Anders steeled himself. “I already took care of Nikkolas. You are to marryno one elsebut Astrid Bloodstone, I gave Fraleigh the order.”
Ragnar’s smile fell only slightly, as if he had suddenly grown suspicious. “Then let us marry right away. Lycaster needs an heir and the sooner we legitimize our union—”
Ragnar stopped, his eyebrows knitting in confusion as his brother’s low laughter filled the study.
“You really thought this would work?” Anders said. “You thought you could take Mother’s bedtime legends as fact, trap a hapless girl into bearing you an heir, and come for my throne?”
Anders was just as paranoid as Derrick had been.
I waited for Ragnar to offer another explanation, but his silence made me weary.
Finally, he put on a smooth smile and spoke up. “You cannot just assume the worst of me, brother.”
“Oh, I will not assume. In fact, I will give you everything you want.” Anders waved his hand toward the door. “Marry her. Prove your intentions were pure.”
I knew from Ilsa’s memory that Ragnar’s intentions were not pure, but I still hoped that he would deny his brother’s accusation, or offer another explanation, or change his mind.
I held onto hope for the girl in the wheeled chair who painted him on her walls and was certain that he would come back for her.
But for all my hoping, Ragnar’s face hardened. “What are you not telling me?”
Anders laughed again. “Your bastard son is a giant.” He laughed louder as he stepped around his desk. “Try getting Lycaster to rally around you with an abomination for an heir and amadwomanas Duchess!”
Ragnar’s smooth veneer dissolved and he was white with shock. He did not even move as the flash of a blade appeared in his brother’s hand.
“Just as I thought,” Anders said. “I do not need you to keep the House of Hyton strong.”
Quick as lightning, Anders grabbed Ragnar’s long hair and sliced it off with one swing of the knife. Ragnar’s eyes fell to his beautiful white hair as it tumbled to the floor.
Anders pointed the knife to his brother’s chin. “You wanted to be a killer, now you get to be one—forme.You go to the military academy, your mistake stays in that fortress, and the truth of what you did dies with us.”
Ragnar’s face turned cold. “You said you stood with me.”
Anders smiled. “That was beforemyson was born mere hours ago.” He pressed the very tip of the blade into his brother’s chin. “That was before you k-killed o-our…”
Anders clamped his mouth shut. His grip on the knife weakened. Nowhisface was white.
Ragnar’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, Andie. Is the stutter back? What would the Barons think?”
Even I could feel the power shift in the room. Somehow, Ragnar’s towering height became even more obvious.
Before Anders could even blink, Ragnar grabbed his brother’s wrist and twisted the knife free. He snatched the hilt and weighed it, looking down at the blade in consideration as it cut through the gentle starlight from the window. Anders was frozen in horror.
His cold eyes slowly looked up from the blade to his older brother. “Actually, Andie, I think you need me after all.”
What was before me was not mere sibling rivalry, but an Alastar trial that no one else in the Dukedom got to witness. One Hyton brother was made of glass, the other from cold steel. One wore the crown, but the other would have to keep him from shattering.
Especially when the eyes of the Dukedom would never look away.
Suddenly an invisible force pushed on my chest, shoving me toward the door. The spirit behind the memory was insistent that I leave, ashamed of his failure.
Anders had much more than that to be ashamed of.
With a final glare at the two brothers, I shot out of the memory with a crash.
As soon as my mind was back in my body, I sucked in a gasp and collapsed to the floor. I rolled onto my back and my eyes fixed on the ceiling. Ilsa’s Nordingaard crystal weighed heavily on the center of my heaving chest, its white light still shining at the edge of my vision.
The truth of Ilsa was not what would damn the Hytons, it was the truth of herson.
