“How prettily you lie,” he replied, his eyes twinkling. “What a treasure you are.” He cocked his head, the beads in his hair clinking together softly. “You’re cold. Why don’t you warm yourself by the fire?”
She was cold. In fact, her fingers were numb, barely holding onto the blade.
Standing slowly, she stepped over Alden’s form once more and slid her blade back into its sheath. The Giver had come todeal, not to kill. He wanted something from her. Plus, he was much more skilled with a blade than she was. He’d probably turn it against her before she’d be able to harm him.
Lia held her hands out to the flames, the Giver visible from the corner of her eye. “So, what do you want from me?”
“Straight to the point as ever. That is what I love about you, Dahlia. You’re practical. Any other woman would have wept at the sight of their mum on the floor, but not you. You hardly batted an eyelash at the half-breed’s body.”
“Halfling,” she corrected. How funny. The Giver was a “half-breed” as well. Yet he thought himself better than poor Alden.
Dahlia shrugged. “There’s no point in tears. What would it change other than to distort my view of you?”
A pleased rumble sounded from his chest, and the hair rose along her arms.
Careful. Don’t tempt the devil.
She eyed the bright coals near the tip of her boot. She peeked at the fire poker to her right from the corner of her eye. If she played her cards right, she could get both her mother and herself out of here.
“What do you want in exchange for my mother?” she asked, her voice sounding cold even to her own ears.
“As you know, I’m in the employ of our magnanimous monarchs.” His tone was dry. “They sent you to complete an impossible task, and yet you accomplished it and escaped the Glace Palace.” Admiration filled his voice.
She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment as pain, guilt, and hate for herself rose to the surface. They’d made her a murderer.
You did that all by yourself.
“But you were never supposed to survive.”
A cold truth she’d suspected all along, but it was still hard to hear.
“You pose a problem for the monarchy. You hold too many secrets to live, and your death is beneficial, let’s say.”
“And yet I am still breathing,” she replied, opening her eyes. Lia shifted to the left so her right side faced the fire. The Giver had crossed his hands over his stomach and watched her with a crooked smile. “What doyouwant?”
He shook a finger at her. “Again, so smart. You’re one of my favorites, Dahlia.”
Not for long.
“War is coming.” He eyed her. “You do not look surprised.”
“I impersonated a princess for the monarchy, and they tasked me with assassinating the Loriian king.”
“And?”
She sighed and worked her jaw. “And after spending time in Loriia, I’ve come to the conclusion that the kingdom is unsettled.” There were too many shifty eyes and whispered conversations in hidden alcoves. And while she wasn’t a court lady, she couldfeelsomething brewing.
“King Neve was the last of his line. With his death, many cousins will be vying for the throne. Including your ladies in waiting.”
So Jekket had managed to get information to the Giver. Not surprising.
“Leaving the frost giants weak,” she supplied. Vulnerable to invasion. She edged her boot closer to the coals. Lia only had one chance to catch him unawares.
“Exactly. You, my sweet flower, have brought Loriia to its knees. An orphaned bard with no money to her name has single-handedly destroyed a kingdom.”
She felt sick. “Again, I ask you, what do you want with me?”
“While the monarchy believes your use to be over,Iknow better. War is profitable. There will be confusion in Loriia for these next few weeks as familial tribes grab for power. You cangive me much-needed information, too, about the land, and even about the Glace Palace. Not many humans get to see it, much less live to speak about it.”
