“Wehavealways been friendly,” he said. “And during my time in Windthorn I came to realize that there are more ways to feel and express love than we contemplate here in Elkat. But . . . if I am to marry, I would like to marry someone who wants me, and loves me. Not someone who thinks I will be a convenient curtain behind which she may carry on as she likes.”
“You, a prince of Elkat, believe you will be allowed to marry forlove?” She sounded amazed, but not scornful.
“I expect not. But I believe there are still vows to be made before one is married, and I believe myself capable of refusing to make them.” He shrugged. “If I find myself unable to refrain, I will certainly seek you out.”
She stood gracefully without putting any extra weight on his hand, and nodded. “I wish you luck, Prince Finnvid.”
“And I you.” He led her back to the Great Hall and saw his mother frown at their quick reentry. He turned to Gaiera then, facing away from the crowd, and said, “While I may not be interested in marriage at this time, it might be useful for both of us if weappearedto be contemplating it?”
“Are you asking permission to court me?”
“To a certain point, yes. If that would be agreeable to you.”
She smiled up at him. “It would be lovely,” she said with a charming curtsy. “And very convenient. I wonder how long we can put them off for that way?”
“As long as possible.” He saw movement in a group of older women and whirled so his back was toward them. “They’re coming over,” he said, and almost cackled when he saw the expression on her face; it matched his own dread so completely, and it felt good to have an ally. “Do you think it would be too scandalous if we ducked out again?”
“I think it would be the perfect degree of scandalous,” she said, already moving toward the nearest doorway.
He followed her, both of them holding hands and laughing like naughty children. The weight of everything would return, of course, but for that one moment, he felt light. They practically skipped along the hallway toward the kitchen: kindred spirits bonded by general disapproval.
And that was when the Sacrati appeared. Not Theos, but Andros. Andros, wearing a rough Elkati cloak, the hood up over his head with snow still on it. And there was someone with him. Someone smaller. They both spun, perhaps because they heard the small noise of surprise that rose from Finnvid’s throat, and they both stared. Andros and Gunnald. The fugitive Sacrati and the loyal Elkat soldier, together. And stealing toward the door to the cellars.
All three of them stared, frozen in place. Gaiera was the only one who moved, staring first at Finnvid, then at the others, then back at Finnvid.
He forced himself to act, nodding to the men and then turning to Gaiera, trying to seem normal despite the queasy apprehension roiling his stomach. “Maybe we should go back to the library.”
She didn’t argue. But as they started walking she hissed, “What’s going on?”
Finnvid froze again, then looked at Gunnald rather than Andros. “They’re protecting Elkati honor,” he said, ostensibly to her yet loud enough to be sure Gunnald would hear.
The old soldier nodded, just once, and then prodded Andros into motion. They disappeared down the stairs and Finnvid spun away, hoping desperately that they had a plan for disabling the guards rather than killing them. Theos needed to be rescued, and Finnvid would accept responsibility for whatever the outcome was; still, he didn’t want any more blood on his hands.
He briefly contemplated going down the stairs and ordering the men to surrender Theos, but it was already too late. Andros was Sacrati, and that meant he was quick and thorough. By the time Finnvid caught up, any damage would have been done.
“So we didn’t see any of that?” Gaiera said. She sounded willing to follow Finnvid’s lead.
That was the end of it. At least, itshouldhave been the end. Gaiera would cover for Finnvid while Theos and Andros escaped. The Sacrati would return to Windthorn, and Finnvid would go back to his old life in Elkat, without the dreadful tension of worrying about Theos all the time. He’d have to fret about a Torian invasion, he supposed, but that wouldn’t happen for a while, if ever. He could step away from it all and let Alrik make the decisions. Maybe hewouldmarry Gaiera.
He frowned down into her kind, confused face, and he shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I need to do something. Can you—would you mind—could you stay in the library? For as long as possible, before going back and telling them you were alone?”
“Alone? Where are you going to be?”
“I have business.”
She frowned, but then said, “You’ll tell me about it someday?”
“If I can,” he promised, and he kissed her quickly on the forehead.
Her eyes were bright and interested as she nodded. “Go. I’ll hold off the families.”
He ran. Up the stairs to his brother’s study, then down the hall to his own set of rooms. Then back to the kitchen, where he hovered indecisively at the top of the stairs. Would they still be down there, or gone already?
Finnvid pushed open the door to the courtyard and the footprints in the snow told the tale, although with the way the wind was blowing the trail wouldn’t be visible for long. So they didn’t have much of a lead on him. He jogged out into the snowy night, through the walled service yard, and yanked the wooden gate open. A sleigh was right in front of him, two dark horses hitched and ready, blankets piled in the back as if waiting for passengers . . . but no Sacrati in sight. How had he missed them?
He turned, saw a shadow change near the wall, and realized he hadn’t missed them at all. The shadow came closer, big and bulky, the movement rougher than he’d expected, and then he saw the man’s face. It was covered with dark bruises, cuts and scabs, and one of his eyes was swollen shut. “Theos,” Finnvid breathed.
Then Theos acted, far too quickly for someone so battered. An uncovered fist, headed straight for Finnvid’s face. His head rocked back, an explosion of pain and pressure across his jaw. And then darkness closed in from the sides, and Finnvid felt himself falling to the cold white snow.
