‘I promise,’ he said, with a huff. ‘Just put the sword down.’
She turned back to Alarik. ‘Ihatethis.’
‘I know, wildling.’ He reached for the sword, and she let him take it. He tossed it behind him, then took her hand,gently pulling her into his chest. He didn’t care that Tor was watching, only that she was stricken, and he was the cause of it. ‘Let me talk to him alone, all right?’ he murmured. ‘He’s confused and angry, and I owe him that much. We can be reasonable.’
Her lips twisted as she weighed his words.
‘Go on,’ said Tor, with a sigh. ‘I’ll come find you after.’
‘Fine,’ she said, at last stepping away. Her voice hardened as she raised her finger in warning. ‘But if either one of you moves to strike the other, I will send Baldur and Nel in here to devour you. Imeanit.’
Alarik bit back a smile. ‘Fair.’
Tor dipped his chin. ‘Fine.’
Satisfied with their agreement, Greta stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
They stared after her, both gathering the strands of their composure.
Tor broke the silence. ‘What the hell are you playing at, Alarik?’
Alarik didn’t know where to begin. He could only offer his best friend the unbridled truth, in the hope it would go some way to explaining the hellscape in which they now found themselves. ‘A few months ago, Elias reported the first stirrings of a Vaskan invasion to me. I needed a wrangler to get my beasts in line. So, I wrote to your sisters. Greta chose to come.’
Tor nodded. He already knew this part. He had been home to Carrig, after all. But he didn’t know the rest. ‘My beasts adore her. She trains them with formidable skill and focus, and yet cares for them with softness and grace. She feels their needs as if they were her own, and she meets them without hesitation.They would do anything for her.’
Alarik couldn’t help the tenderness in his voice. It must be obvious to Tor that he shared in his beasts’ devotion to their wrangler, that he himself would do anything to make her happy.
But his friend’s face was like stone. ‘That’s her way,’ he said, stiffly. ‘The wild has called to Greta since she was a child. She has always known how to respond to it. How to embrace it.’
‘If it wasn’t for your sister, I would have ceded the Blackspires to Queen Regna.’
Tor’s brows lifted, pride flitting across his face. ‘So, she is a good wrangler.’
‘My best.’ Alarik smirked. ‘No offence.’
Tor snorted. ‘Is that why you grossly overpay her?’
‘I pay her what her work is worth.’
‘Sure you do.’ He rolled his eyes, the ire in them fading. ‘I know what wranglers earn, Alarik. I saw what you did for my family. What you gave them when I was away and unaware of their suffering.’
Alarik said nothing. He didn’t consider it a kindness, but his duty. He had done the same for countless families across Gevra since his talk with Greta that night of the welcome ball. He would continue to do it, for as long as he was king.
‘Your sister opened my eyes to another kind of war,’ he explained. ‘To struggle and starvation, and the toll of an unforgiving winter. I don’t want any of my people to suffer, Tor. Least of all your family. I sent aid to them, and to all on Carrig.’
Tor nodded slowly, taking in his words. ‘So, you value her advice.’
‘Greatly.’
‘And her skills as a wrangler?’
Alarik nodded. Hadn’t he said as much?
‘And you know that she’s my younger sister. The jewel of my family.’
Alarik stared at him. ‘Obviously.’
Tor curled his lip. ‘Thenwhydid you decide to make her your pet?’
