” Duran waved him off. “I want to hear the details, Qildor.”
“What is there to tell? She’s married. To Jarl Triam.”
I cringed, the name bringing forth the horrible memory of the day the king had announced that betrothal. Marit had been utterly distraught. As had her family. All of that devastation had gone according to King Magnus’s desire and plan.
Another reason he should no longer rule. No one should delight in seeing others so miserable.
“That murderous jarl has gone north to fight for the king,” Sian said. “He left his wife at home, and you happened to scoop her up. The bastard didn’t want a highborn wife that badly after all.”
“I didnotscoop her up.” Qildor muttered. “Fates, you make her sound like a damsel or a treat to be gobbled down. She was trying to escape on her own, and I helped.”
“After traveling south to break her out. You’re not getting out of this without looking like the hero you are, Qildor. So stop trying.” Sian crossed one ankle over his knee.
I stared at the knight, unable to believe that I hadn’t worked it out sooner. “You forsook your Clawsguard oath to rescue her, didn’t you, Qildor?”
He swallowed. Nodded.
My stomach pitted. No one here would care, especially not after the king had whipped Qildor nearly to the afterworld for bearing witness to my wedding. But if the King of Winter ever got his hands on my friend again—if any lord or lady loyal to Magnus did—they would kill my friend. They would call such a killing justice.
“Thyra and Isolde will wipe that marriage off the slate.” Thantrel waved a nonchalant hand through the air. Perhaps I was the only one thinking about the broken vow, but I doubted it. Even for Than, his carefree tone sounded forced. He was trying to change the subject. “You may as well go woo the lady. It’s clear you want to, and that she wants you in return.”
“We’ll see.” Qildor took a deep drink of his ale, and I searched for a topic that would take the heat off of him.
I did not need to do so. Not with Filip, who had not said more than two words since we entered the den, took control of the conversation.
“So, what’s going to happen to Prince Rhistel?”
And just like that, I wished we’d stayed on the topic of Qildor and Marit.
“I’m not sure,” I admitted.
Not that those in the Falk Court hadn’t spoken about it. If my brother harmed Isolde or her sister or anyone here, I’d beat him bloody. And yet, no matter how irredeemable my twin was, I still found it difficult to condemn him to death.
“Exile maybe.” I swallowed.
“Right,” Filip seemed to stare right through me. He was in the small group of those who knew Rhistel was a whisperer. Though Filip had learned from experience, not my lips. I hadn’t shared that information with Sian, and we’d been friends since childhood.
Both of the remaining secrets I held burned within me, hotter by the day. I wasn’t sure which was worse—that my wife, the love of my life, and her twin had shadow magic or that my mother and brother were whisperers.
A rumor that the Falks kept such dark powers secret for thousands of turns would suit Magnus’s purposes of sowing distrust with regard to the Falk twins. Particularly when pairedwith the truth that the twins possessed no control over their shadow magic
“The matter of Prince Rhistel should be better thought through,” Filip added, sourness obvious in his tone. I wasn’t sure he’d ever liked Rhistel, but my squire had thoroughly despised my twin since the day he’d witnessed Rhistel trying to take advantage of Isolde in Frostveil’s library.
“What do you want from me, Filip?” I retorted. “That I’ll say my twin should die? Well, sometimes I do want that. Other times, I feel like an ogre for saying such things. It’s complicated.”
“You wouldn’t have to do it,” Filip countered.
“Why are you pushing him so hard on this?” Sian placed his elbows on his knees as he took in his younger brother. “This is unlike you.”
“Perhaps I’m growing into my role,” Filip replied. “If Father allies with the Falk sisters, I may end up being Lord Balik sooner than I’d like.”
By the dead gods, I was a real arse. This wasn’t all about me, but about what an impending war could do to a family. To the Balik family and thousands of others.
“Don’t think like that.” Sian aggressively tapped a finger on the arm of his chair.
