“I should never have left you to—”
“Stop,” she says, holding up a hand, the corners of her mouth quirking up. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t come here to apologize for being surprised by the Dealmaker’s trick.”
Now it’s my turn to stare in open-mouthed wonder.
“I— No, you’re right. Though an apology is still warranted.”
She shrugs, smirk firmly in place. “I’m still waiting on the ‘thank you’ for being your sicknurse.”
Gods, I have been an insufferable oaf.
“Thank you,” I say, closing the distance between us so that there can be no mistaking my sincerity. “For that and everything else you have done here. The castle—the reach—is better for having you in it.”
Ingrid’s eyes widen and the color drains from her face as she retreats a step.
Too close,I realize. Just because she doesn’t flinch at the sight of me doesn’t mean she wants to be physically near me.
“Wh-what was it you wanted to explain?” she asks, voice shaking. She’s turned away from me now, facing the throne tree, her arms wrapped around her sides.
Just like that, I’ve lost any ground gained with her. I curse myself, clenching and unclenching my fists before I answer.
“Crownwood is… That is, the throne—”
Ingrid’s taking one slow step after another toward the throne as I stumble over words. She tilts her head curiously, then with one halting hand, reaches out to touch one of the branches.
“It’s sick, isn’t it?” she asks. “That’s what you wanted to tell me. No one’s come outright and told me, but I think I’ve gotmost of it. The former king was terrible and didn’t take care of it properly, and now it’s up to us to fix his mess. Am I close?” She looks back over her shoulder, the spark in her eyes daring me to contradict her.
“Not far,” I confirm, my heart still trapped in a clenched fist.
“Farandir wasn’t simply a terrible ruler, he was…sick. There is a rot that’s attacking Crownwood, choking the life out of it. Right now, we are doing everything we can to preserve what health it has in the hopes that it might recover, but…”
“That’s why you took the throne,” she says, a statement, not a question. “I asked Duke Calessevan, but he dodged answering.”
“I’m not surprised,” I say, fighting to keep a growl out of my voice. “His mate was humiliated when the infestation was discovered. TheEmerald Bladecouldn’t even realize her Sacred Grove was dying under her watch.”
“The duchess?” Ingrid asks with a gasp, her eyes unfocused like she’s replaying an earlier event. “That…actually explains a few things,” she says, dropping down into the throne like it’s any other chair.
My whole body tenses, instincts still making me feel like a naughty child loitering where he doesn’t belong. But I’m not. Neither is Ingrid.
In fact, she looks like she’s right where she belongs.
I sit on the edge of the dais at her feet, both of us gazing out into the distant dark at the far recesses of the room.
“The humiliation wasn’t hers to bear alone, though,” I say, shoulders bowed. “There were hundreds of years of decline. Increasingly erratic behavior. Trade deals that made no sense. But the Wardens serve at the pleasure of the Crown. Itwasn’t our place to question what he did. We should have anyway. Illegal and immoral orders, turning us from a respected regiment to plundering marauders, robbing the countryside to stuff his coffers, which were always mysteriously empty…” I sigh, dropping my head to my hands. It’s not something I’ve ever had to explain. Everyone elseknowswhat happened with Farandir. We all lived the nightmare together.
“That should have been the worst of it. That should have been enough for us to turn our arms against him.”
“Your loyalty isn’t a weakness,” Ingrid says from behind me. “It was misplaced, but it shouldn’t be discarded.”
She doesn’tknow.
“We learned through our intelligence network that he was planning to swear fealty to the Shadow King.” No one outside Valenar and my other co-conspirators in the coup know about that final straw. Tarnished as Farandir’s legacy is, it would do more harm to Emerald’s reputation if anyone realized how close we were to being a vassal state.
“Everyone knew he liked stem. It was a problem. No one realized howmuchof a problem it was. His demand for it was making the reach destitute, that we could tell, but no one realized it was poisoning us, too. Soulstem is invasive and toxic. Once it takes root, getting rid of it is near impossible.”
“Wait, the ‘stem’ the king was addicted to wassoulstem?” Ingrid asks, her voice moving closer as she joins me sitting on the dais. “That’s what destroyed all the halemercy meadows, right?”
“More things you learned in your classroom?” I ask, arching a brow.
