“I take it Viori society is more stratified here?”
Seren nodded, withdrawing her hand from Ciaran’s. “The tribes are the outermost rung of Viori society,” she explained, her tone carefully neutral. “We’re the bulk of the Vangar because we came here later—newer arrivals to the Dreadwood. The ones who first fled here centuries ago settled near Emberstone, tired of wandering. Over time, they built lives for themselves.”
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Ciaran said, “Now they leave us to fight their war with Lirien.”
His bitterness was unexpected. “Didn’t they offer your tribe refuge here?”
“Temporarily. They won’t let us stay here forever.”
Amahle set her arm around him. “We all need to keep our voices down. There are spies everywhere in Emberstone, and they’ll drag us away and question us for treason.”
Ciaran lifted his red face defiantly. “Let them try. They won’t get within a foot of me.”
“No, they won’t,” Seren said as the barmaid approached with plates of steaming food. “But if we get kicked out before I have time to eat, then I may fight with you myself.”
A giant, torn hunk of crusty bread had been placed in the broth on the plate. It felt like months since I’d eaten food so rich and full. The last meal I’d shared with Thorne and Dalric had been like this. Gods, I missed them both.
I still couldn’t get the images of Dalric’s slaughter out of my mind. It only fueled my deep anger. Especially now that I knew my own flesh and blood had been behind the attack. Life had seemed simpler then … before the Dreadwood.
Seren’s friends intrigued me. Ciaran’s family clearly had money and position within Seren’s tribe—they owned horses, and Seren had mentioned his father was one of the council members I’d seen that first day. His irritation with the upper echelons of Viori society probably stemmed, in part, from that.
Amahle was more enigmatic. Friendly, but impersonal. She revealed little about herself, a guardedness in her interactions that reminded me of Thorne.
“Did your family come with the rest of the tribe?” I asked Amahle abruptly, testing my theory.
Seren’s eyes widened. “Rykr?—”
Amahle held out a hand, silencing her. “He’s trying to get to know me, Seren. And it’s better than a conversation that could get us all in trouble.” She settled her shoulders back. “No, I’m an orphan. My parents died at the hands of Lirien soldiers in a skirmish when I was twelve. What gave it away? Do I wear my neglect on my brow?” She teased a smile, but her eyes remained a mask.
“No. You just remind me of someone I know. He lost his parents as a boy, too.”
Seren gave me a curious look then, her body turning toward mine.
“Do you mean you?” Seren asked tenuously.
“A friend of mine. I was just disowned, remember?”
She must not have believed me, because she set her hand on my forearm. “Where are your parents now, Rykr?”
All three eyes at the table fixed on me.
I took a swallow of ale. “Dead, actually.” The statement burned my gut.
Seren’s expressive eyes softened with sorrow, and she bit that luscious lower lip of hers.
Godsdamn, I’d like to sink my teeth into it.
That thought came out of nowhere.
“I’m fine.” I wasn’t, but she didn’t have to know that.
“Cheers to a fellow orphan,” Amahle said, lifting her stein with a sardonic smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We’ve all lost people, but that doesn’t make it easier. The Ragnalls took me in, though, so I can’t complain.” She paused, studying Seren with gentleness. “Which is why I see Seren like a sister. A pale, tiny, little sister.”
Seren rolled her eyes, her posture relaxing more. Amahle wasn’t exaggerating about that part—the two women were opposites in size and appearance. Where Seren was petite and lithe, Amahle was tall, lean, and graceful. Dark-skinned.
Both were beautiful, though.
Ciaran leaned forward on his elbows, unwilling to let go of his distrust of me. He watched me suspiciously. “So, you see, Rykr, we all have reasons to dislike your kind. Amahle’s parents, my brother—who was burned alive, tied to a stake in a Lirien town—Seren’s little sister, Esme, who was just fifteen when kidnapped by your?—”
