Speaking of sigils . . . “How come Meriam hasn’t propelled herself through a wall?”
“She sits near none, but even if she managed to prop her throne against one, she knows that Lorcan Ríhbiadh would kill her the second she emerged from this stronghold. And if she dies, so do you.”
“Perhaps someone should inform him that our lives are entwined?” By someone, I mean him.
“Fallon, be realistic. Do you really believe that vulture would give anyone a single breath to explain?”
I bristle at my mate’s poor reputation. “Lorcan is a most patient man, Cato.”
“You’ve obviously not watched him behead an entire battalion of men in a matter of minutes.”
“And you have?”
Cato’s pale face mottles with a blush that’s visible even in the faint torchlight. “I—I—should not speak of such things with you.”
“You really should.”
He drags his hand through his hair, snapping some strands.
“What battalion did my”—I swap the wordmatefor—“kingdecimate?”
“Please, Fallon.”
I cross my arms over my bare midriff, just beneath the knot I tied in my ruined shirt. “You cannot tell me Lore murdered a whole bunch of soldiers then leave me hanging. When? Where? And for what reason? Did they attack him? He wouldn’t hurt anyone who didn’t deserve—” I suck in a breath. “It was the night I was taken, wasn’t it? I saw Dante nod before he shut the cavern door.”
“Fallon . . .” His gaze jerks right, then left. “Shh. You will get me in trouble.”
“For giving me news of happenings up in Luce?”
“Yes. We’re not to speak of the war.”
“War?” I choke out.
Cato’s posture stiffens.
“The war has begun?” My stomach feels as though it’s filled with slush. I untangle my arms and reach out for the wall beside me.
“Yes. We tried peace. Ríhbiadh turned us down.”
I hate that Cato uses the pronounwe. That he would associate himself with Dante’s despotic regime. “I’m certain Lore could see reason if I was to be returned to him.”
Cato balks. “Why in the world would you want to be returned to that monster?”
Because he’s my monster, I think, but Cato wouldn’t understand. He’s evidently been too brainwashed by Dante, to the point where I’m starting to believe he’s down here by choice.
“You’re right. Whyever would I prefer to live freely under a king who respects me, when I can live in captivity under a king intent on exploiting me?”
“Dante made you his queen. It’s a great honor, and unless I’m mistaken, marrying him was a dream of yours.”
“Was. Past tense. Then I saw his true colors.” I add that last part under my breath, in case another soldier lurks nearby and decides to relate my remark to his ruler. “And the only reason he wanted to marry me was to use my magical blood and piss off Lore.”
“You know as well as anyone that royal unions are strategic. The Lucin King seeks an alliance with Shabbe so that when the wards come down, Luce will finally know peace.”
I snort at his warped view of the world. “Shabbins already have allies: the Crows. If Dante exterminates them, all Lucins will know is a life of terror.”
Cato grinds his molars. I hear the low scrape and click of enamel with the same clarity that I can hear my own heart’s furious stampede. “Your grandmother will be so proud once she hears of the union.”
“You think Nonna, who fought so hard to emancipate herself from her husband and his family, would feel pride at seeing me unwillingly married to a man who had his own brother murdered?”
