“You must leave your weapons at the door—”
But it slammed shut, muffling whatever else he planned to say. Silla smiled wide as Rey’s boots thudded on the floor. It was clear his mood was as bright as a thunderstorm, and she must be mad, because she found it positively endearing.
“You don’t need twenty-seven guards beyond your door, Silla, not now that I’m back.”
Her smile spread wider. “I’m glad to see you, too.”
“I—” sputtered Hild, eyes going wide as Rey lumbered closer. “I think that will do.” And then she scurried off.
As Rey stepped into view, Silla understood why the girl had been so eager to leave. Clad in a dark-blue tunic that revealed the halda tattoos coiling up his throat, Rey had folded his thick arms over his chest, and hisaxe eyeswere sharper than Silla had seen in a while.
His expression was so stern, she could not help but laugh. And as Rey’s scowl deepened, warmth spiraled through her. Gods, but she was glad to have him back, even if they’d each been busy with separate tasks throughout the day.
“Quiet, woman,” he muttered. “At least I’m not clad in red this time.”
“We match,” said Silla, smoothing a hand along her gown’s bodice. Midnight blue, it shimmered with golden stitchings of suns and stars and moons. A white fox fur stole hugged her shoulders, and a delicate crown of steel and gold was woven into her hair.
Silla felt Rey’s gaze rake from her toes to the top of her crown. Hild had applied kohl around her eyes and a pigment to her lips. When Silla had stared into the mirror, she’d been dumbstruck. This was a woman of grace and beauty. This wasEisa.She paused for Rey’s reaction, but after a weighted moment, he only looked away.
“What is it?” asked Silla, stepping forward and clasping his hand.
His gaze swung back to hers, torchlight catching the goldenembers in his brown eyes. A muscle in his jaw twitched, as though he chewed on words he did not wish to voice. “It’s only—” He sighed. “—sometimes I wish we could go back to the shield-home, when it was just the two of us.”
She slid her arms around his waist and pulled him into a hug. “I’ve felt the same,” she admitted. “Everything is so…complicatedhere.”
Myrkur stretched, sending new thoughts spiraling through Silla.I’m starting to question my own thoughts and emotions,she wanted to scream.I’m starting to question my ability to know a lie from truth.
Rey eased away from her. “There is much we must speak of before the feast,” he said, clasping her hands in his.
The worry in his voice had Silla’s stomach twisting. She knew Rey had been to the falconry tower to investigate the missing letters, but she’d asked him to look into correspondence from Saga. “Was there word?”
“No word.” Silla’s shoulders slumped as Rey led her to a bench near the hearth. Where was her sister? Had her letters been stolen as well?
Saga is dead,whispered Myrkur.I would sense her if she were in these lands.
“Quiet,” Silla snapped, then cast Rey a guilty look. “He’s…vocal.”
Rey watched her silently, the worry plain on his face. But as Silla made to sit down, Rey’s arms shot out, and he pulled her onto his lap. “Better,” he whispered, sending a warm shiver down her spine. “If He bothers you tonight, you squeeze my hand. I’ll make excuses and whisk you away.”
“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” Silla teased, though her voice came out flat.
“No. In fact, each time the god speaks in your mind, I think of a new creative way I’d make Him pay.”
Useless taunts from a useless mortal,sneered Myrkur, causing Silla to wince.
“I despise that you’ve had to deal with Him alone.” Rey gloweredand pressed on. “I need you to tell me everything that happened in my absence.”
And she did. Silla started with her attempts to find a way to rid herself of Myrkur, and Rey’s expression darkened with each failure—the books, the Weaver, and last of all, Fallgerd.
“Are you certain the old man died at your hand?” he demanded, turning her hands over to examine them. “Did you have any nicks on your palms? What did the blood around his body look like?”
Silla blinked up at him. “I—I did not think to look. I know only the feeling of Myrkur’s satisfaction and the sight of blood on my hands.” She shuddered, and he stroked her spine gently.
“Tell me more.”
She continued on, describing the attempted poisoning and the landslide, and with each word, Rey’s arms tightened around her further. But as Silla detailed the events of the landslide, including her suspicions around her bloodline’s gift and her ability to pull galdur from the halda stones, he blinked in astonishment.
“We must hone this skill,” he said softly, kissing her palm. “I fear you will need it.”
