“Really, really good,” Keith added. “Even for a shifter.”
Iris couldn’t imagine that Simon found that very pleasant. It probably came in handy in his line of work, but all she could think of was how awful and overwhelming it would be to be stuck accidentally eavesdropping all the time. He must hear so many things he didn’t really want to.
“I usually wouldn’t come over and poke my nose in,” Simon said, with a hint of apology in his voice, “but I just wanted to say that if you do need to duel somebody, Keith, I can be your second.”
Keith smiled. “I don’t know if they’ll let me have a tiger.”
“I’ll strap a traffic cone to my head.” He slapped Keith on the arm, treated Iris to a brilliant grin, and then retreated back to the edges of the clearing.
He and Cooper really were keeping a sharp eye on everyone, and Iris was glad that they were there to handle the security and suspicion so she and Keith could concentrate on the actual event. She could already see how much of a difference it could make to Keith to know that his team was always in his corner.
“I like your team,” she said. “I’m glad you have them.”
“I am too.”
“Do you think the Silver Councilwouldlet you have Simon as a second?”
Keith covered his mouth to stifle the chuckle. “If nothing else, I bet they don’t have a formalruleabout it. It might be worth trying.”
“As long as he had the traffic cone.”
Any other jokes dried up as Lord Sinclair strode into the clearing. Everyone moved out of his way, because he was followed by the four youngest Councilors—and the casket they were carrying between them.
Until now, Iris had kept herself distracted. Lord Reginald and Lady Annabelle had certainly helped with that, stirring up a righteous outrage that it was easy to get swept up in. And as long as she and Keith could talk to each other, she could fill her mind up with him.
But this was it. She’d run out of distractions. It was time, and she had to face the awful fact that no matter how beautiful the wildflower-spotted cemetery was, she was here to look at the one part of it that was ugly: the black hole in the ground, the open wound in this green and peaceful place.
Lady Marianne’s empty grave. It wouldn’t be empty for much longer.
She laced her fingers through Keith’s and held on tight.
The hush in the clearing was so loud that it filled Iris’s ears like a kind of roar. She needed it to end.
For the first time in her life, she was grateful to Lord Sinclair, who cleared his throat and punctured the thick, oppressive silence.
“You all know why we are here. This is no private grief, with the greatest pain confined to just a few; it’s a loss we all feel in our bones. At this ceremony, we are all mourners, and we must all be comforters.”
He was, Iris realized with a jolt of surprise, good at this. His words were making a difference to his listeners. She could feel the bristling, suspicious atmosphere start to soften just the tiniest bit.
He had really pulled it together since that moment of shock and confusion on the Council House steps, when she’d had to tell him to go see to his people.
Was Lord Sinclair actually a useful public servant? Could he have been one the whole time, if he hadn’t been so obsessed with preserving the Council’s dignity above all else?
She heard someone take out a handkerchief and quietly blow their nose.
“Lady Marianne devoted her life to our village. She had a passionate belief in our honor and our integrity. In our capacity for change.”
Thatsent out a little ripple of reaction, like a stone skipping across a lake. More than a few people glanced at Iris.
Okay, so much for Lord Sinclair’s personal growth. If he took advantage of this moment to channel the crowd’s heightened emotions, he could turn them on Iris like ravening wolves.
“Some of us,” Lord Sinclair said, “have no doubt wondered if that faith cost our lady her life. We know the circumstances of her death. Surely, in her last hours, she extended her trust to the wrong person—and paid the ultimate price for it.”
Keith’s hand tightened on Iris’s. And even from this distance, she could see the anger clouding Simon’s face. She could see how Cooper’s lips were pressed together into a thin line.
They were all ready to defend her if this went wrong.
Lord Sinclair met her eyes briefly, but he didn’t talk directly to her. Instead, he subtly turned, directing his words at the other Councilors—at Alicia and Reginald and Annabelle and everyone like them.
