Faron looks too furious to speak.
“Next time you decide to try and force me into a hostage negotiation, maybe you’ll bring a proper army to support you.”
The Dralsk Lord stares at the blood pooling around Gareth’s head. Swallows hard. Composes himself, then finally meets Reave’s eyes once more. “I’ll consider this your official declaration of war, then.”
“As if you hadn’t already fucking declared it by sending a spy into my palace. Now get the fuck out of my city before I shoot the rest of you. Oh…” Reave pauses as he turns away, glancing over his shoulder as he adds, “and give the royal family my sincere condolences for their loss.”
The masked Mouren soldiers surge forward with synchronized, deadly poise, ready to intercept anyone who might try a desperate counterattack. A few seem to be considering it, but ultimately, they all sink back toward the shadows, including Lord Faron.
Sesca is still nowhere to be seen. My body is cold, my vision fading back to its usual impaired state as I stare atGareth, trying to make sense of everything that’s just happened.
I stumble a few steps toward his corpse. I don’t know why, or what I plan to do, but it doesn’t matter; I don’t get far before Reave grabs my arm and jerks me roughly to his side, marching me into the palace with him.
He ignores my questions, my demands, gripping me more tightly every time I try to break free of his hold.
Kestrel follows us, giving orders to further secure the palace and its grounds as she comes.
We reach the hall that leads to Reave’s office. Guards fill in behind us. Reave finally releases me once we’re secure in this relatively quiet space, then turns to his sister, briefly cupping a hand to her face and pressing his forehead to hers.
“That was a rash display, even for you,” Kestrel scolds when he takes a step back—though her voice is missing its typical bite. She’s shaken, I think, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.
“We both knew his execution was imminent,” Reave answers. “I’m just ahead of schedule. You’re always complaining about me being late, aren’t you?”
She gives him a withering look.
My shock is wearing off, turning into something closer to fury. I grab Kestrel’s arm and force her attention to me. “Where is Briar?” I demand. “She was with you, she was helping you?—”
“Calm down,” she hisses, prying my hand off and shoving it away. “I left her in the banquet hall, where our guests are sheltering along with most of our guards. I’m sure she’s fine.”
I squeeze my hands into fists only to unclench them, over and over again, trying to keep numbing panic from setting intoo deep. “Because so much of tonight has beenfine,hasn’t it?” I move as if to go search for Briar on my own.
Reave grabs my wrist, stopping me.
I jerk away from him so hard I nearly lose my balance.
The intimate, vulnerable moments we shared on the rooftop feel a lifetime away as we glare at one another, my deep-rooted hatred of him coiling tight around my heart once more, choking out any other feelings that had started to bloom.
“…I’ll go find her and send her your way,” Kestrel offers. Reave looks as though he wants to protest her leaving his side, but she continues before he can. “Just let me do something useful. After letting them get their disgusting hands on me, I need to balance things out. I’ll be fine. And if I do happen to run into any lingering, stray enemies, you should be worried aboutthem, not me.” She smooths her blood-stained dress and combs her fingers through her tangled hair before calmly striding away.
Reave sighs as he watches her go, then gestures me toward his office.
I want answers, so I don’t protest—though I keep a wide berth between us.
The words flood out of me the instant he locks the door behind us. “So, when you all told me Commander Gareth wasotherwise engaged, what you really meant was that he was rotting away in your dungeon.”
“Yes. And it was far better treatment than he deserved.” He doesn’t look at me as he speaks, focusing on lighting the small lamp on his desk.
I try to remain calm, logical, but it’s difficult when all the violent events of the night are flashing on repeat through my mind. “You should have told me the truth.”
Reave braces his hands against his desk and bows his head. “I was still trying to figure out the truth for myself.”
“But you’re certain he was a spy?”
“Yes. I thought those Dralsk bastards had a Flameseer among them, as I told you. It turns out it was just Gareth feeding information about you and your progress to them.”
“And you know this because…”
He lifts his gaze to me. “He confessed.”
