“We’ll accept it and leave you to your glorious dawn,” Tennet announces, the heavy brogue of his voice bouncing off the walls of the courtyard. “But we’re taking my wife back with us.”
Chapter 4
Tennet’s words bang around in my head like hail pounding in an ice storm, but I haven’t come so far, or faced so much loss, to back down now.
“I’m sure we can arrange that, Lord Tennet.” I angle in my seat and stare at the man, my words disrupting the sudden silence that’s marked only by the quiet struggle of Caleb swallowing his tongue. “If you’ve come to find a wife, I’m sure there are any number of women in Trilion who would gladly take you up on that offer.”
He clasps his hands over the pommel of his saddle, holding his reins loosely. “Fortunately, my choice is already made. Talia of the Tenth.”
I bare my teeth at him. “What a tragedy that she no longer exists.”
“Lord Tennet, Lady Talia,” Fortiss cuts in, with such force to his voice that my blood seizes in my veins. I glance toward him, startled, and sense Tennet’s gaze jerk from me to focus on Fortiss as well. Once again, our new lord protector looks the same as he did when I saw him last, not even a full day ago, but something has definitely changed.
Is it a good change, though? Or does the danger that seems to unfurl like an invisible cloak around Fortiss threaten more than it protects? I’ve thrown my lot in with his leadership, sought to preserve and nurture the tiny flame of connection that sparked between us…but do I truly know this man?
Oblivious to my concern, Fortiss charges on. “We are blessed to be able to welcome our guests with a household still flush with wine and ale from the tournament, never mind that it was a month ago. We welcome you and your men, Lord Tennet. Let’s get you off your horses. Tonight’s banquet will be a happy event, and you’ll be pleased that some warriors of the houses remain to hear your stories and share their own. It’s been some time since we’ve celebrated a first-blooded son of the Twelfth House at our table. Welcome.”
At this last, he gestures to no one in particular, but clearly, it’s a symbol that’s been eagerly awaited. A tumble of five stable hands burst from the gates of the outer bailey, dashing across the courtyard to assist the riders. I swing off Darkwing before Tennet can dismount, leaving him to glower at me as Caleb deftly slides off his mare. I start to hand over my reins to Caleb—then check the movement and grimace.
He’s no more a servant than I am. Not ever again.
Before he can stop me, I signal one of the stable hands over. I first hand him my reins, then pull Caleb’s out of his right hand.
Caleb flinches back. “I can take care of her,” he informs me, his eyes wide with surprise. As comfortable as he is with his new position as warrior when it involves his mighty Divh, he’s nowhere near at ease with the idea of being treated as one. Well, he’d better get used to it. He’ll be expected to attend tonight’s dinner, even if he is lucky enough to be able to sit with Nazar and not at the high table.
There’s been no call for feasting in the wake of the tournament, not with so many warriors injured and too manydead. We’ve also been grappling with the grim reality of Lord Rihad held in private chambers, awaiting the arrival of the Imperium. The former lord protector’s plan to devastate the army of Divhs and leave the Protectorate crippled surely merits swift and harsh justice, but it isn’t justice for us to mete out, but an agent of the Imperator.
Would that one sees fit to come all this way.
“If you wish.” I shrug and gesture to where the stable hand is walking Darkwing toward the stables. My stallion still has his ears laid back. “We can follow them and make sure he doesn’t bite anyone.”
Caleb shoots me a lopsided grin. “Him or you?”
“I’m glad you’re having such a good time with all this.”
“I mean, you have to admit, it’s entertaining.” He glances back to where Tennet has finally decided to dismount, and I follow his gaze to assess Lord Orlof’s son anew. His stiff stance is evidence either of his long ride through the mountains or, I suspect, a stick as wide as a club driven right up his?—
“You know, you don’t really have a face for gambling.”
I jerk my gaze back to Caleb, and he chuckles, which does nothing to improve my mood. We’ve moved far enough away from the Twelfth House group that he continues in a low voice, the two of us maneuvering his mare toward the far end of the stables. She doesn’t need to be stabled near Tennet’s horses, especially if they’re as foul-tempered as he is.
My temper has definitely soured as well. I feel trapped, hemmed in, flanked by the subtle and strangely powerful Fortiss on one side, and the bristling, bull-headed Tennet on the other. And I’ve come too far since leaving my father’s house, endured too much, to ever allow myself to be trapped again.
I slant a glance toward Caleb. “You’ve never heard of Orlof having an older son?”
“That would be a definite no,” he confirmed. “Then again, news on the ground about the Twelfth House was as scarce as it was about the Tenth. I knew about Merritt, and that Lord Lemille had had other daughters besides his son, but there definitely was no mention of the fact that the Tenth House’s firstborn child was a female, and that she was a full four years ahead of her brother, not a year his junior.”
“Yes, but there was a good reason for that level of secrecy. I shouldn’t have been allowed to live as a firstborn daughter. It was only the pleading of my mother and my father’s fear of offending the Light that he suffered me to stay alive until she got pregnant again, two years after I was born. And then my father was so certain that he would have a son that he announced plans for my death to her in exacting detail while he thought she was sleeping. She miscarried that same night.”
“What?” Caleb chokes.
I grimace, but the story rushes out, as if I’d held it for so long, another moment was simply too much. “She certainly didn’t want the miscarriage to happen—she was devastated by it. But she also never betrayed that she was awake the whole time during his hateful screed. Either way, he was sufficiently superstitious afterwards that it served to spare my life another few years.”
Caleb stares at me, horrified. “I had no idea.”
“Well, there had to be some reason why they waited another four years after that to try again. My father wasn’t faithful to my mother during that time, of course. If he’d been able to have a male child by another means he would have done so. But finally, my mother grew afraid for my safety once again and approached him with all the trappings of a woman blessed by the Light itself. She said she had a vision that he would be blessed with the success of a baby boy if he would lay with her and preserve his firstborn child despite the mistake of my birth. He did soeagerly, and nine months later, my brother was born. I was nearly four by then, and already no fool. I understood that no matter what, there would be a boy born to my father. It was the only way my mother could ensure my safety.”
“But how could she guarantee such a thing?” Caleb asks, with the wrinkled brow of an innocent. “Especially if all he’d been producing was girls up to that point.”
