Keane’s summoning pushes hard into my chest and makes me rub a hand over my heart in discomfort.
“Rumor has it that he’s been seen traveling with your group to Pyre…”
“Rumor?” Desmond laughs, “or the man you had tailing us through Warrior?”
Troy’s cool blue eyes dart up in surprise before they’re quickly masked away with a look of indifference.
“Not tailingyou, brother, but a friend. He was sent to keep an eye on her.”
I shift on my feet, hating how easily he admits to it.
“She’s returned with you then, yes?” he asks, blue eyes darting back to the oak, searching again.
“She has,” Desmond angles himself towards his brother, putting himself between Troy and the Great Oak.
Troy notices his stance and frowns, “and our brother?”
“Riding in tomorrow with the delegation from Livyatan.”
“Interesting,” he nods, “I’m surprised you didn’t wait to ride with them.”
Stormfall ruffles his feathers above me while Desmond remains silent and unreading. The two brothers stand in awkward silence as more tension fills the room, the looks coming from both of them making me shiver.
“The man you sent to keep an eye on her,” Desmond takes a small step forward, “have you heard from him recently?”
I hold back a gasp at his question, feeling Keane’s summoning push hard against my lungs.
Why would he ask that?
“What have you done, Desmond?” Troy narrows his eyes.
Desmond takes another step forward, blocking Troy’s path to the trunk, “we’ll talk about that later when our brother arrives. The three of us are long overdue for a conversation.”
Troy scowls and rubs a hand along his jaw, “I’ll be busy entertaining the delegation. You know this.”
“You’ll make the time.”
“I will,” Troy smirks, “if you tell me who you were speaking with earlier.”
“Myself,” Desmond shrugs, “as you so casually called me out on.”
Troy gives him another knowing look, “and will you be speaking to yourself often under the Great Oak while you’re here?”
“Perhaps,” Desmond nods, “or at least until my travels take me elsewhere.”
“Already planning on leaving so soon, brother?”
“To Woodlands, yes.”
Troy stops his slow progress towards the oak, eyes moving to the Master Informer in a cold glare.
“Why?”
“To see what changes you’ve made there… if any.”
I watch as Troy’s features visibly harden into a scowl.
“I wish you safe travels, then,” the Woodlands Prince nods, “and hope you find what you’re looking for.”
