I frowned at the backhanded compliment.
“The cost is simple, really, and complements the information my scouts discovered.”
I grunted for him to continue. He took his time, adjusting his doublet and folding his hands in front of his waist while I huffed in impatience.
“I grow weary of your games, Razia,” I growled, power oozing into my palm with my irritation.
Razia sighed but pulled his dark gaze to mine. “The scouts uncovered a fleet of ships readying in Samyr’s port harbor.”
I blinked, rapidly processing the information. “They mean to sail and attack.”
Razia nodded once.
“It would appear that way, yes.”
“How could my payment possibly coincide with that information.”
“You are still the heir to Iluul’s throne, yes?” he purred, and I blinked in response. Razia huffed before continuing. “We do not have the fleet capacity to defend against a naval attack. You need to use your rank in Iluul to secure us enough ships to manage a defense of Lishahl.”
I scratched my beard to hide the shaking of my hands. I hadn’t been back to Iluul since I left with Matamuri two decades ago. That was not common knowledge, and I intended to keep it that way, though it posed a bit of a challenge in securing the necessary naval power.
I don’t know if they’ll even recognize me . . .And not just physically—I no longer acted like a southern lord, no longer dressed as one. The northern half of my blood was too potent, the draw to the land here too powerful, and I wondered, deep down, if my father had found a replacement heir in my extended absence.
“Deal,” I agreed, voice heavy with the impending trip.
“Delightful. You will leave at once; I will have a carriage prepared?—”
I held up my hand and halted Razia’s words with a slight gust of air. His tongue stilled, eyes flashing in annoyance.
“You will not and I will not,” I commanded. “This is not a meeting I can simply go into without planning first. It will take weeks if not months to?—”
“You may nothavemonths, Torin d’Eshu,” Razia snarled, face reddening in sudden anger. “Their ships are moored in the harbor as we speak. At any time they could?—”
“They could,” I agreed, cutting him off once more. “But I am not prepared to leave yet. The south is not ready to receive me, and I am not yet ready to leave my wife.”
The moniker slipped out before I could take it back.
It wasn’ttrue,but it would be—soon, if I had anything to say about it.
“Wife?” Razia hissed, his turn to be caught by surprise.
“Yes, that woman you insulted so long ago? The one you were convinced was not worth rescuing? She is to be my wife.”
Razia hummed, blinking rapidly in thought. “I will alert Lord d’Leocopus. I am certain he would want the . . . honor of hosting your nuptials.”
Meaning: this is where we would be married—there would be no other choice.
I inclined my head, unsettled by the turn in conversation and itching to be near Ellowyn. With a grunt of acknowledgment, I turned and headed for the main staircase.
“Oh, Lord d’Eshu?” Razia’s voice slithered through the quiet space, twining around my chest just as my palm hit the dark wooden banister.
I paused, refusing to turn and look at him once more lest he see the war written on my face.
“My scouts said they heard whispers that the gods were looking for someone. A powerful female, by the sounds of it.” His tone was too casual, the information mentioned too offhandedly for it not to be a setup, yet my heart clenched in knowing all the same. “Best marry her soon, if you think that will keep her safe.”
I said nothing more, simply launched myself up the stairs and away from the information that just burst whatever small bubble of peace I’d concocted while watching Itanya play with Lex and Ilyas.
Chapter Thirty-One
