“Oh, he most certainly did,” Nash said, jerking his head in a quick nod. “It was his legacy money. He wasn’t about to let it slip away.”
Drustan straightened, his expression dark. “It wasn’t just about the money. It was about reclaiming what was stolen. The Glodwoods betrayed him. And they paid for it.”
“With their lives?” Mistel said. “That’s a rather brutal way to settle a debt.”
Drustan’s lips curled into a slow smile. “Justice isn’t always clean, Miss Wepp. Sometimes it takes blood to balance the scales.”
Nash grunted, his gaze flat. “Spoken like a man on Fenris’s payroll.”
“Spoken like a boy who hides behind his father’s name,” Drustan countered.
Mistel glanced between them, heart racing. Were these two friends or enemies?
“We passed the remains of that place on the way here,” Cole said. “It’s completely gone.”
“A warning to anyone who crosses Sir Fenris Yarden,” Drustan said.
Mistel’s stomach churned. Glodwood Manor…That was where the Poroo had attacked, where Cole had spirited her into the trees. Time for a lighter subject. She turned to Nash. “Why do so many people buy boar?”
Nash chuckled. “They’re delicious, but people buy them to hunt.”
How peculiar. “Why hunt something you already own?”
Drustan fixed his dark gaze on Mistel. “For the thrill of the chase.”
She fought back a shiver and looked away from that callous hunx.
“Ever go hunting?” Nash asked.
Mistel shook her head, searching for a way to steer the conversation back to the Black Boar—or maybe Ice Island. “I could never kill an animal. The three of us”—she gestured to Cole and Kurtz—“we’re focused on making a living…and visiting Ice Island.”
Nash’s grin faded. “That’s a prison, not a tourist destination.”
“Oh, I know.” Mistel kept her tone breezy. “But Cole needs to see his uncle.”
“Your uncle works there?” Nash asked.
Cole’s jaw tightened. “No. He’s a prisoner.”
Drustan cackled, his eyes glittering in the candlelight. “Your only living relative is incarcerated? Perfect.” He winked at Mistel.
Gracious! That was rude. And why would he wink about Cole’s uncle being in prison? Or was he simply winking at Mistel? She shot him a glare and turned back to Nash. “There must be a way we could visit.”
“Ice Island doesn’t allow visitors,” Drustan said.
“That’s not entirely true.” Nash draped his elbow over the back of his chair, angling his body to face Mistel. “I can get you in. I’ll speak to Verdot Amal about it.”
Mistel fought the urge to squeal and gave Nash a bright smile. “That’s so kind of you.”
They lingered another hour, Mistel feigning interest in Nash’s boasts while steering attention away from Drustan’s jabs at Cole. When they finally left, she welcomed the cold night air. Its bite was a relief from the suffocating tension of that dining room.
As they rode away from the manor, Mistel and Cole followed Kurtz and Zanna. The setting sun cast a dusky golden glow over everything.
“You were amazing tonight,” Cole told her. “You asked all the right questions.”
“So did you,” Mistel said.
He laughed. “I tried. You succeeded. You’re important to this mission, Mistel. I’m really glad you came.”
