Yes.
I shake my head. Slow, so as not to startle him.
A stiff-necked lie.
He sucks air between his teeth, like he sees the motion for what it is:
Placation.
Tension wells like a rising dam. My heart labors, then feels as though it pops when he finally shifts again, using his hands to pluck another strip of meat and drop it on my plate.
I almost gag with relief.
“Well,” he murmurs, “it’s important you know that it was never my intention for the child to die. The miskunn foretold certain outcomes based on the information we provided you and the actions of your binder. It was just a littlegame, Fire Lark. Another song for you to dance to.”
I pinch my lips together. Feel his words plow through my ribs and mangle the contents of my chest cavity.
Another bit of meat is slapped on my plate, so hard blood splats against my cheek and neck. “Though I must say, Iloathebeing forced to resort to such measures to simplyGET. YOUR. ATTENTION.”
His words explode against me with such force I physically recoil. A knee-jerk reaction that makes my face blaze. In its wake, I cower from Kaan’s pressing stare as he wrestles and gnashes through muffled words that hold no shape.
I’d do anything for him to turn away. Hate that he’s seeing this side of me, broken in like a trained colk turning to the tug of my reins … giving Arkyn my full, undivided attention.
A desperate attempt to douse his welling rage.
“Apologies, Arkyn.” Another muffled scream batters me from across the table. “I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just a lot to take in.”
Arkyn’s smile gleams, his next words gentle. “What lovely manners you’ve learned. Apology accepted.”
A scoop of wet vegetables slop upon my plate while my dignity shrivels up and dies.
“You’ve always been a force, Raeve.” He sucks the meat juice off his fingers and thumb—a rowdy slurp. “Since I found you stumbling south with that crack in your skull. Your eyes were so dark and determined.” He wobbled a finger at me. “You would’ve made it wherever you were headed, if only to die on the doorstep.” A shrug before he pinches something flaky that he scatters over my meal. “Had I notsavedyou.”
I doubt that’s how my Other saw it at the time, but sure.
He grabs an urn and dribbles steaming gravy over my mound of food. “I was told the blow had busted your memories beyond repair, but knowing what I do now … Well, I think they’re in there somewhere.”
He slams the urn back on the table in front of Kaan, sloshing him with gravy. It must burn, but he doesn’t even flinch, eyes on Arkyn, who pinches a tendril of my hair and twirls it around his finger in a way that makes my skin crawl. Makes his pettrillfrom the darkness above, like she wants to leap down and gouge my fucking brain out. “Such bold, beautiful rage doesn’t simmer without a source.”
I stiffen, pitted with paralyzing unease.
He knows something. He doesn’t dance around a point unless it’s sharp enough to bleed you dry.
“Not that I’m complaining,” he rushes, leaning back to pull a familiar dragonscale blade from within the folds of his cloak, so dark red it’s almost black.
Rygun’s.
One of the blades that was in my sheath.
He leans forward across the table, using the blade to slice through a lump of bread. “Your many victories have filled my coffers and granted us safety during the coming falls. And were it not for your efforts in The Fade, eliminating certain threats that would’ve otherwise hindered progress,well,” he says, his next words nails pounded into the soft, fleshy bits of my soul, “there’d be no beaded army ready to purge my brother’s forces the moment I charge on Dhomm.”
Kaan makes a dense sound while my thoughts churn like a storm of razorblades, slicing back to a memory. Something Arkyn once said about the bronze crown.
Kaan’scrown.
Sometime soon, I’ll wear my bronze crown, and you won’t ever have to hurt again. I’ll be on my rightful throne, and you’ll be by my side, enjoying the spoils of your battles.
Dread kicks me in the gut so hard I lose breath, watching Arkyn slice bits of bread away like flaps of skin.
