“Can I see them?”
Farmon paused and then glanced at Percy. “It’s for Percival to decide. They’re his parents’ after all.”
Everyone turned to Percy. His jaw worked for a moment, the locket resting against his chest catching the firelight.
“Yeah.” His voice was rough. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, of course. Whatever you need, love.”
Mira’s expression softened. “Thank you, Percy.”
“Just...” He ran a hand through his curls. “Tell me what you find?”
“You’ll be the first.”
Farmon set down his mortar and rose to retrieve the journal. Solomon and I exchanged a glance. His said,she’s planning,which was redundant because Mira was always planning.
Farmon set down his mortar. “Diera’s journal is with our supplies. I’ll retrieve it for you.”
Mira watched him go, then turned to me. “You’re staring.”
“I’m considering.”
“Considering what?”
A woman who’d survived abuse, abandonment, rejection, a hunter compound, a pregnancy that depended on the proximity of three men who’d hurt her, and the revelation that her father was a genocidal zealot, and her response to all of it was to end it with her own hands.
“Whether the kingdom I’m asking you to rule deserves you,” I said.
Her expression softened for exactly one second before the armor clicked back into place. “Don’t get sentimental on me, Your Majesty. It doesn’t suit you.”
The camp dispersed into organized activity. Solomon mapping. Percy scouting. Farmon retrieving. Mira reviewing the notes she’d smuggled from the compound.
Annora found me an hour later.
She appeared at the edge of the clearing where I was reviewing supply inventories, her coat traded for a simpler jacket but her posture still radiating aristocratic arrogance.
“We need to speak privately,” she said.
“We really don’t.”
“The Long Watch is coming, Lucian.” She stepped closer, her voice dropping. “Commander Voss will arrive, he will read his list, and he will execute his orders. You need allies on the council. Real allies. Not a human girl with a dagger and a grudge.”
“Get to the point, Annora.”
“My family controls three of the seven council seats. My father’s influence extends to the Long Watch command structure. One word from me and Mira’s name disappears from that list.” She held my gaze. “An alliance between our houses would give you the council in the palm of your hand. No more vetoes. No more Long Watch deployments you can’t stop.”
“An alliance between our houses,” I repeated. “You mean a marriage.”
“I mean a partnership that benefits both of us. The terms are flexible.”
“The terms involve you on my throne.”
“The terms involve me beside you, where I’ve been trying to stand for longer than your human has been alive.” Her composure cracked, just a fraction, and underneath it I caught what she’d been burying beneath politics for years.
Obsession. The belief that if she was patient enough, persistent enough, polished enough, the king would eventually see what was right in front of him.
“I can soften this for you, Lucian. I can make the council love you again. All I need is for you to let me.”
“Soften me.” The words tasted wrong. “You’ve been trying to soften me for decades, Annora. It hasn’t worked.”
