Freya shoved the cup back in my hands and gave me a wink. “Made by the Viper, the best potion maker in Lycaster.”
Nothing made by someone named “the Viper” seemed trustworthy, but Freya still upended the rest of the vial into her own cup. “All right, ask. Which one of you is braver?”
Brietta cut me a fearful glance. I supposed the brave one was me.
My hands trembled slightly as I poured my tea. “Did…the former Duchess really murder Alastar the Wise?”
“Might have.” Freya took a loud slurp from her teacup. “She only loved her Little Diamond.”
Little Diamond? “Did she have some jewelry that she was fond of?”
Freya snorted. “Yes, but that is not what I am referring to. The entire Dukedom called Ragnar the ‘Little Diamond’ because he was so damn pretty.”
I bit my tongue to keep from smiling. General Hyton was handsome, sure, but I could not imagine anyone considering him pretty…or little.
Freya rested her cheek on her fist. “Ilsa had iced Derrick out from the beginning. I cannot imagine why.”
I furrowed my brows just as Brietta piped up, “Derrick?”
“Alastar Derrick Pervale Hyton, yes,” Freya slurred, emphasizing every part of the name. “I named my Midnight after the best damn Duke that Lycaster ever had.”
Midnight? She usedmyDerrick’s secret name too?
Freya hiccupped and smacked her fist on the table. “And yes, I do include the Conqueror in that statement!”
No one ever dared to say Alastar the Conqueror was anything less than wondrous. He founded the Dukedom, reigned for sixty-five years, and became a legend. All of his mighty accomplishments flooded to the front of my mind as if I were about to write yet another exam at Ashmore.
Freya lazily stirred her tea. “When everyone else saw me as just the vessel of a potential heir, Derrick saw a brilliant mind. We read together. Played table top games. Discussed new ideas. I was the daughter he never got to have.”
She sniffed and raised her spoon, watching intently as droplets of tea dripped back into the cup. “But even I can admit he had a monster in him, all the Dukes do. ‘Spirit of the Conqueror,’ and all that.”
Alastar was not a true name but a title, traditionally earned in a series of trials to determine who would be the next Duke of Lycaster. Whoever won had the “spirit of the Conqueror” and would become the Alastar.
The spirit of the Conqueror was merely an idea that defined what it meant to be an “Alastar,” but Freya described it as if it were a living, breathing thing.
Drunk old fool.
I took a sip of the foul tea out of politeness, though I wished Freya would steer the conversation back to Ilsa. How was learning about a dead Duke going to help us?
Brietta huffed out a breath. “I never understood the ‘spirit of the Conqueror’ idea. Why should our next ruler be determined by who could perform the best feats of strength in an arena? Alastar the Steadfast was right to end them.”
The Alastar trials might have ended, but the Hyton peasants still craved entertainment. Heaston filled in the gap, creating a Spring Exhibition where the noble boys would show off their dueling skills. I only remembered the history because Endre had talked about the Spring Exhibition all the time—he was certain he would duel circles around the entire school once he was old enough to compete.
I had no idea Brietta had paid so much attention in history lessons. Maybe she really was scribbling notes instead of lines of poems.
Freya snorted so loud Magnus hopped off her lap. “Feats of strength in the Alastar trials? Oh, I forgot that is what those biddies at school teach you.”
I put down my teacup. What else could the trials have been other than feats of strength? Although…our lessons never mentioned the Hyton sons who had lost the trials. Maybe they traveled to different kingdoms or became adventurers? Or maybe…
“They all died.” My stomach was hollow as I said it. I looked up at Freya. “The Dukes of Lycaster were not merely declared winners…they were just the last brother standing.”
Brietta’s mouth fell open.
Freya’s eyes gleamed. “There is only one bull in a herd.”
I gripped my hands as I imagined Derrick and Riyan facing off against each other in an arena…
Derrick would not have stood a chance.
