A stone heavier than the ones in the ground dropped in my stomach. Nikkolas pointed to the next stone in line. “My second son, not caring that Bloodstone was his responsibility after his brother died, ran to the West of the Moon and East of the Sun too. His wife isburied there.”
My eyes fixed on the headstone and my handswent cold.
“I ran out of sons, so I had to invest our magical little gift from the mountain as my heir. That massive bastard is the very last ofmy blood.”
Nikkolas turned to me, his expression dark and serious. “You are Bloodstone’s last hope. At first I thought my grandson succumbed to the curse that caused all my heirs to make moronic decisions when I saw he chose a tiny bride, but then I realized a smart girl like you can crack a nut like him. You can give Bloodstone the heirit needs.”
My hands locked in front of my belly. “I understand the situation. The House of Ravenwood lost its sons and now my father is charged with high treason. The Duke could take Ravenwood atany moment.”
“My, my,” Nikkolas said with an amused smile. “Could you imagine Duke Hyton with direct control of both the magic and mystery of Ravenwood and Bloodstone? Oh, it would be catastrophic. Good thing I would not be around tosee it.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I know you want to secure Bloodstone’s future and that we have a time limit, but I promise Iam trying.”
“Bah, a promise,” Nikkolas scoffed. “Useless words that give me nothing. Unless you want the Hytons to gain unimaginable power from Nordingaard’s magic, you are going to have to do more thanjust try.”
“What do you want me to do, Nikkolas?” I snapped. “Take off his pants and jump on him as soon as I seehim next?”
Nikkolas raised his eyebrows. “My, you really are Adalia’s daughter. But, sure. And take care not to destroy my tower again,would you?”
I clenched my fists as Nikkolas suddenly walked away. Not wanting to be left alone in the eerie graveyard, I begrudgingly followed him down the dirt path for a few paces before Nikkolas spoke again. “Do you know what the biggest difference is between the Barons of the Northern provinces and the Dukeof Lycaster?”
“No,” I huffed, “not other than havingmore riches.”
Nikkolas smiled down at me and took a breath. “Wereallylove our wives. The Hytons cannot understand love like we do. They do not love,they consume.”
The left side of my neck burned and I glanced down at thedirt path.
“As…unbearableas my grandson is,” Nikkolas said with distaste, “I have a crumb of faith that the two of you can work. Hilda and I did,after all.”
If Hilda was the rosy dawn, Nikkolas was the cool twilight—complete opposites, and yet their love for each other all but radiated off of them. However, their only struggle was a personality difference. Nikkolas could not crush Hildato death.
I hugged my arms and looked up at Nikkolas’s hard face. “Riyan and I are rather…mismatched. But you really think we can make it as Baronand Baroness?”
“You have to.” His face darkened. “If not, both Bloodstone and Ravenwood will eventually fall to the Hytons. Theycannothave access to our magic—not after what happened to Ilsa Ravenwood. The Hytonsare monsters.”
I hopped over a large stone in my path but looked back at Nikkolas. “What do you mean what happenedto Ilsa?”
Nikkolas’s eyes gleamed like patinated silver as we stepped into the sunlight again. “Even the Duchess herself could not escape the prejudice of being from a Northern province. When she was loved, she was a diamond. When she was envied, she was a half-giant. When someone needed to take the blame for a Duke’s murder, she wasa sorceress.”
The walls of the fortress came into view. Was Nikkolas really saying Ilsawas not…?
“Ilsa was no sorceress,” Nikkolas said with a smile that was as friendly as the snarling golden bear pinned to his cape. “She did not havethe gift.”
The gift? Before I could ask, a commotion near the gate stoleour attention.
“I must speak with the Baron, by order of the Duke!” cried afamiliar voice.
My heart nearly leaped out of my chest. I picked up my skirt and quickened my pace. Three Bloodstone soldiers blocked the entrance to the fortress where a silver-haired man stood. The man was alone, disheveled, and holding the reins of a tiredbrown horse.
“Father!” I cried. I could not believe it—Duke Hyton had pardoned him. He was safe and sowas Mother.
Father’s dark eyes warmed as I ran to him. I stood in front of him and smoothed the front of my skirt, looking as much of the future Baroness asI could.
Father opened his mouth to say something, but his eyes flicked above my head and narrowed. “An army, Baron? That would have been useful sevenyears ago.”
I turned around. Nikkolas calmly walked toward us with his mouth in a tight line. “Baron Ravenwood, to what do we owethe pleasure?”
Father snorted. I whipped my head around to find a smirk on Father’s mouth and pain in his eyes. “There is noBaron Ravenwood.”
