I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I hadn’t taken King Rikard to be dim. “How can he be so certain?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Face taut with frustration, he dragged a hand through his hair, leaving it disheveled. “He’s not been the most forthcoming on this matter. It took a great deal of effort to convince him to quietly ready our forces should a threat to the kingdom surface.”
As though he couldn’t stand the long silence that followed, Tarben said, “I can’t imagine what you must think of him, but please don’t judge him too harshly. He’s acting in what he believes to be the best interest of his kingdom.”
I didn’t know who he was trying to convince—me or himself. Regardless, it was clearly a sore spot for him. I wouldn’t press on it any further. It made no impact on the bargain I’d made with the Crow, so why should I care what Solvardunn did?
Instead, I took a long drink from my mug, mind too occupied to notice how foul it tasted. “Are the Velcarin aware of what’s happening? Across Anerdor?”
Magnus snorted and took a sip of his own ale. “Oh, they’d know alright. Haven’t lifted a finger to help, of course. I imagine the Elves are happy left tending to their enchanted woods, the Sylphs and the Fae are probably too busy squabbling amongst themselves to get involved, and the Mer? Well, they’re a lost cause, aren’t they?”
I sat up straighter. “Why do you say the Mer are a lostcause?” I asked, keeping my tone casual even though tension rippled throughout my body.
“Shehasbeen living under a rock!” he cried, earning himself an elbow in the ribs from Tarben.
“I mean, aside from the obvious,” I said, taking a gamble and hoping I wasn’t about to show my hand.
“Aside from the fact that they’ve been cursed to remain in Vantillios for the past two decades?” he said, rubbing his ribs. “And even if they weren’t, they wouldn’t concern themselves with the likes of us lowly mortals.”
Well, he wasn’t wrong. I couldn’t imagine my grandmother inserting herself into a mortal conflict. I was treading on dangerous territory, very dangerous… but I had to ask. “What do you know of the curse?”
Tarben lifted a shoulder. “Not much. One of their kind made a bargain with a witch. They didn’t keep to their end of the bargain so the witch cursed them all to an existence bound to their kingdom. No one gets in or out.”
Magnus snorted again. “Good riddance! It means one less kingdom of Velcarin for us to worry about.”
I bristled. “Why should you be worried about them? They keep to themselves, don’t they?”
Magnus slammed his empty mug on the table, and loudly declared, “Another, sweetheart,” to the barmaid across the room. Turning his focus back on me, he said, “You can’t trust a Velcarin. Arrogant bastards. You never know when they’ll decide that they miss the days when mortals bowed to them. They’ll invade Anerdor again—colonizing, killing, taking mortal slaves. Mark my words.”
With tremendous restraint, I held back the angry hiss that threatened to unleash itself. Not only were his accusations baseless, but, given Orradon’s troubled history, they were also careless. “You sound paranoid,” I said with a fake laugh. “Timesare different now. He’s long gone.”
“Doesn’t mean they won’t do it again. They get easily bored, the long-lived,” Magnus condescended.
Under the table, my nails dug into my palms, but I maintained my outward composure. Thank the goddesses for my court training. “You speak as if you’ve met one before.”
“No, I haven’t,” he said, leaning back as a fresh mug of ale was placed in front of him. “But if I did, I’d stick my silver yew stake straight through its heart. You know what they say: the only good Velcarin is a dead Velcarin.”
Every part of me was fighting the urge to snarl and show him exactly how dangerous Velcarin could be.
“Magnus,” Tarben scolded. “Don’t say things like that, you callous bastard.”
Magnus only laughed, but his laughter soon turned into a string of curse words as his entire mug of ale tipped over and spilled across the front of his pants.
I fought hard not to laugh along with everyone else who had witnessed theaccident. Instead, I said, with fake concern, “Oh dear Magnus, perhaps you’ve had one too many.”
His answering glower delighted me. He muttered something about only having three drinks, but I was barely listening. I took a long, slow sip of my remaining ale. Suddenly, it tasted quite sweet.
Yes, I knewexactlyhow to handle an arrogant male.
Chapter 16
The sun had begun to set by the time we arrived outside the castle stables, transforming the sky into a dreamscape of blended butterscotch and blue. Mesmerized, I gawked at its sublime beauty.
“Alara?”
The sound of my name drew me out of my captivation. I blinked at the prince standing beside his horse, looking at me expectantly. “What was that?”
He chuckled. “I asked if you needed a hand getting down.”
