Page 97 of The Dead Queen

Malen sighs theatrically at us. “How disappointing.”

Hunter steps forward, placing me a few feet behind him. “One would think you’d be used to disappointment when looking at me, Father.” His voice is strong, confident. But I can see the way his fingers tremble at his side. Nothing can scare a grown man like his angry father.

Malen scowls. “Surrender now, and perhaps the king will show mercy.”

Tristan scoffs beside us, his voice low and bitter. “Sounds highly unlikely.” He turns to Commander Malen. “How did you even find us? There are hundreds of miles of borderland.”

Malen nods, considering. “We were lucky enough to happen upon a woman with three, filthy brats on the main road. Riding some rather familiar-looking horses from the royal stable.”

Tristan groans, shooting Hunter a murderous glare.

“Once we told them the crime for stealing royal horses was punishable by death, they were more than happy to tell us about the three fugitives they met off-trail in Korrigan Forest. The Wolf, the knight, and the maiden were heading straight for Ellyll. So, we took the main roads to get here before you did.”

“You’d stoop so low as to threaten to execute children?” Hunter’s voice is venomous.

Malen’s eyebrows raise. “Actually execute?” he pauses, considering. “Possibly. If I believed the crime were truly committed. There’s no use in permitting child thieves to grow up and become adult thieves.”

“They weren’t thieves,” Hunter says.

Tristan waggles his head noncommittally.

Hunter narrows his eyes at him. “At least, they didn’t steal from the king.”

“No, they didn’t,” Malen says lightly. “You did.” The silence that followed is thick with threats. He continues, “But I’m not concerned with the petty theft of horseflesh. I’m here to see justice served for crimes against the king.”

I laugh. “And what crimes were those? Refusing to be murdered by a tyrant?”

Malen shrugs. “It hardly matters what I think.”

I glance at Hunter, his grip on his sword tightens. His voice is firm. “I won’t let you take them.”

“Let me?” His father tilts his head, like it was a curious thing to say. “I doubt there’s much you can do about it.” He raises an eyebrow. “You’ve always been the poorest student in the classroom. Barely scraping by. Dragging our good name through the mud.” He shakes his head. “You are no son of mine.” He spits at the ground.

Even now, Hunter flinches.

I step forward and put a hand on Hunter’s arm. “You’ve always been a better man than him. He’s a fool if he can’t see it.”

Hunter doesn’t say anything in response.

“Still listening to the Little Fox, I see.” His father leans forward on his horse. “She’s always been a bad influence.”

“You’d better watch your tongue,” I hiss. “Speaking about the heir to Llwyn like that.”

He just laughs. “Former, my girl. Former heir to Llwyn. And a thorn in the king’s side since the day you were born.”

“At least I was a true-born heir,” I snap. “Unlike the boy your people are passing off as my brother.”

This gets a reaction out of him. His cool-headed mask falls. Doubtless he thought his ruse was still a secret. He sits up, his face growing dark. “What do you know of anything beyond storybooks and borderland camps?”

I smile the most sinister grin I can manage. “A lot more than you’d like, I’d wager.”

Next to me Hunter grabs my wrist. “Don’t, Sienna. He lashes out when he’s angry.”

Tristan leans into the huddle. “He’s already angry.”

“Well goading him never helps,” Hunter snaps.

“I’m waiting,” his father calls. “Come quietly, or we will have to use force.”