“I’ll speak only to the Lady,” the man laughs quietly, bowing his head into his chest again as pain etches across his features. How he’s still awake through the pain right now is beyond me.
“You will do no such thing,” Keane’s cool voice states from the corner of the room.
My heart stops.
I push back against Golem’s hands but he continues to hold me in place.
“And why not?” the blonde Discerni chuckles from his seat, his breathing turning heavy, “rumor is she’s enjoyed chatting with a few Woodlands boys in the past.”
Keane’s hard footsteps move across the room and into view. Desmond flicks his dagger to him without a look, while Keane catches the blade in a solid movement before he swiftly brings it down. Three more fingers drop to the ground in that same moment, the soft thud of skin and bone greeting the floor just as the blonde finally passes out.
My eyes stare wildly on the Prince.
What in the actual fuck?
He’s done something like this before,multipletimes before.
Himandhis brother.
Their movements were swift and without hesitation, delivering a blow that they knew would put him out.
I tremble at the sight of the man before me, the true Leading Lord of the Court of Warriors. Keane’s face is hard, his brown eyes cool and nearly as dark as his brother’s as he glares at the blonde Discerni in hatred. It’s a haunting look, one that commands the room with his calm anger, and in this fleeting moment I feel the urge to run.
Fuck me.
“We could ask her to come,” Desmond bends down and checks the man’s restraints.
“No,” Keane replies, “she will not be involved in this.”
“She’s already involved in this, brother…” Desmond stands with his eyes narrowed on Keane. He walks over to a small table on the other side of the room and grabs what looks to be a cloth. “She is the reason why everything has happened recently.”
“Our fatheris the reason for all of this,” Keane replies quietly, “the rest of us are just reaping the fallout. Alexis included.”
Desmond walks back to the Woodlands Discerni with a scowl, holding the cloth and a small glass of water. He bends down to clean and wrap the man’s hands, obviously not wishing for him to bleed out just yet.
“He’s involved with Troy in some fashion,” Desmond says quietly.
Keane grimaces and walks over to the same table, taking a hard seat.
“I know.”
Troy?
Troy sent someone to follow me?
Why?
“We need to make haste for Bardot,” Desmond replies from behind the bloodied man, still bandaging him up.
“The horses will be ready tomorrow,” Keane nods.
He reaches a hand up to his temple and stares at the single candle that flickers across his face. He must’ve forgotten that his fingers are covered in blood, either that or he doesn’t care, because a thick streak of red covers his skin when he runs his hand through his hair, giving him a savage look.
“The Leviathans?” he inquires.
“Riding close to our borders,” Desmond scowls, “but never close enough to reach the range of our bows.”
“Leviathans at our west, Troy sending his own spies from the east. What’s next, Aireal crossing our northern forests for whateverdamn Ancientsreason?”
