I had no reply, so I only shook my head. I had no idea who had awoken to approve Darcke as my second—who was telling us he or she was watching.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
It took the king long moments to quiet the crowd again, and when he did, there was something that hadn’t been there before in his expression. He didn’t look directly at me when he waved for me to go on.
I swallowed as I spoke my next name. “Kilia Havskold.”
Darcke’s laugh settled in my soul.
“If you wanted to die,” he whispered, his hot breath hitting my ear as he leaned in to ensure no one else would hear him, “you could have only asked. From what I’ve understood, anyone here would be willing to split your skull. Maybe even your guard. He didn’t look too upset at being chosen by your supposed friend.”
I stared straight ahead as a viciously smirking Kilia came to our side.
“Me as well,” the twin challenged as he reached out a hand.
My movements were jerky as I cut him, and the pink in the sky brightened—flickered fiercely for several long moments—as if with mirth. Fire burned behind my eyes as Kilia laughed before taking up a spot beside Darcke, and I wondered if I’d called to a god at all or an evil spirit that couldn’t wait until these two men bled me dry.
I could barely see when I turned to the crowd once more.
Fedic was standing almost right before me, his hands twisting behind his back. There wasn’t a shadow of a smile brightening his features, but he did still look at me when I paused.
Ilse stood a few steps back, and while fear didn’t tighten her features, something else worked there—that same sharp wit I’d seen before we were attacked. Turning from me to the other two men, she frowned, then the corners of her eyes tightened for a moment.
She was too clever for her own good.
I turned to my iron-bound—two men with such hatred in their eyes. It was unlikely I’d survive anyway. Better to keep another danger close.
“Ilse Snarskog,” I called.
There wasn’t any hesitation in her strides as she walked up to the fire—almost as if she’d known I’d choose her—and thankfully she used her own arrowhead to cut open her palm. When the four drops landed on the burning wood, it was extinguished instantly, the fire swallowing itself until not even a wisp of smoke remained.
Twenty-Two
Ididn’t hear Rakkel and Geord making their choices, barely registering the sky turning blue for Rakkel as Frigg gave her blessing, and purple for Geord, with Tyr standing behind his choices. Instead, I was acutely aware of the two men standing behind either one of my shoulders, one clenching and unclenching his hands and the other moving so close his every breath blew through my hair.
Darcke moved like my shadow: each time I tried to create some space between us, his body mockingly twisted with mine. With him so close, I was becoming dizzy from not being able to draw a full breath.
When the crowd before us broke up into smaller groups and normal fires were lit again, casting the glen in soft light, thralls walked from the king’s ship, carrying trays of food and drink in their hands, which they dispersed amongst the heirs and their iron-bound first, then to the rest of the Hird.
I declined a drink from the thrall I recognized from the first few nights, and when the girl realized who I was as well, her eyes dragged over my body before she spun, nose toward the aurora still weaving across the sky, as if the very air I breathed was beneath her.
I lowered my own chin.
I couldn’t find anything within me to tell her she was wrong.
“Even the servants can’t stand you.” Darcke’s lips nearly brushed my ear.
I recoiled, spinning on my heel.
“Can you back up?” I asked when he continued inching into my space.
“Why?” Darcke raised his brows innocently as he moved with me when I retreated. “I thought youwantedme tied to you? Isn’t that what this is all about? Putting me in my place for daring to not bow for the most special heir?”
My bottom lip trembled without my permission. I’d been the one to create this reputation by staying away from everyone—by refusing to fight and allowing the rumors to spread—but it wasn’t like I enjoyed it.
“I think she’s going to cry,” Kilia taunted.
So did I. But I would do everything in my power not to.
