“Even my spies are not skilled enough to infiltrate the Varo Citadel, Your Majesty,” he answered.
“My love,” the king said.“Will you send a raven to your mother?If there is a Varo weapon in the wind, I want to know when it was stolen and why we weren’t informed.”
“Assuming it was stolen,” Valin interjected.They all turned to him.The spymaster glanced over his shoulder, feigning surprise.“What?Would you ignore the experience of everyone in Moonwatch who fell victim to this weapon?The Varo did not report the theft of this carnyx, and they are capable of enchanting items.”
Queen Thyra looked ready to spit venom, the expression so foreign that it froze Bastion in place.
“How dare you!”the Queen Mother exclaimed.
Valin merely inclined his head.“It’s my job, Your Majesty, to look at every possibility.”Endre took a step towards Valin, his hand clenching his long knife like he was ready to draw it.
The king boomed, “Enough!”
The prince stopped and retreated, but his hand stayed on the long knife sheathed at his side.It was easy to forget that he was half Varo, especially since his mother had sent her attendants home long before Bastion arrived in the palace.
“Lord Kyrith told me they were unable to recover the carnyx,” the king said.
Bastion’s heart dropped again.“That is my understanding, Your Majesty.But we brought prisoners who may be able to help find it.”
Torvald nodded.“You’ve given us much to think about.Is there anything else?”
Bastion gripped the arm of his chair, and the king’s eyes followed the movement.
“The matter of my lineage,” Bastion said.His heart felt like a bird chained to a stone, desperately trying to fly away.“I would be remiss if I didn’t give you this information before you made a final decision about my knighthood.”
“You’re an orphan, are you not?”Valin asked.
Bastion gritted his teeth.The question had the ring of an accusation.He swallowed the fear rising in him.
“Yes, but… there’s more than that.”
__________
The revelation went about how he expected.
Valin was outraged at being deceived.The Queen Mother watched Bastion with shrewd eyes and not a little pride.Thyra smiled with all the affection of a cat who just discovered she was raising a duck instead of a kitten and was supremely pleased, while the king digested the information with an air of gravity.
All Torvald said was, “I admire the courage it took to tell us, but understand… this deception may cost you your knighthood.”
Bastion swallowed.“I understand, Your Majesty.”
A knock on the door cut off any further discussion.
“Ah, our next appointment,” Queen Thyra said.“Endre, Lord Valin, Bastion, thank you for coming this morning.”
As if he’d been waiting for the dismissal, Valin bowed and strode from the room, the box tucked beneath his arm.Bastion’s eyes followed him, catching the hitch in his step when he saw whoever waited in the hall.He and Endre bid the monarchs farewell and left as a woman slipped into the room.Bastion only had time to note the long braid that hung to her waist, as white as a bleached bone.
The door closed, but not before Bastion heard a note of worry enter the queen’s voice as she said, “Runa, this is an unexpected pleasure…”
Endre gave him a reassuring look and departed with the others, off to whatever princely duties demanded his attention.Left to his own devices, Bastion wandered through the palace, reflecting.
It was Lord Valin he found himself dwelling on.The man had never been friendly, always regarding Bastion as if he were a nuisance.His reaction to Bastion being part Yvri was unsurprising, but the emotion that surged between them when he handed off the pendant was not.He couldn’t prove anything, and Valin had been a pillar of loyalty and decorum since before Torvald took the throne.The interaction left Bastion feeling like he’d just shown his hand in a game of cards.
He stepped out onto a deserted terrace that looked west and inhaled the cold winter air.Below, the river cut through the city, glinting like a drawn blade.Bastion went to the balustrade and gripped it until the bite of cold stone sank through his palms in a bone-deep ache.
That was how Lyanthis found him.
“A word, Bastion,” he said.
