“Understood.”
“Speaking of your father and his harem, I confess that I thought you mad to give that up for one woman, and a woman you have to bow to, no less.” William reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a flask, sipping from it. “It seems a perfect situation, because if one annoys you, you can bed another. If they all annoy you, you can marry someone new.”
Keris took the flask as William passed it over, feigning drinking as he considered what response would best entice the king to reveal useful information. “I wanted nothing to do with anything I associated with my father. I hated him, and I wanted to erase every aspect of himfrom my existence. He spent my entire life trying to make me into a certain sort of man, and I was never good enough in his eyes compared with my brothers. Dismantling everything that mattered to him brought a certain pleasure.”
William was silent, and from the corner of his eye, Keris saw that the king’s expression had gone slack, his gaze distant as though he was lost in memory. “I understand that feeling better than you know. I fucking hated my father. He put James on a goddamned pedestal, and nothing I ever did was good enough.”
“As though soldiering were the sum of a man’s worth.”
William turned to look at him, his expression intent. “Right? Anyone can swing a sword, but it takes a certain caliber of man to succeed at politics. Ruling Harendell is something that happens in the courts and it takes the sharpest sort of mind, but my father acted as though James was a paragon for tussling in the mud in the Lowlands. Which isn’t even a real war—just back-and-forth skirmishes with Carlo, like two children fighting over a toy. James is terrible at court—it’s almost laughable how stilted he is.”
“I was under the impression you two were close.”
William sighed and toyed with the reins. “In a manner of speaking. We’re nothing alike, but James is loyal. He’s defended me since we were children, and other than my mother, he’s the only one who stood up for me against our father.”
“My brother Otis was the same way.”
“He’s the one you killed.”
Keris flinched at the memory, covering it up by taking an actual drink from William’s flask.
“Why did you kill him? The spies never got a clear answer—the inner sanctum was always a difficult nut to crack.”
These were all memories that he wanted to keep buried, but for the sake of knowing his opponent, Keris dug them up. “Zarrah was my father’s prisoner. Otis learned that we were together, and he attacked her.”
“So you killed him to protect your woman?”
Memory of that night filled Keris’s mind, but he found it increasingly difficult to remember exactly what he’d been thinking in that moment.It was an accident,he reminded himself, even as his conscience asked,Was it?“Something like that,” he finally said. “But I don’t relish it.”
William gave a sympathetic nod. “James was only able to intervene in my father’s abuse of me because he valued James so much. So even though he was defending me, the reason he was able to do so made me want to shove him off the Sky Palace more than once. If James…” Harendell’s king trailed off as Cavendish moved within earshot, rolling his shoulders as though to cast off an uncomfortable thought. “This pace grinds on my nerves, Veliant. You ride well enough—fancy a gallop?”
“A race?”
William’s eyes lit up. “Ah, yes! Let’s make a match of it!”
“With respect, Your Grace, I must advise against it.” Cavendish had pressed closer, looking ready to grab William’s reins. “These are dark days and your life is not safe, even this close to Verwyrd.”
“Fuck off, Georgie.” William pulled a foot from his stirrup and kicked at the other man’s horse, the animal moving out of range. “I’m bored, and Keris has a reputation for liking fast things. Let’s make this a proper matchup between Harendell and Maridrina. Ashford against Veliant, with pride as the stakes. There are two white pillars outside the western bridge town. First man across wins, that suit?”
“Rules?”
William made a rude noise. “No rules in off-track racing.”
“Your Highness,” Saam said, moving to cut off Keris. “This is not wise. The roads are muddy and—”
“Go!” William shouted, and Keris dug in his heels.
The wind howled through the trees as Keris leaned low over his mare’s neck, his pulse thrumming in time with her pounding hooves. The forest trail ahead twisted and dipped unpredictably, the scent ofmud thick on the air as his horse splashed through the puddles. Keris’s hands were steady on the reins, his focus razor-sharp. Behind him, the relentless drumming of hooves told him that William was hot on his heels.
Let him win. The smart choice is to let him win.
But when had he ever done the smart thing?
Keris yanked hard on the reins and cut left, veering off the beaten path. His mare lurched through the undergrowth, branches snapping against his boots, the rough slap of leaves stinging his arms. He barely had time to see the low-hanging branch ahead before instinct took over—he ducked, flattening against his mare’s neck as the gnarled limb scraped just above his back.
A sharp burst of laughter—half exhilaration, half defiance—escaped his lips, because it felt like eternity since he’d ridden like this.
The ground dipped suddenly beneath them. Keris clenched his thighs, steadying himself as his mare stumbled for half a heartbeat before finding her stride again. Only for a fallen tree to appear ahead, its bark slick with moss. There was no easy way around.
