A slow smirk reshapes his lips. “I bet you are.”
“I can paint a sigil to make it better.” He huffs a laugh but turns somber when I point out, “As long as you wear your necklace, no one can harm you. Not your sister. Not your niece. Not a band of vicious monarchy-haters. Not even me.”
He parts his lips but his reply is usurped by loud knocking.
“Kostya!” Salom’s loud timbre shivers the door. “We’ve got a situation.”
38
ISLA
“I’ll see you at supper,” he murmurs as he helps me to my feet, his tone as ravaged by nerves as his expression.
“Mind if I stay?”
He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my hoop before trailing down the side of my throat. “Of course not.”
I spear my fingers through his. “For better or for worse, right?”
He brings his forehead down to mine. “However much I appreciate having you at my side, the burden of the worst isn’t yours to bear.”
“We might not have exchanged any vows, but that doesn’t make me any less your ally and friend.”
“Ally and friend, huh?”
I smile. “With benefits.”
He stares long and hard at me again, his jaw working over words he never ends up pronouncing. Palms flush, he leads me toward a door that he unseals with his magic and which leads straight into the Throne Room. Voices are high. I distinguish Salom’s, but none of the others are familiar.
Nevertheless, the instant we step around the staircase, I recognize the faces attached to the unfamiliar voices: Lev’s parents. Their faces are as pale as the abounding stone, their eyes rimmed so red that their matching russet irises glow crimson, like those vampires from the Countess’s stories. Our irruption dials down the volume of the argument being had.
“Ekaterina, Bohdan, what brings you to my home?” Konstantin asks.
Lev’s mother—Ekaterina—glowers at me, her eyes reflective with tears. “Why isshehere?”
“Sheis my mate.” Konstantin squares his shoulders and pulls me closer. “Where else do you expect her to be other than at my side?”
“Her presence might prove providential, Kat,” Bohdan murmurs.
My brow quirks at his odd comment but then flattens when he finishes his thought.
“She can relay to her father what has happened”—his gaze lands on Salom—“who’ll mete out justice, if justice is forbidden to us.”
“Instead of underhanded slights, why don’t you explain what brings the two of you to my home?” Konstantin snaps.
Fresh tears course down Ekaterina’s pallid cheeks. “Salom just murdered our son!”
My attention vaults onto the blond general, who’s throttling the hilt of his sword.
“I did not murder Lev,” he grits out.
My ears begin to hum. Lev is dead?
“Start from the beginning.” Konstantin’s voice is low but no less resonant.
Salom purses his lips as though to contain his frustration at having to explain himself. “Our soldiers seized a sleigh full ofexplosives and shotguns in the human district of Voshna. The deliverymen confirmed the transaction was carried out by Lev.”
“They lied!” Lev’s mother grinds her fingers through her hair, her multitude of rings sailing like chiseled orbs of fire through her brown locks. “My son might’ve been worried about the company’s finances, but he would never have risked his life—or our reputation—for coin!”
