The interior of the tree house was pitch, and after the bright contrast of the bonfire, Alys couldn’t see anything. She went instinctively toward the center of the shelter, where she knew the tree’s trunk would be. Piers’s footsteps whickered past, and in a moment, the bright flare of a candle sprang to life, illuminating the narrow cot that was, thankfully, not suspended by ropes.
She watched him crouch down and fill and light the small brazier. He replaced the lid with a scrape and then stood, staring at her. Dressed as he was, he could have stepped from the crowd of Sybilla’s well-heeled friends, stood at the king’s side, sat the throne himself. His clothing was refined, his body large and intimidating, his expression feral. The candlelight gave the hard planes of his face depth and mystery; his eyes glittered, colorless. Alys’s heart beat with the rhythm of a thousand primitive drums.
He continued to stare at her, saying nothing, but she could feel his hesitation.
“Piers, do you want me?”
“I do,” he replied. “But there are things I must tell you.”
“What is there of such import that you would deny me?”
“Once I tell you, you may well deny me.”
Alys shook her head with a smile. “Never.”
“Ira is my grandfather.”
Perhaps it was only the wind, but Alys felt the floor under her feet sway. “Surely that’s impossible. Does he claim this?”
“‘Twas I who discovered it, when he took the signet ring from me. It belonged to his daughter—my mother, Elaine. When my father got a child on her, he had the signet ring made for her. When Ira found out his daughter was carrying the lord’s child, he tried to kill Warin Mallory. My father and Judith Angwedd had Ira banished from Gillwick. He was told that I succumbed to the same illness that claimed her, twenty-four years ago.”
Alys could only blink. “Piers, that—it’s so fantastical. Are you very sure?”
He nodded. “I am.”
Suddenly, Ira’s increasingly foul disposition toward her made perfect sense. She was noble, and she wanted a member of his family. The last time that happened to Ira, he had lost all. His home, his daughter, his grandson.
Piers broke the weighty silence. “He gave me back the signet ring, of course. And some information that I believe solves my father’s deathbed riddle—Bevan bears a mark on his chest. One that I have seen with my own eyes. Bevan’s true sire bears the mark’s twin.”
“The proof you need?”
“Mayhap. I still do not know for certain who fathered Bevan, but it is considerable more evidence than I possessed before you found Ira.”
Alys brought her hands to her mouth. “You have a grandfather,” she whispered.
He gave her a slight, crooked smile. “Thanks to you. I owe you a great deal, Alys. That’s why I must lay all of my plans out in the open.”
Alys dropped her hands from her mouth and held them out, walking toward Piers. “Why would such happy news give me pause? In truth, it only makes me more certain that we are meant—”
He grabbed her forearms, keeping her from embracing him as she wanted to do.
“Wait. There is more.”
Alys let herself be held captive by him, relaxing and looking up into his face. She would be patient.
“Whether the king grants me Gillwick or nay, I know that I will encounter both Bevan and Judith Angwedd in London.” She waited. “And once Edward’s decision is reached, I fully intend to see Bevan dead. By my own hands,” he added.
Alys’s heart skipped a beat. “You would kill him for what he has stolen from you.”
Piers shook his head. “He has played a part in stealing much from me, true: my father, my childhood, my self-respect—nearly my life. But more than that, he is a vile pestilence upon this earth, and I cannot abide him to live. You know not what he is capable of, Alys. And should I triumph in London, I would never rest easy in my own home while he lives. And neither would he. His entire life, Bevan has begrudged me the very air I breathed.”
“Piers, you are no killer.”
His eyes glinted in the candlelight, and for a moment, Alys was not quite certain that was true.
“Even if Edward sides in your favor, I doubt he would stand aside wordless while you take another man’s life,” Alys reasoned. “He could retract Gillwick the moment after you’ve won it.”
Piers had no reply.
