Appearing perfect is how Theron gets through life. And since he is actually a lazy, incompetent coward, the cost of that farce is typically steep—which isn’t a problem, since it's not Theron who pays it. The one truly brilliant skill Theron has managed to acquire is finding the right people to surround himself with—talented subordinates whose accomplishments he can claim as his own, and convenient scapegoats who take the fall when his plans inevitably collapse. Growing up, I had the pleasure of being both.
"So the prodigal prince returns after what, a three year holiday?” Theron says, loud enough to be heard for every guard in the vicinity. “I hope the war hasn’t caused you undue inconvenience.”
“Theron.” I nod curtly. “Allow me to introduce Prince Kai of Slait,” I motion to Kai, wincing internally as Rowan flinches at the news. Between the kidnapping and fighting, there hadn’t been a private moment to explain the lineage particulars to her and Ellie. I extend my hand toward the women, “And our human companions. We are on our way to Slait and will not be imposing on your hospitality beyond today.”
"Prince Kai of Slait." Theron bows with perfect court precision. "What an unexpected honor. Do let me know if I might be of assistance provisioning your journey.”
Kai says nothing.
Theron clears his throat. “Right. I will have proper accommodations rigged so you might take advantage of Flurry’s hospitality while you are here. Our resources are unfortunately limited—we are an active military division in the midst of action you understand—but what we have is yours for use.” His attention turns to Ellie and Rowan. “Humans cannot be allowed to roam free of course. I will take charge of them now.”
"They're with us," Kai says, his shadows coiling tighter as he steps between Rowan and the guard who, at Theron’s words, had taken a step toward the women. The guard wisely stops.
“With due respect, Your Highness, but as I mentioned previously we are an active military detachment,” Theron tells Kai tightly. He’s perfected the art of talking down to people while saying all the proper words. “Unlike the Slait Court, Flurry is in a dynamic conflict with Eryndor. The alchemist daughter of Eryndor’s leading military commander is notwithanyone, she is an intelligence asset and must be exploited as such.”
Kai's face darkens. “She isn’t your asset, Theron.”
I swallow a curse and he stopstalking. He might not get along with his legendary parents, but he doesn’t understand how it works here. How far Theron is willing to go for credit, how cruel he can be to avenge a perceived slight. Especially a publicone. Rowan is too big a fish for him to let go of and I am certain he will see her dead before he releases her to us. Especially in a public form.
Our best option is to dangle glory within Theron’s reach while creating enough of a delay to get the rutting hell out. If our draken could be convinced to carry the humans—an arrangement which is highly unlikely but at least not impossible.
There is an aerial host a dozen strong roosting on the far fields,Arianda, my draken, says into my mind.They would be pleased to see the alchemist torn to bloody bits.A pause.Ulyssus and Nyx would as well.
Ulyssus and Nyx would be pleased to see anyone and everyone torn to bloody bits,I send back, but can’t ignore Arianda’s point.Can you explain to them that Rowan is of more use developing an antidote than dead?If an aerial escape is impossible, we’ll have to stick to the forest. With Theron’s whole army on our heels. Because he is just petty enough to turn his back on the enemy to pursue an insult to his pride.
Arianda shifts in my mind, a cold brush of scales against my consciousness.They smell the alchemy on her. It reminds them of?—
"—Are you feeling ill, little brother?” Theron's voice cuts through my mental connection. His gaze sweeps over the gathering crowd, settling on one of the stewards. “Please fetch a glass of wine. He’s always found talking of war distressing and being caught in the middle of things is more than he can bear.”
He returns his attention to Kai. "At any rate, Ainsley’s daughter is already mine. As you can plainly see, she stands on Flurry soil, in the center of my camp, surrounded by my soldiers." He gestures grandly at the surrounding camp. "Truly your highness, you should know that it's a matter of both law and convention that a captured enemy combatant or asset belongs to the commanding officer of the operation. Am I notcorrect, Lord Darious?” The last is addressed to a crooked nosed male with a advocate general sigil on the breast of his uniform.
“You are, your highness,” the male replies promptly. “The commanding officer of an operation is the defecto custodian of all prisoner taken into during his tenure.”
"Interesting claim, Commander, considering you haven't actually captured so much as a gerbil,” Kai says drily. And loudly. “In fact, best I can tell, you’d outsourced the fighting and capturing to Eryndor mercenaries.”
Theron's smile falters, color rising at the tip of his ears and darkening his forehead. "She is standing in the middle of my camp." He spits out the words in a staccato cadence.
"She is standing," Kai says, "exactly where Prince Kyrian and I brought her. From Eryndor. Where we located and captured her. Without your involvement."
A muscle pulses in Theron’s jaw, then his lips curl into a familiar dangerous expression. The one that means he is about to do something drastic to protect his image.
"Let us table your claims until we’ve some facts to examine,” he says too genially to Kai. “Meanwhile, some basic precautions that anyone with an ounce of competence would have by now. That is, to declaw the venomous cat.” He gestures as half a dozen armed guards step forward. "Take the Ainsley girl," Theron commands with casual cruelty, "and cut off her hands at the wrists.”
Chapter 5
Kyrian
For a terrible heartbeat, no one moves. Even the guards hesitate. Not out of mercy, but confusion—unsure if they’d heard their commander correctly. I can see the questions flashing in their faces. Cut off her hands here and now? Just outside the command tent? Or take her somewhere first? Then one of Theron’s advisors steps forward.
"That's... brilliant, my lord." His eyes gleam with approval. He rolls his shoulders, the motion oddly predatory. "She cannot create more auric alloy without her hands, yet will be able to provide the crucial intelligence we require. A clean solution to a dangerous problem."
Murmurs of agreement ripple through the now sizable crowd we’ve collected. The shifters especially seem taken with the idea, nodding and exchanging looks of satisfaction.
Rowan goes rigid.
I step forward instinctively, but Kai is already moving—fluid, methodical, deadly. His expression is unreadable, but I recognize the quiet fury in the set of his jaw, the coiled tension in his limbs.
And then he speaks. Not to guards. Not to Theron. But to the space between them all, his voice level and smooth as silk—coated in threat. "That's going to be a problem, your highness. I may have forgotten to mention one other important fact. Rowan Ainsley is also my fiancée and it would inconvenience me to have her maimed." His voice hardens. "And who knows. Slait might well consider such a move an act of war. Are you prepared to declare war on behalf of Flurry, Prince Theron?"
