Fedic, maybe. He had checked in on me every day. But even with him… How was I supposed to know how to make this decision? How was I supposed to know who I wanted in my inner circle for the rest of my life? However short it might be.
“These people will know everything about you,” Ivren continued. “They will be sworn to protect you and your secrets for the rest of their lives. It’s the highest honor for a karl. You can’t just… select someone on the day.”
“I know,” I said. “I?—”
I went still.
They will be sworn to protect you and your secrets for the rest of their lives.
Kilia stood leaning against the railing, his lips quirking when he found my eyes on him.
I could hear Viljan’s disagreement roaring in my mind.You’re only doing this to spare his life—because you feel guilty about his brother. It wasn’t your fault.
Oscri’s death might not have been my fault—not entirely, at least—but if I did this, I could ensure none of the Havskold twins’ blood would stain my hands.
“Where did you go?” Ivren asked.
“Nowhere yet,” I said as the training ended. “But I need to find Viljan.”
But as I jumped up on my feet, seven karls surrounded me, their features contorted into menacing grins. More stormed forward, passing me and going for Ivren.
My back flew straight, my instincts blaring.
Were they seizing the last chance they had to kill us before the choosing?
“Back up,” I warned as I lifted my hands as if they would be able to do anything against this many of them. Even if I’d still had my rune, seven men was pushing it. “I won’t say it again.”
“Elvara, wait,” Ivren said as I kicked at the closest one’s groin.
The rest of his words disappeared when two of them got hold of my arms and pressed them against my body, a third going for my legs. As one sneaked an arm around my chest, I bit down on it as hard as I could, and his growl hissed over my skin.
“Let me go,” I snarled while I twisted my body the best I could, alternating between going limp and moving as much as possible to get out of their hold.
“Stop fighting,” one of the men ordered. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
“Much,” another added.
“It’s tradition!” Ivren called. “You’re fine!”
The men who’d gone for him were carrying him across the ship, and when Ivren let out a low howl, they threw him into the air before catching him again. I couldn’t see the other heirs, but similar cheers came from the other ships.
I tried to slow my frantic pulse, but hard fingers dug into my skin, pinching and squeezing wherever they could, and my blood raced faster again. Laughs surrounded Ivren as the karls pretended to drop him when they walked down the brow, but the men around me weren’t chuckling. There was something more vicious hiding behind their half-upturned lips.
When someone gripped my leg hard enough that I yelped, a deep, melodic voice broke in. “Set her down.”
“But it’s tradition,” protested the one who was holding on to my leg as if he planned to split it in two. “The heirs are always brought to a final challenge the night before the choosing.”
“It’s supposed to be fun,” someone else said snarkily.
“Doesn’t look like she’s having fun. Set her down,” Darcke ordered sharply.
“She could get away,” a third added. “She’s not even really fighting. We’d know if she used her rune.”
“I don’t care. Set. Her. Down.”
Even though Darcke didn’t have any powers beyond his body or mind, the men faltered, their grips loosening. When they hesitated, still keeping me in the air, a groan sounded, and my legs were released. As Darcke drove a fist into a face hovering above mine, my arms were let go too. I had prepared myself to crash into the deck when strong arms wrapped around me, these ones gentler—not as urgent.
For a moment Darcke cradled me against his pounding chest, and when I met his eyes, even the waves went silent. A shadow crossed his face, and then I was on my legs, Darcke shoving overboard a man who’d decided to go for his back.
