I didn’t understand what was happening, but I did know that I would not get out of the way until I found out. Especially not when Darcke stood so terrifyingly still, even as Torden shoved at him.
“What is this?” I snarled, sidestepping when the iron-bound did, shadowing their movements.
“It’s all right, Vara.”
I stuttered when Ivren stepped forward, his voice calm.
“They’re here to help,” he continued. “They’re here to make sure we win.”
Something deep within me coiled and twisted, spinning such hard knots I was grateful I hadn’t eaten in almost a day.
“What do you mean?” I didn’t dare turn around as Ivren came to my side.
“I called for aid,” he said. “To make sure we lived. Nothing more.”
Darcke’s scoff rattled my bones.
“That’s funny to you?” my brother’s best friend asked. “Tell me… could you save her right now? If they came forher, could you move?”
Darcke’s wild eyes slid to mine, but his body remained frozen.
It was Ivren’s turn to expel air as he gestured to a rigid Viljan. “Like Viljan, you’re not strong enough to keep her alive. I, on the other hand, am.” He spun my way. “Your mother reached out to me, Elvara. She told me everything. How those men killed Lika. How they stabbed your father with his own sword.”
Sharp inhales came from the heirs. Tears glistened on Vero’s cheeks, and Geord blinked—understandingfirst filling his features, then a strange respect darkening his eyes as they swept over me. Rakkel stood entirely still, her face turned to the ground.
“She’s helped me protect you,” Ivren continued. “And now we’re going to protect our people too. By unseating the king, Skagerik will return to its former glory—we’ll start the trade again, give back some land, live inpeace.”
Despite his words, caution knitted in my gut. One fueled by the strange hot fury rolling off Darcke, making me tremble as I continued to face the iron-bound holding their blades with a white-knuckle grip.
“How long?” I asked to buy myself time.
Something didn’t make sense. I felt Darcke’s warmth behind me, and I didn’t think before I stepped back into it, letting his chest align with my back, his breaths fuel mine.
“Ever since I found out our enemies murdered your father and Lika,” Ivren said, and Viljan shifted behind him—the only sign he hadn’t known. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you outright, but you had enough going on. It’s the king’s fault, Elvara. He’s the reason they’re dead.” Ivren’s eyes misted. “I wasn’t going to let them take you too. Lika would never have forgiven me.”
“Now, can you step aside?” my mother asked.
“I—”
Again the iron-bound moved, bloodthirst in their war-painted faces. I moved when they did, feeling Darcke’s fingers twitch against my lower back.
You’re not asking the right questions.
The hilt of my sword grew hot with how hard I held it. “What do you plan to do?”
Ivren’s mother joined mine. “Kill the king and everyone loyal to him.”
“And what about those who are forced to be?” I gestured to Darcke, Torden, and the warriors held back from coming any closer—from helping us. “These men would not die for him unless they had to.”
At least not Darcke. I didn’t know his men well, but I doubted that if Darcke took our side, they’d stand against him.
My mother sighed as if I were an unruly child. “Yes, they would, Elvara.”
“They wouldn’t.” I shook my head. “Darcke is leashed by him.” I jerked my head toward the shaman. “Because of him.”
Why wasn’t the king saying anything? Why wasn’t Darcke saying anything?
Vero looked as confused as I did. Geord moved closer to his second, his face turning from the silent king to the stiff warriors to the smug chiefs. Viljan stared blankly at me, but I didn’t like what pulled at his shoulders.
