“Fine!” Darcke grumbled. “Bring some fucking food, but then get out of my sight.”
“And you said he wasn’t that bad,” I whispered as I patted the table.
Darcke’s eyes seared into mine. “What are you hiding now?”
I scooped up every bit of food I could fit in my arms before starting to back up.
“Nothing.” I offered him a blinding smile as I stepped over the threshold. “It’s not a secret that you’re a bastard.”
The door behind me slammed shut as Darcke flew toward me, and despite everything, I giggled when he snarled at the wood.
Twenty-Six
“The trial of wood is in a week’s time.” Guner gestured to the training ring, where it seemed like every karl on Nordoen had gathered to watch. “Before then you are to practice fighting with your bond. You’ll start against each other—trying to read each other’s moves. Heirs and seconds alike have died during this trial because they tried to rely on their own strength, not that of their tether. For the spirits of Morkskog to find you worthy—for you to honor them—you need to fight as one, for the wood that chooses the heir will also provide timber for the second.”
“All this fucking talk of honor,” Darcke muttered. “As if anyone here knows what honor is.”
I moved away from his side as if that would relieve me of any guilt by association. His amusement flickered through the bond, and I gritted my teeth when it only increased as I took another step back, leaving him, Kilia, and Ilse standing by the rope surrounding the circle of cut grass where Ottoh and his sister strode in.
“Vara,” someone called behind me. Someone very familiar.
“Viljan,” I whispered as I whirled.
My guard shot a look to the side where Ivren was busy, indeep conversation with Fedic, before making his way over. I turned my back when Darcke’s annoyance wove around me, so strong I had to fight against the urge to return to him.
Viljan had never stood as close as he did now, his body towering over me, casting me entirely in shade. The cool air wasn’t what made me straighten my spine, though. It was the ember of distrust in Viljan’s eyes—the tension lining his shoulders as he took me in.
“How are you?” I asked. “How was your bonding?”
“I don’t have long,” he said. “We need to speak about that. But first, I need to ask you a question.”
“Go on.” More apprehension knitted in my gut. “What is it?”
“Did you plan to go with Darcke all along? Is that why you pushed me away?”
I let out a shocked laugh. “Of course not.” I reached out a hand his way, but my arm fell to my side when he jerked backward, ever the honorable guard. “Viljan, I pushed you away so the gods wouldn’t look unfavorably upon you. Everything I’ve done so far? Do you think they’ll smile at me when I stroll into their halls?”
A small part of me had hoped he’d disagree—that he’d say I was brave. That I’d done what I had to for my people, that my lying and cheating and sacrificing innocent people for my own was what he would have done too. But Viljan didn’t lie.
“No.” The muscle in his jaw knotted. “But you made it worse. You chose a foreigner, Vara. His people worship the Vanir, for gods’ sake. What would Lika and your father say if he gets to rule our people?”
“I know.” I covered my face with my hands. “I… I just. He wouldn’t be able to tell… you know? It was the only way to keep them safe.”
“It wasn’t. There were other options. I might not fucking agree with the Solsken heir, but even he tried to keep you safe. Fedic would have been fine! Darcke? He wants to kill you half thetime!”
I kept my gaze firmly on the ground when my throat started burning.
Viljan ground his teeth, his boots shuffling in the grass. “I need to ask you another question, and you’re not going to like it.”
My throat clogged from worry, but I forced a nod.
“Your father’s men sent me a letter.” Viljan paused as if the words were difficult to get out. “The axe that took your brother’s life. It… it was one of our own.”
It was like diving into a pool of ice—like the ones Lika and I would climb into during winter, fighting over who could stay in the longest.
“What?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
Viljan’s throat bobbed. “Vara… I… Did you have your brother killed to be here?”
