Gods, it feels like a lifetime since I was here last. Riding up at Rian’s side. Ready to swear my life to him all over again.
The castle’s entryway, Raven Hall, is blessedly cool, a still eddy carved from the chaos thrumming at the outer gates. Stone columns flank the foyer, their carved ravens staring down with stone eyes. Light spills in through high arched windows, glinting off the mosaic floors.
Sabine’s shoulders drop a notch as her gaze drifts across the room’s symmetry, the hush of it. No shouting. No stench of the streets. Here, at least, there is still law. Still control.
“You’re here, finally,” a voice says. “We were about to send an army to see if you’d been run through by a monoceros horn.”
Lord Kendan strides down the central staircase, his Lord of the Iron Banner’s cloak billowing behind him. A white-haired general, old but tough as bricks, flanks his left side, and Lady Suri Darrow skips down at his right, her eyes full of bubbly joy at our arrival.
Kendan stops, his cloak coming to rest around his polished boots.
He’s barely taken a breath before he kneels, bowing his head. “Rising King Basten. It is an honor.”
I scratch my jaw, groaning.
This whole “king” thing is going to take some getting used to.
Nowthispretty bastard? Kendan is exactly what a king should look like—practically stepped out of a damn gilded frame hanging in the royal archives.
Not my potato-hauling ass.
“Get up, Kendan, for gods’ sakes,” I grumble.
Kendan bristles against my lack of decorum, blinking hard, but then bows to Sabine.
“Lady Sabine. I’m Lord Kendan Valvere, at your service. As Lord of the Iron Banner, it’s my duty to bridge the gap between the army and the king—or at least, it was, before the city fell apart.”
Sabine recoils slightly at the surname. “Rian’s brother.”
Kendan grimaces. “His eldest, yes. Our middle brother, Lore, took to the Panopis Sea years ago.”
“We can trust Lord Kendan,” I begrudgingly inform Sabine. “Despite his Valvere surname. Kendan hasn’t double-crossed us, and gods know, he’s had plenty of chances.”
“It’s true.” Lady Suri bounces on her toes, clasping her hands at her chest. “Kendan is a…well, a highly honorable man. Oh, it’s so good to see you, Sabine!”
She flounces herself into Sabine’s arms. Sabine stiffens only for a second, her pulse still on edge—she’s in more than one disguise, after all—before melting into a hug with Suri that ruffles my jealous edges.
I’m glad she has a friend, no question.
But my protective instincts are working overtime.
I glance between Suri and Kendan, quietly observing their stances. Hard not to notice that strange, almost formal pause Suri used when talking about him. When I left Old Coros, the two of them were practically engaged. Hell, I figured it was only a matter of time before their wedding announcement. The only thorn between them seemed to be Rian—who delighted so wickedly in teasing Suri.
What’s gone stale between them?
“You feel chilled to the bone.” Suri pulls back, frowning in concern at Sabine. “Are you well?”
“It’s…just the journey,” Sabine stutters. “I’m exhausted. And this old cloak doesn’t hold much warmth.”
Suri takes Sabine’s hands, rubbing them in her own to warm them, but then squeaks in surprise. “This ring! Does it mean you’re married?”
She looks between Sabine and me with wide eyes.
A genuine smile breaks out across Sabine’s face. I can’t help but puff up my chest a little, adjusting the potato sack on my shoulder.
“We are,” Sabine says, smiling.
Suri squeaks with delight.
