Page 81 of Shadowborne: Reckoning

When Grace took a sip from her drink, I leaned into her ear. “Do you know the name of the Lord standing with my Lord?” I asked quietly.

She nodded and turned her head to whisper back. “Lord Darrow. He’s a friend of my father’s. He’s a good man. A bit boring, but trustworthy.”

I was surprised that she added the last part, but thanked her and returned my eyes to Donavyn, who was much better than me at keeping his stance casual and attention on others as if he had no cares.

Suddenly, I felt very, very tired. And watching Donavyn, I found myself really looking at him for the first time in a while.

He was large, and vital, handsome, and admired in these circles. But did they see the small lines on his face that hadn’t been there when we arrived?

Did they notice the dark smudges under his eyes from lack of sleep?

He was exhausted.

Of course, most of these nobles stayed up almost all night, every night, then slept half the day away, nursing hangovers and occasionally ill-advised affairs. Perhaps they thought nothing of a General who looked a little haggard around the edges.

Donavyn caught me staring and took a slow sip from his drink, his eyes staying on mine. ‘You feel… unhappy? Are you well?’

‘I’m fine. Only tired. And worried about you.’

His attention was taken then by the Lord next to him nudging and leaning in to ask a question. Donavyn didn’t respond to me, but he sent a wash of love and reassurance through the bond, which I returned.

“Are they all like him?” Grace asked me quietly.

I startled. “You mean, Donavyn?”

Grace nodded, then her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean—I have no designs on him, Bren. I only wondered… the men of your Furyknights. Perhaps it is Vosgaarde? I do not know, but they are… very alive.”

Her eyes had slipped past me to the ballroom behind me, and I turned to follow her gaze, only to find Ruin returning with a handful of the others, all drinking and red-faced, though Ruin’s gaze seemed as sharp as ever.

He caught my look before I could turn away, and he smiled—but then his eyes darted past me to Grace over my shoulder.

Burning with furious fear, I turned in my chair to face Grace, holding her arm and met her eyes as intently as Hanson had ever done with me.

“You must listen to me, Grace: He is not safe. Furyknight Ruin is… he has earned his name, you understand?”

“I know. You warned me. I believe you. I don’t want him, Bren,” she assured me, her hand on my forearm, patting like she’d soothe me. “Only… the men near you are dashing, and vital, and there is something among them that the men here in Fyrehold do not possess. I don’t know what it is, but I wondered if they are all that way, or if we are simply graced with the cream of the crop, as they would say?”

My breath rushed out of me. “Donavyn is a man above men,” I said sincerely. “Ruin is his opposite. Don’t be fooled by the outward appearance, Grace.”

“You misunderstand me,” she said with that small smile. “The handsomeness is appealing. But there are many handsome men in Fyrehold. It isn’t their faces or shoulders that draw me so much as their…” she trailed off, frowning. But to my horror, her eyes slipped back to Ruin as she considered the word she was looking for. “They are in possession of something—a confidence that does not come from wealth or birthright. They… know themselves?” she said, looking back to me for some kind of approval that I wasn’t sure whether to give.

She’d accurately described one of the things I’d always loved about Donavyn—and part of why he made me feel so safe. “Yes,” I said carefully. “But that assurance… that capability… unless it is applied to your protection, it can steal from you, Grace. Please. Promise me… Promise me you’ll be careful and you will never allow yourself to be alone with Ruin. He is not preferable to an old, boring man, I assure you. Promise me!” I hissed.

Her brows rose. “I give you my word, Bren. I believe you. I’m sorry if I made you uneasy. They are simply thoughts. You see? This is what my parents warned me about. I am simply thoughtless with my questions.”

“No, no, Grace. I just want you safe. That’s all.”

She smiled, but it looked more like a wince. “Thank you, my friend.”

I nodded and squeezed her hand. I thought she meant what she said. But I also suspected that she truly was sweet and good and easily wounded. And if she was growing desperate, a man like Ruin who used his power to manipulate would influence her quickly. The way she yearned for adventure and was drawn to someone dashing…

‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ Donavyn sent quickly.

‘I’m worried Grace might be enamored with Ruin,’ I reassured him. ‘She swears she’s not. But she admires both of you and she keeps asking questions… God, I want him away from her. I want him away from every woman!’

I didn’t like the burning rising in my chest at these thoughts, so I excused myself from Grace and made my way around the chairs towards the refreshment tables.

At this point in the evening when the nobles were mostly drunk, they usually waited for the servants to bring them drinks and food, so there were few people around the table, and none that I knew. I asked for a fresh cup of wine, then waited, my fingers playing on the tablecloth as I forced myself to breathe deeply and slowly as Voski had taught me when I needed to calm, or sleep.