Keely was looking away because she expected him to renounce her. Expected him to trust everyone else but not her. To take the side of these men, men he could so easily have been one of. And he couldn’t blame her. When had he ever given her any reason to expect his support?
Tor lifted his gaze, looking only at Keely as he spoke. “I trust her. If Keely says she didn’t do it, she didn’t, I don’t care what your truth seeker says.”
Keely’s head whipped back, her eyes rushing to his, mouth falling open slightly. Gods. That proof of how little she expected from him stung. He repeated himself, pouring sincerity into his words, hoping she could hear all the things he wasn’t saying. “I trust her completely.”
Keely took a small, unconscious step forward, but Andred crossed his arms over his chest and spoke before she could say anything. “You’re making a mistake, Tor. This maid and her peevish mistress are a bad choice. Supporting this new queen we’ve been foisted with is an error. None of them can give you what we can.” Andred continued, “We gave you the chance once before, and I’ll give it to you for the last time now. Make your offer of wealth again, bring your strategic skills to support us, and we’ll accept you. I’ll give you a place among the Wraiths. You can help us win this war, and we’ll reward you with power and status like you’ve never imagined.”
Andred didn’t know the first thing about what Tor wanted. Power and status meant nothing to him. But one thing stood out. “What war?” Tor asked slowly.
Andred grinned. “The war for Brythoria. The war to remove Ballanor’s naïve little sister from the throne she should never have been placed upon and take back our rightful place. Ballanor stole from us and ruined the kingdom. It’s time to correct those mistakes.”
Fucking hell. That was what these soldiers were doing. Preparing for a war against their own kingdom.
But it didn’t explain the depth of hatred dripping from Andred’s voice. The Wraiths were Ballanor’s personal squad and Andred had been one of Ballanor’s favorites. What were they even doing out here, hiding in the mountains and recruiting Verturians?
“It was you.” Keely’s rough whisper cut into the quiet tent.
Andred didn’t even flinch. Not a flicker of surprise crossed his face.
And then, with sudden, horrific clarity, Tor understood. The arrows, the dispossessed men, the war camp, the missing cavalry unit—it all suddenly came together, and the words tore out of him. “Gods.Youare the traitors of Ravenstone.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Why?”It came out as a whisper. Keely cleared her throat and tried again. “Why did you do it? Why would you kill your king?”
Tor’s face was pale despite his olive skin as he answered for Andred. “For money. Ballanor would have promised riches and power. And some men… some men like war.”
Bard. Her hands were shaking, and she gripped them tightly together over her belly. Tor had lost his king, his position in the Blues, and his family because of Ravenstone. Val had been tortured without mercy. Alanna had been imprisoned and nearly died. Nim attacked. All because Ballanor wanted to be king and Andred wanted to be rich.
She stepped forward, ignoring Andred’s snarl. “That’s why you want Alanna, isn’t it? You want to prevent the treaty… you want Lucilla isolated when you attack.”
Andred shrugged, still looking at Tor. “This is our chance. We can make this kingdom what it should have been.”
Tor recoiled. “How the fuck did Ravenstone make our kingdom any better?”
“We couldn’t let the treaty go ahead; Ballanor was always right about that. We fought too long and too hard to just walk away. Our kingdom, our wealth, all our resources have been dedicated to the war. Geraint expected us to put down our swords and walk away like it was nothing, but Ballanor promised to cancel the treaty and finally win the war. To finally get us access to the Verturian mines.”
Tor wrapped a heavy hand around the back of his neck, his jaw clenching. “Was it worth it, Andred? To see King Geraint, your king, falling in a pool of his own blood. Men you’d fought beside screaming and dying as you shot them down. I lost… fuck….”
“No, it was not bloody worth it,” Andred growled, gesturing to the camp outside. “Does it look worth it to you?”
Bard. “Ballanor betrayed you.” Keely’s words were low, but everyone heard them.
“Ballanor was a useless child who had no understanding of how to be a king,” Andred growled. “If he had kept his faith, we would have stood beside him, protected him, and he would still be alive today.”
Caius and Usna grunted their agreement as Andred continued, “It no longer matters. Ballanor set us free. Now we’ll make our own way.”
“With more death. More destruction,” Tor said quietly, grief etched in the lines bracketing his mouth and the heavy furrows on his brow.
Despite everything he’d said, despite her hurt and confusion, his pain stabbed at her. She wanted to go to him, stand beside him and show him that he was not alone.
Keely blinked slowly. Tor had been hurt too. And he had still followed her. He was risking his life for her.
Andred looked between them, face set in a formidable frown. “Choose a side, Tor. Us or her. Wealth and power—and the chance to set the kingdom right—or a bunch of useless women we will never allow you to serve.”
“That’s easy.” Tor looked at her, eyes soft, and she knew exactly what he was going to say.
Fear rushed through her in a torrent, her heart thudding heavily in her ears. Tor was going to choose her and Andred would kill him for it.
