“You shouldn’t have,” he drawls, cheeks rosy as he eyes Grace over the weapon aimed at my face. The crossbow fires, and my body sings with magic as I snatch the bolt from the air an inch from my nose.
Riot pales and backs up a step, clearing his throat. “Guess the safety was off.”
“Guess so,” I growl.
Grace doubles over in laughter as Master Hull saunters into the kitchen, Riot stepping behind him and using the old man as protection.
“What’s going on in here?” Master asks, eyeing our weapons.
“Just appreciating Grace’s excellent taste,” Riot says, face scrunched in apprehension.
I shake my head at him. “Just our Central station leader failing the basics today, Master.”
Riot’s eyes grow wide in embarrassment.
“It’s nothing, Papa,” Grace says. “Can I serve you lunch?”
“Don’t fuss, I’ll get it,” he says, grabbing a bowl.
Admiring my new blade, I turn to Master at the stove. “Did you get what I asked for?”
“Aye,” he says, setting down his bowl and unclipping a ring of keys from his belt. “Standard sizing and all twenty options we know to exist in the stronghold. Might take you a minute, but I’m confident they’ll open that door.”
“Thank you, Master.”
He grips my shoulder. “You’re welcome, son.”
I swallow the scratch in my throat, thankful for the forgiveness he seems to have given me over Sam’s capture.
“And I’m going with you tonight,” he says, squeezing my shoulder harder.
My eyebrows pinch. “No, you aren’t.”
He pins me with a stern look. “I have a handful of years left at best, and my legacy isnotdying in our fortress overseeing the dead, dusty books and sweaty trainees. I will fight to rescue my own son. And no one will take that from me.”
Fuck. Can’t argue with that.
I swing my attention to Grace. The death of her father puts her in charge.
A tear slides down her cheek. “Papa, I’m not ready to lose you.”
“Lose me?” Master shakes his head. “That’s uncertain. But participating in the opportunity of centuriesiscertain. I want my own chance at that king, too.”
Grace shudders an exhale, like she’s already trying to battle the grief. “Nothing will change your mind?”
“I’m as sure as your mother’s ashes are in the Sereia Sea.”
Grace’s emerald eyes gleam. “I understand.”
I wrap a hand around the back of Grace’s neck, and her beautiful face turns to me. “We should get ready.”
She nods. “Aye.”
Taking Grace’s hand, I lead us down to the basement, where our armor and weapons have been staged so we can dress in private.
“May I adorn you?” she asks softly, eyes skirting to the cabinet at the edge of the room.
I swallow. “I’d be honored.”
