King Verdian’s cheeks flushed. This was one of the rare times Larylis had seen the man without his powdered wig. His gray hair was kept close to his scalp, his blue eyes the same shade as his daughter’s. “No one told you to go to Khero, Prince Lexington. If you’d had any sense, you would have kept to Selay’s borders.”
Lex held the king’s gaze without falter. “If you’d had any sense, you would have kept your daughter from sending me on some idiotic quest without aid.”
Larylis was impressed with Lex’s ability to bluff so easily. He supposed it had come in handy when he’d pretended to take the duke’s offer only to escape his guards when they set him up at an inn the first night of their journey. According to Lex, he’d slipped away before dawn and bought a messenger horse to take him to Dermaine.
Only Larylis and his father knew the truth—that Teryn hadn’t been captured by the duke solely because of the Heart’s Hunt but because of his efforts to claim the fugitive princess’ bounty. The three of them had agreed to keep that part of the tale to themselves for the time being. Perhaps it was a bit underhanded to make Verdian think his kingdom was responsible for Teryn’s captivity, but if it gave Menah a respectable place at the council table, Larylis was happy to carry the lie.
King Verdian glared at Lex but seemed to think he wasn’t worth arguing with. Waving a hand, he said, “Selay will not surrender regardless.”
King Arlous rubbed his brow. “If we don’t surrender, Teryn dies. I will not let that happen.”
“Prince Teryn’s fate is contingent upon both kingdoms’ surrender,” added one of Arlous’ councilmen.
Verdian shook his head. “It is not up for debate. We weren’t going to surrender to a mortal king. I’ll be damned before I surrender to a sorcerer.”
“So you’ll have me risk my son? Your daughter’sfiancé?” Arlous pinned Verdian with a hard stare, daring him to contradict the engagement.
Larylis shifted uncomfortably in his seat. With Prince Helios dead and Lex having forfeited, Teryn was the clear winner of the Heart’s Hunt. King Verdian’s guilt over Teryn’s capture had been enough to solidify the betrothal between Teryn and Mareleau. Adding to that was Menah’s shift in fortune. Larylis had learned of their kingdom’s cleared debt in the same letter that had threatened Teryn’s life and summoned his father to Centerpointe Rock. Arlous had been sure to flaunt their financial state as soon as they arrived at Verlot Palace.
Verdian spoke through his teeth. “We would be devastated by Prince Teryn’s loss, should it come to that, but surrender is not on the table. I say we ignore the summons and prepare for war at once.”
Larylis gripped his armrests, forcing his eyes to remain on the table instead of cutting a glare at Verdian. How could he refuse to even consider an option that saved Teryn’s life?
Arlous slammed a fist on the table. “What of my son?”
“What of him?” Lord Kevan spat. “We will not surrender, therefore it is time to speak of our plans for war.”
The table dissolved into a fray of arguments as the kings and councilmen began to talk over each other. Larylis’ head spun, the chatter becoming a tidal wave of sound. He could hardly separate one voice from the other as they clashed with the weight of his own thoughts. Surrender. War. Surrender. War. Larylis wanted neither. All he cared about was getting his brother back. Why wasn’t anyone discussing a solution that involved neither surrender nor Teryn’s death?
Words burned on his tongue. He’d done his best to stay silent during the meeting thus far. His presence here today had already been met with enough scorn from King Verdian’s council. No one wanted to see a bastard born of scandal at their table. But something had cracked in his father’s heart after learning about Teryn’s captivity. Once they’d left for Verlot, he’d refused to let Larylis out of his sight for long.
The arguments rose and crashed against each other, and still, their words remained a jumbled mess in Larylis’ mind. His stomach churned, his blood turning to fire as he fought to stay quiet, stay seated—
“We must get my brother back.”
Silence echoed. It took Larylis several breaths to realize the words had come from him. He stood at the table, his chair flung back behind him. He’d said nothing profound, nothing shocking, and yet the eyes of everyone at the table locked on him. It was only the element of surprise that had drawn their attention.The bastard speaks.
It was better than nothing, he supposed. He might as well make use of the quiet. “We cannot surrender to a blood mage, nor can we let the Crown Prince of Menah die.”
Lord Ulrich scoffed. Larylis may have been his ward once, but the man hadn’t liked him then. It stood to reason he didn’t like him now either. “Do you have some brilliant plan, LordSeralla?” Ulrich enunciated Larylis’ surname as if to remind him of his place.
Lord Kevan turned an amused gaze to Larylis. “I too would like to hear what Lord Seralla’s plan is. Amongst war generals, nobles, and kings, surely a whore’s son knows best.”
King Arlous rose from his seat, a vein pulsing at his temple. “How dare you speak to my son that way!”
Kevan opened his mouth but Verdian held up a hand. “We’ll give the boy one minute to speak,” the king said grudgingly. He seemed more concerned about offending Arlous than defending Larylis. At least Menah’s change of fortune had that benefit.
The eyes of the councilmen burned into Larylis. Now that they’d granted him permission to speak, he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t actually have a plan. Fantasies of vengeance, certainly. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d imagined himself as the heroes in his favorite war novels, or perhaps General Bralish, the famed savior of the Medlon army at the Battle of Delton in 94 Year of the Wolf.
His gaze swept the mocking faces of the men at Verdian’s end of the table. Then his eyes found Lex’s. And his father’s. Arlous gave him a subtle nod.
He released a shaky breath. “We…cannot surrender to a mage.”
Lord Kevan snorted a laugh. “That has been established.”
Larylis opened and closed his fists, a cold sweat breaking out behind his neck. Kevan was right. Larylis was only repeating himself. If he didn’t have anything to add to the conversation, he might as well sit down.
He took a step back toward his chair but his feet refused to take another. This was his chance to be heard. There had to be something he could add to the debate. Clearing his throat, he forced himself to stand a little taller, summoning the side of him that knew how to play it cool under supercilious scrutiny. “We must get Prince Teryn backandrefuse surrender.”
