“Prince Rhen ordered it,” Malin says. “After the first scraver attack.”
Grey goes still. “After thefirst. That implies there have been more.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The king looks at me.
I look right back at him. “I told you—and your guard captain—it was urgent.”
His eyes narrow a bit at my tone, but he just says, “Tell me what happened.”
I do, beginning with the first attack on the ride to Ironrose and what we heard about Xovaar, and ending with us taking shelter in Briarlock, and what we learned about the other scravers from Nakiis.
“There have been rumors of attacks here, too,” Grey says. “No one has mentioned scravers specifically, just monstrous creatures. Many thought they seemed too far-fetched to be believed—and I thought perhaps it was the Truthbringers stoking discord after what happened in Briarlock.” He looks between the two of us. “But you are telling me thatwe don’t simply have to worry about the Truthbringers plotting against the throne, but scravers as well?”
“Scravers aren’t plotting against the throne,” I say. “They’re plotting against magesmiths.”
Grey’s eyes are full of storm clouds. “Againstme.”
Against us, I think, but I don’t say it.
Malin’s eyes flick in my direction anyway.
The king sees it immediately. “There’s more you aren’t telling me.”
I brace myself. “When Nakiis arrived in Briarlock, Malin was badly wounded. I used magic to heal him.”
He thinks about this for a moment. “Was this the only time you’ve used magic since the battle in Briarlock?”
I hesitate, then shake my head. “When the first scraver attacked, it nearly killed me. It tore into Jax, too. I used magic then, too.”
“So it’s possible the scravers may see you as a target as well.” His expression has gone cold, unreadable again, but I sense that he’s angry.
I should keep my mouth shut, but I’m too tired, and the night has been too charged with emotion. “Should I have let them die instead?” I snap. “You would have done the same.”
“Iwouldn’t have let Nakiis out of the cage in the first place,” he says. “Iwould have followed orders.”
I inhale a breath that burns like fire, and I’m not sure what I’m going to say or do, but Malin grabs hold of my forearm, his fingers pressing tight.
Fine.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” I grind out.
“You’re dismissed to your quarters,” Grey says. “Leave me Rhen’s letters. We’ll discuss this further once I’ve had a chance to review them.”
“As you say.” I stand and unbuckle enough of my breastplate to pull the sleeve of letters free, and I almost fling it at him, but I have more self-control than that. I set the leather binding on the table and look atMalin. “I’ll show you to the barracks and find you space. There’s a regiment from Emberfall here—”
“No,” says Grey. “Find him quarters near yours. You’re both to keep this to yourselves until I determine a path forward.”
I stare at him, but before I can say anything, Malin grabs my forearm again.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he says.
The king is glaring at me. I’m glaring right back.
I don’t know how we’ve gotten right back to this point.
Malin’s fingers dig into my wrist, and he all but drags me through the door, passing the royal guards stationed there.
