“What makes more sense, an agent planted by a Great Family or a woman with mysterious powers who wants to help you for no apparent reason? If her magic was real, she would know things nobody else would . . .”
Everard looked at me. “As of now nothing has changed. Colart still loses his life. Matheo dies. The city burns. The kids still fall victim to the war.”
I knew where he was heading. He was reminding me that the Butcher had gotten away, and Solentine had an entire network that could look for him. He was jerking my emotional leash.
“The sooner we climb over this wall, the better,” Everard said. He sounded so much like his Reynald self right now. But that man was a lie.
In this moment I hated him.
Solentine opened his mouth. “As I said—”
“Three Drops of Blood.”
Solentine stopped mid-rant. “What?”
“When you were twelve years old, you were required to spend one month during the summer at your paternal grandfather’s estate. He was a mean old man, and you hated his guts. Your grandfather treasured his grape vines and the wine produced from them. They were the only things he loved in this world. His most prized wine, Three Drops of Blood, came from a one-hundred-twenty-year-old vine, the apple of his eye. That horrible old bastard babied it like it was made of gold.”
Solentine held very still.
“One day he punished you. He whipped you with a cane. The next morning, while everyone was asleep, you slipped out of your room, got an axe, made your way down to the vineyard, and chopped down the vine. You left the axe by it, so there would be no question that it was done deliberately. Then you snuck back into your room and pretended to be asleep. Unfortunately, your ten-year-old cousin found the axe and was discovered holding it. Your grandfather beat him to within an inch of his life. Nearly killed him. From your room, you could hear him screaming and the blows landing. Rumian worshiped you. And you did nothing. You sat in your room with a pillow over your head and you let him endure the worst beating of his life.”
Solentine stared at me, his face stunned. “You can’t know that. Nobody knows that.”
Everard smiled.
“Rumian still worships you. That man will do literally anything for you, and you’ve never told him. You’re a coward.”
Solentine’s hand moved to his knife.
“I was going to warn you soon, but I might as well do it now. After that beating, your aunt Griele arrived and asked your grandfather if he wanted to pick on someone his own size. She put him into sick bed for two weeks. Her swords were always precise. He disowned her, and you and your cousin never had to visit him again. When he died, he left everything to your father, Izarn, who promptly granted the villa and the vineyard to his sister. Griele and your uncle Brune moved in and turned that oppressive house into a warm and happy home.”
The look on his face was priceless. I was telling him family secrets only the closest to the Demarrs could know.
“Brune has been approached by a noble who is trying to get him to invest in a silver mine. In twelve days, he will sign documents putting that stupid vineyard up as collateral for the loan. His thirtieth wedding anniversary is coming up and when he heard the proposal, he thought the mine would be a nice present for his wife because the first gift he had ever given Griele was a silver necklace that she still treasures to this day. Brune married into the family and brought very little wealth with him. He always wanted to contribute.”
That bug-eyed expression he was making was so satisfying.
“The silver mine does not exist. Your family will lose the vineyard that has been its pride and joy for centuries, and you will have to do heinous things to get it back. It will break your uncle. He will never recover from it.”
Solentine opened his mouth and closed it without a word.
That vine incident had made Solentine who he was. It taught him that what he valued most was his family. He felt deep unrelenting shame, and he had sworn that he would never again do anything to harm his loved ones. I had hit him where it hurt.
“You should take a few days and see to it,” Everard said.
Solentine clenched his teeth.
“She is never wrong,” Everard said. “She may be off on dates, but if she says it will come to pass, it will.”
Technically, I’d been wrong quite a bit.
“Go take care of your family, Sol. I’ll stay here.”
“Your word?”
Everard nodded.
“Don’t leave,” Solentine said. “I’m begging you. Stay inside these four walls until I return. Don’t do anything. I will be back before the week’s end.”
