Page 216 of Of Masks and Fury

“His companion judges him worthy, per Gavelle,” Trew said.

“Pherin’s less convinced,” I said.

Hurt runs deep,she said.Trust takes time.

I understood that feeling intimately. Trust, once shattered, reformed slowly if it reformed at all.

“I say we let him in, but at the first sign of betrayal, we kill him,” I said to Trew. “No second chances.”

“Agreed.”

We returned to where Maddox waited, his expression carefully neutral though tension radiated from his frame. His companion watched us approach, the wolf-cat’s ears pricked forward.

“You can come with us,” Trew said. “But understand this. We don’t fully trust you. You’ll have to earn that.”

Relief flooded Maddox’s features, followed quickly by determination. “I will. I swear it.”

“Break that oath,” I said quietly, “and we’ll finish what you started in Mistvale. Except this time, I’ll be the one with the poison.”

His eyes met mine, unflinching. “Fair enough.”

His companion made a sound that might’ve been approval. She bumped against Maddox’s leg.

“We leave in three hours,” Trew told Maddox. “Meet us in the east wing supply closet in one hour to help prepare.”

“I will.” His gaze shot between us. “Does this involve Caldrith’s march on our court?”

“Not directly,” Trew said.

Maddox waited, but we weren’t saying anything else. With a grunt, he bowed again and strode away, his companion padding silently beside him.

I watched them go, too many emotions churning through my chest. People could change. The question was whether I could trust him even a bit.

“Hungry?” Trew asked.

My stomach answered with a growl.

“I’d say yes,” he said with a smile that made my heart flip over. “What would you like to eat, my lovely one?”

“That’s a question with multiple answers.”

His low laugh rang out. “Let’s take care of your belly. Sadly, there isn’t time to take care of anything else.”

“Unless we’re quick.”

Heat sparked in his eyes. “I can be quick.”

I grinned. “Show me after we eat.”

The dining hall buzzed when we arrived, though it was only about half filled with warriors. Many had been called to the front already. Those remaining sat at long tables, their conversations a low rumble mixing in with the clatter of trenchers. Platters loaded with food floated through the air and pitchers tipped up, pouring the beverage of choice into mugs. The scent of fresh bread and roasted meat made my mouth water.

Falling back into my usual habit, I started toward the table where I’d always sat during my time at Syllavar, the one on the left side where new warriors gathered. Old habits.

Trew’s hand on my elbow stopped me. “You’re sitting with me.”

I found him watching me with an expression that made butterflies flick low in my belly.

“There’s only one open seat,” I said, glancing at the high table on the dais. Kira’s usual place, on Trew’s right hand, remained empty. This was the position of highest honor after the king himself. I didn’t like the idea of sitting in her chair.