“Watch his back.”
Halla nodded. “Where are you going?”
“Where I’m needed.”
Arms akimbo, she stared at him in a pique. “You don’t really expect me to tell him that, do you?”
“You’re his court jester. Make it humorous.”
“Humorous? He’s likely to spear me for it.”
Ryper winked at her. “Better you than me.”
She mocked him under her breath as she skittered toward the nearest window.
Ryper waited for Halla to leave then used his powers to preserve Renata’s body and seal the room closed so that no one could enter it and find out what had happened to the princess.
Damn me. He’d known something was wrong. Had felt it the moment he woke up, which was why he’d been searching the palace when he happened upon Halla.
Ever since he’d first met Dash when they were boys in Meara’s court, they’d had an unholy, natural connection. He always knew whenever Dash was in trouble or needed him. It was a connection that had concerned some and pissed off others.
Not that it mattered. As a bastard halfling, Ryper had done his best to avoid being around others. The last thing he wanted was Dash’s throne and the headache that came with it. Watching out for those who wanted to kill you for your crown. The ones scheming against you at every moment.
Life was too short for that kind of drama. Ryper preferred keeping his head low. Killing whatever annoyed him and having no responsibilities for vassals or others.
His father had never wanted him, and he was fine with that. His mother had only wanted to stifle and suffocate him. If she had her way, she’d still be breastfeeding him her venom.
While he appreciated her love, Dash was all the family he needed. It was why he’d kill or die for his High King, and why he’d mostly killed for him.
No one else held his loyalty, and never would.
No one else was worth it.
Clutching at his baldric that held the two swords he was famous for wielding, Ryper headed for the crow’s nest in the upper west wing of the palace. He hated to wake Chrysis this early in the morning.
As much as she despised the daylight, she should have been an owl instead of a crow.
Set on the farthest western tower of the palace, her elaborate nest was designed to stay shaded throughout the daytime hours. A courtesy Dash had afforded his longtime friend who often carried messages for him to other kingdoms and their representatives and monarchs.
And just as expected, Ryper found Chrysis curled up, asleep, with her beak tucked beneath an ebony wing.
“Chrys?”
She didn’t so much as flinch. “Go away.”
He poked at her head. “Can’t do that.”
“Hate you, Ryper. Go away.”
“C’mon, Chrys. I need you.”
She opened one black eye to glare at him. “I need you to go away.”
Snorting, he jostled her nest.
Ruffling her feathers, she squawked and rose up, then spread her wings wide. “You are aware that crows hold grudges better than anyone, are you not?”
“Very much so. But you hate me already. Nothing to lose.”
