He says to Rian, “This doesn’t mean we trust you. You have a long way to go to earn back anything resembling honor. But…” He tips his head back, resting it on the throne’s seat. His eyes sink closed, a battle fought and over. “It’s a fresh start.”
“Just, please, no more Coffin,” Rian mumbles.
I touch my lips, hyper-sensitive and swollen, as I play back what just happened, my skin still snapping from the overwhelming sensations.
“House arrest.” My voice is barely a rasp, but it’s confident. I look at Basten. “He doesn’t leave Hekkelveld Castle without our permission. Two guards shadow him at all times. We give him a bedroom—he can sleep, go to the bathroom, eat in the dininghall.” I stretch out my leg, kicking Rian’s foot with my own. “If you mess this up, I’ll kill you for real.”
Rian grins up at the ceiling, eyes glassy and unfocused. “I’ve never had this.” He motions to the three of us with one tipsy finger. “Friends.”
“We aren’t friends,” I say, hard. “Istillmight kill you.”
But his smile doesn’t dim. He looks boyish. Almost…innocent, in a way I don’t think Rian Valvere has been a day in his life.
And it strikes me that maybe Rian only sought power because he was taught to want it. Cunning was beat into him by a cold-hearted father bent on domination. That maybe, what he wanted this entire time was simplyacceptance.
He takes another drink from his flask, sighing contentedly.
Chapter 28
Basten
The sun rises and falls over the city skyline, and word arrives that Immortal Vale is marching across the Astagnonian border.
I search for Sabine to give her the news, and find her on the balcony overlooking the Queen’s Walk, gazing north toward the distant Darmarnach Mountains.
A dove coos beside her, as she pets its snow-white feathers softly.
I stop at the open balcony door. She hasn’t noticed me yet. I lean in the doorway, letting my eyes drift over her.
Gods…she’s beautiful. There’s a quiet radiance humming under her skin. Her power is back—calm, coiled, sure—and the air around her vibrates with it. For the first time in too long, I feel perfectly in sync with her.
Is it wrong that a threesome between me, her, and Rian brought the two of us together? Maybe. It probably should have pushed us apart, driven the wedge further.
But ours was never the kind of love written in clean lines.
My boot scrapes the floor, and she looks over her shoulder.
A smile breaks across her face, broad and full-lipped. “Basten.”
I catch her chin to steal a kiss before leaning against the stone railing. I pull a messenger’s letter out of my jacket pocket. “This arrived at dawn. Your father departed Norhelm with the fae court in tow three days ago. Apparently, it’s quite the procession. They have Tòrr with them. Saddled goldenclaws. An army of devotees and acolytes praying the whole damn way. If they manage to keep to the schedule, they’ll be here tomorrow.”
Sabine sinks back against the railing next to me, leaning into my side.Gods, we fit so well together.
“Will the city be ready?” she asks.
I comb back my hair. “Kendan and Rian assure me they have it under control.”
She snorts. “I can’t believe they haven’t killed one another yet. Brothers raised in the Valvere household, under Lord Berolt’s tyrannical parentage.”
I wrap an arm around her back to pull her close. “Rian knows full well his actions must be pristine as a fucking saint if he wants to keep the shackles off. For his part, Kendan will do what is best for the kingdom, regardless of what irritating bastards he has to tolerate. Even his brother.Especiallyhis brother.”
She smiles as she picks up the dove in her cradling palm, stroking its back.
“I have to admit that Rian’s stunt has been more effective than I could have ever imagined,” I say. “Everyone is talking about Vale’s miraculous message—that he’ll slaughter any of the public’s enemies. And of course, they credit you with making it all possible, as savior of Old Coros. For the Fae Games, we’ve brought in extra troops from the southern villages to aid in crowd control. Additional food and supplies for the pilgrims we anticipate, too. As far as the festival grounds, they’ve overseen the construction of several stages throughout the city. Ferra’shelped design the decorations at the royal arena. I hear it’s over the top. Gold and silver, to honor both you and Vale. Hundred-foot-tall banners, living willows, painted dancers.”
Sabine holds out the dove, which takes flight into the blue sky. “The fae will love that.”
Despite her words, there’s a hitch of worry in her tone, and my protective instincts crop up. I run my hands down her arms. “You fear the Games will not go as planned?”
