Page 32 of The Truth

“Alvira… while you were gone…”

She looked at him curiously, her brow furrowing in worry the way it always did, that damn circlet getting in the way.

“Farda’s brother.”

“Torlan? What of him? He…” He saw the look in her eyes, the realisation. “What happened?”

“Bandits on the road from Caelduin to Anthír. Both him and his wife, Sahira. They didn’t live.”

“The girls?”

“Alive.”

“Thank the gods.” She clasped her hands together and pressed her fingers to her lips.

“The gods did little.”

She frowned at him, giving him a look that said ‘not today’.

“He has taken the girls in as his own,” Eltoar said.

“I will go to him.” Alvira leaned against the stone parapet that fronted the plateau upon which they stood. “You will drink with us later?”

“Not this night, unfortunately. I have a previous engagement.” Eltoar stared down into the yard, watching Salara intently as she was paired with Aeson Virandr. He watched in part to see the outcome and in part to avoid Alvira’s eye. He did not wish for an argument, but he knew it would arrive nonetheless.

“Previous engagement?”

“Yes. Arranged prior to this moment.”

“I understand the meaning of the words, Eltoar.”

“Very well,” he said. “My task here is already complete then.”

“You go to Fane again.” Eltoar didn’t have to look to know Alvira’s nostrils were flared, her arms crossed, her teeth grinding.

“What of it, Alvira?”

“You know what, Eltoar. The man is poison.”

“He questions what others do not. It is a healthy practice.” Eltoar pressed his tongue to the top of his mouth after he spoke. He and Alvira had argued more of late, and Fane was often at the centre of it. “All things could do with being questioned a little more.”

“Questioned?” Alvira turned fully to him now, her voice rising enough that two of the Praetorians on guard cast their gazes upon them. “He spreads lies and deceit. He speaks out against the council, against The Order… against me.” she stared into Eltoar’s eyes, unblinking. “Only two moons past, Tarast told me of word spread that I was unfit to be Archon. That I was too weak to stand against the council. That I am the reason so many died when the Karvosi made landfall. Do you agree, Eltoar? Is that what you think of me?”

“Of course not.” Eltoar shook his head in disbelief. “Alvira, you are my Archon. I am your First Sword. I would follow you into the fires of the void. I would burn this world to keep you safe. Please, do not bring it back to this. I don’t want to argue.”

“Then why do you taunt me so by continuing to entertain him when you know what he is, what he says?”

“He questions things, Alvira, but he does not spread treason. Where did Tarast hear this? From Fane’s own lips?”

Alvira hesitated. “One of the mages.”

“And where did the mage hear it? It just becomes whispers, Alvira. There are many who would find endless joy in watching Fane fall. Did you hear how many Bloodmarked he tore apart at the Burning River? How he pulled Prince Athír from the jaws of death?”

“Do you hear yourself? Are his claws buried so deep within you?”

“Take care of your words, Alvira, as I take care of mine.”

Alvira narrowed her gaze. “Speak your mind.”