“Decades ago, when Sauven was a little shit of seventeen, he thought he could do anything he liked,” Reynald said. “He rampaged through Kair Toren every night, plowing his way through the brothels and drowning in wine. If a man looked at him wrong, he killed him. If he wanted a woman, he took her. He was the treasured crown prince, the favorite child, and nobody dared to call him on it.”
It helped that Sauven had traveled around with a pack of hangers-on eager to do his bidding, and his squad would attack anyone who even coughed in his direction.
“Every year, the royal family hosts the Winter Hunt,” Reynald continued. “The Eight Families always attend. That year, Lorest and Katorna vi Everard came down from the Selva Dukedom with their mother.”
“Lorest was the current Sleepless Duke’s father,” I explained. “And Katorna is his aunt. Back then they were fifteen and fourteen.”
“Sauven saw Katorna and decided he wanted her, so he put his hands on her,” Reynald said. “There was a struggle. She punched Sauven hard enough to blacken his eye.”
“She also kicked his legs out from under him,” I added. “He was embarrassed.”
I hadn’t expected Reynald to know that story. It wasn’t something people talked about.
“Sauven demanded that she be given to him to be punished as he saw fit,” Reynald said. “Lorest told him that Katorna belonged to the Selva Dukedom. In the absence of his father, Lorest was the voice of Selva, and it was his duty to protect its people, so Sauven would need to go through him to get to her.”
He wasn’t explaining the context well. I turned to Kaiden. “Do you know why people call the Selva Dukedom the shield of Rellas?”
“Um . . .” Kaiden blinked.
“Because it shields us from the nations of the northwest and the Crimson Empire,” Clover said.
“Exactly.” I nodded. “Selva lies in the north, bordered by mountain ranges on both sides. It protects the kingdom from foreign invasions, and it’s a big territory, one-fifth of Rellas’s lands. The Everards have ruled it for centuries. Their armies are powerful and skilled, and their magic is devastating on the battlefield. The Savaric royal family can’t afford to openly offend them. When Sauven assaulted Katorna, it wasn’t just him violating her personal boundaries. It became Savaric versus Everard and Rellas versus Selva.”
Reynald speared another small slice of salted not-ham and cut it with surgical precision on his plate. “If Sauven had just apologized, the whole matter could’ve been dismissed as a child’s squabble. But Sauven was used to doing whatever he wanted. Lorest had put his hand on his sword. He was fifteen years old, and at the time he was short and thin. Sauven was seventeen, almost a head taller, and much bigger. He decided he liked those odds. Sauven’s father, the king, saw where it was headed and ordered Sauven to sit down.”
“Did he?” Kaiden asked.
“No. He drew his sword.” Reynald’s smile was devoid of humor. “Which turned the whole mess into a formal challenge.”
Formal challenges were the bedrock of Rellas’s martial culture. No matter how secure the Savarics were on their throne, going against that tradition would knock them right off it.
Kaiden leaned forward. “What happened?”
Reynald took a swallow of his drink. “The challenge was accepted. Lorest hit Sauven in the jaw and knocked him to the ground. While Sauven was trying to find his feet, Lorest ignited his Fatefire and drew a circle around them with his sword. When Sauven staggered up, he found himself in a ring of green flames nobody could cross. And then Lorest beat the shit out of him, while everyone watched.”
“Sauven was bedridden for over a month,” I added. “A part of his soul died in that circle. Until that point, he’d thought he was untouchable. He was a prince, and everyone was his father’s subject. That day he learned that he was mortal and that some people do not bend to the throne of Rellas. He was never the same after that.”
“His hatred of the Everards is like a pet viper he keeps in his heart,” Reynald said. “Once in a while it bites him, and he does witless things to dull the pain.”
Sauven had spent the better part of his life trying to murder Lorest in various schemes. He got his wish in a roundabout way. The Crimson Empire had poisoned Lorest vi Everard about fourteen years ago and Ramond vi Everard became the new duke at sixteen. When Sauven learned about Lorest dying, he was beside himself with happiness. He had ascended the throne by that point, and he summoned the new duke to Kair Toren, expecting a sixteen-year-old boy he could suppress.
Unfortunately for him, Ramond vi Everard was a carbon copy of his father. He’d ridden into Kair Toren in his black armor, on his vicious Andikan stallion, dismounted before the great staircase leading to Eagle Roost, and shot Fatefire in eight different directions, like the rays of a star, to prove his identity. As the green flames burned and colored Ramond’s face, Sauven saw the ghost of his fallen enemy returned to life. He fled into the depths of Eagle Roost, abandoning his court atop that staircase.
“Don’t repeat that to anyone,” I told Kaiden. “Sauven is unhinged, and Everard is a monster. You don’t need to be involved with either.”
“I’m not a baby,” Kaiden told me.
“I know you’re not,” I told him. “That’s why I trusted you with this conversation.”
We ate in silence for a few breaths.
“So, what’s your real name?” Kaiden asked Clover.
Clover raised her chin. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Why?” he asked.
She cut her pancake. “When I was twelve years old, a Maid Mother came to our town and scouted me.”
