If Inga had never complied with Magnus’s wishes.I couldn’t help but find Lord Riis in the crowd. Even among his sons, all red of hair except for Vale, Leyv stood out. He was a large faerie, in body and spirit.
The spymaster caught me looking and offered a small smile. I glanced away.
I hadn’t spoken directly to Lord Riis since the day he’d told me the truth of Queen Inga’s crimes against my family. If I hadn’t put so much trust in the male, if he hadn’t sworn to keep Vale and me safe, I might have forgiven him with greater ease. But he’d gotten me to trust him, all the while knowing the truth: My father had never been mad. That the Cruel King’s actions were spurred on by a whisperer, and my family had died for nothing.
Unfortunately, the people I cherished most loved the queen and the spider—shared their blood and many memories with the pair. I could not bring myself to hurt Vale, Saga, or the Riis brothers for my own revenge.
We reached the bottom of the dais. Vale and Thantrel positioned themselves just to our sides. As mates, rejected or no, they were important witnesses to the occasion.
Lord Balik descended the steps and came to a stop in front of us. His shoulders rolled back and down as he addressed the room at large.
“I thank you for journeying to my hall today to witness the sacred oath that House Balik intends to make. A promise of fealty and friendship to a royal house many thought long dead.” He inclined his head. “To Princess Isolde Falk and Princess Thyra Falk.”
He fell to a knee, and everyone in the room who called Tadgh Balik their lord or their father followed suit. The motion stirred something inside me, something not even Lord Riis’s solemn promise back at Valrun Castle had managed. I couldn’t put a name to the feeling, only that it made my chest swell as I took Sassa’s Blade in my hand. I touched the edge of the legendary sword to Lord Balik’s shoulder, then the next, before removing thezupriansteel.
“By blood and bone, by frigid wind and winter’s touch, I bind my fate to those of House Falk.” Lord Balik articulated the samevow that Lord Riis had spoken. The ancient words of loyalty and devotion to the Crown of Winter’s Realm. The same oath that every new ruler of House Falk had required upon their ascension to the throne.
“Whatever you may need from me is yours. May the dead gods bear witness, and may Winter’s Realm reject me should I break this oath,” Lord Balik finished, the moment gone so quickly.
I looked at Thyra. She gave a single nod, and I stepped forward.
“We accept House Balik as our banner house,” I stated proudly.
Thyra joined me. “And should others wish to make their oaths, we will hear them now. Rise, Lord Balik.”
The Warden of the South rose, but others remained kneeling. Lord Balik’s banner fae, and merchants who, though they had no army, wished to state their loyalty before those present.
“Thank you, Lord Balik.” A smile softened my lips. “Please sit while we accept the other oaths.”
The High Lord of the Southlands took his great, horned seat, and his banner fae knelt before us, began the words.
And so it went through the room, over and over and over.
Belly and heart full, I sipped my wine at the Balik’s table, content to revel in the victory. The possibilities.
After Lord Balik took his vow, three influential lesser houses in the south swore their allegiance to Thyra and me. Many wealthy and well-connected merchants in Myrr promised to support us as well.
Thyra and I had come so far from the day we’d first seen one another at the Royal Theater. The day she’d almost shot an arrow through my heart.
“Oh, to be a frostfly on the wall when King Magnus learns of what happened today.” Thantrel had indulged in much wine, and red stained his cheeks.
“You’ll have to settle for seeing his disbelief when we trounce him on the battlefield!” Prince Thordur’s fist pounded the table, his tone loud and merry. Apparently, too much wine had been drunk all around.
“I can’t wait for that. Or to see Frostveil,” Princess Bavirra said from where she sat by her brother, clad in a gown of gold that she borrowed from Baenna and had altered. As royals, we were sitting around one side of the high lord’s table. Thantrel had invited himself up, and Lord Balik hadn’t denied him. Nor had Thyra.
From the amused expression the Warden of the South was giving Thantrel, I had to wonder if Tadgh Balik even really wanted Sian to wed my sister.
“If Father lets you near the battle for Avaldenn,” Thordur corrected his sister.
The dwarven princess narrowed her eyes. “Why wouldn’t he?”
The Heir Prince of Dergia scoffed. “You’re not supposed to be here at all, Bav. You snuck into the army to save Nev—I mean, Isolde and her friends. He should have sent you back to Dergia.”
“As if I haven’t been training for such a thing for turns.”
The two swept into bickering, so I turned to Vale, sitting at my side. He had a certain look about him.
I cocked my head. “What are you thinking about?”
