Alarik smiled. Lucky indeed.
A slant of sunlight slipped through the glass, bathing them in golden warmth. They regarded each other in the upper hallway of the guest wing, their faces softened by relief, their eyes bright with hope.
Elva blew out a breath. ‘What now, then?’
‘I’ll tell Lief the wedding is off,’ said Alarik. ‘Although it’s too late to halt the Halgardian nobility. They should be here by noon.’ He quailed at the thought of King Nilas’s reaction to their decision. ‘I’ll have to come up with another way to thank your father for his assistance in the Battle of the Blackspires.’
And to compensate for his many losses there.
Even though Princess Elva was content to dissolve their alliance, he still owed much to the kingdom of Halgard. He would have to offer them something invaluable to prevent another diplomatic disaster. He already had enough war on his hands.
‘Gevrans are resourceful. You’ll think of something, I’m sure,’ she said,encouragingly. ‘And in the meantime, you’ll be glad to learn that my father enjoys a tense negotiation every bit as much as a good party. It would be a shame to let all that frostfizz go to waste.’
Alarik embraced Elva. She might not be his bride, but she had become a most treasured friend. Now, and always.
He left her to inform her own lady’s maids, taking the stairs two at a time as he went in search of his wrangler. He ran into Johan on his way to the courtyard, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him close.
‘I have a job for you, Johan.’
His steward blinked in alarm. ‘Your Majesty, you are still in your nightshirt.’
‘Never mind that now. Go and tell the servants that the wedding is off. The king and the princess have changed their minds.’
Johan’s brows shot up. ‘Truly?’
Alarik nodded. ‘I’ll double your salary if you tell Lief, too.’
Johan winced. ‘Oh dear.’
‘Now. Where is my wrangler?’
‘Yet to surface, I believe.’
It was past sunrise. Greta was never late. Unease coiled in Alarik’s gut. It sent him marching back into the palace and down the stairs, where the rest of the soldiers had already risen and dressed for the day. He knocked on Greta’s door, then waited.
And waited.
‘Greta?’
He opened the door and peered inside. There was no sign of her. The bed was unmade, and the closet was wide open,her clothes spilling out like she had rifled through them in a hurry. The oil lamp on her wall was gone and so was her satchel. There was water and glass all over the floor.
He frowned. Had she left him? Grabbed her things and fled in the night?
No,no. She’d never leave without saying goodbye. And where would she go?
His heart climbed into his throat as he stomped from the bedchamber. The ground rattled beneath his steps, the wind roaring through the stone walls. He paid it no mind, his focus solely on his wrangler. She was not in the dining hall or training in the arena. She was not in the forest or by the pens. He arced around the palace, making for the elderberry trees, just as Captain Vine came running across the front lawn.
She stopped Alarik in his tracks, her greeting drowned out by a sudden, thundering crack. The mountains shook as the rock cleaved, the earth thrumming from the force of the quake.
‘I’ve just gotten word from the guards at the gate,’ she said, half breathless. ‘Greta has gone into the mountains. With Elias.’
Alarik’s heart juddered. ‘She wouldn’t,’ he said at once. ‘And certainly not with Elias.’
What business did Elias have in his mountains?
With his wrangler?
Dread gripped Alarik, new suspicions suddenly rising to the surface.
