Page 97 of Whisper of Nightmares

She has not heard it before.

Yet there is not a doubt in her mind who it belongs to.

With a growl of disgust, Kelda smacks the papers back onto his chest. “Unbelievable.”

Percival fumbles to catch them. “You haven’t even read them⁠—”

“I don’t need to. I already know what the deed says. Rayner Varinsson conquered Thorfell Crag. When he did, he murdered the family living here, and then settled that debt with England with coin, as was the custom at the time. Now, I’m not saying what he did was right. But by the corrupt laws that be, these lands were declared his. Now they’re Dagfinn’s.”

“That was true,” Percival says softly. Almost tenderly. As though he actually cares. “Until I discovered something rather unusual.”

Euphemia feels Cybele shift beside her.

Kelda’s eyes narrow.

No one looks away from Percival.

He taps the paper against his palm. “You see, when they drafted the deed, they originally believed the family fully slain. However, new information has come to light, and they might not have been quite as extinct as we once believed.”

Suddenly, a name surfaces before Euphemia can stop it⁠—

Thurstan.

His complaints about stolen land. What Cybele said about him insisting the Varinsson family owed him something after they took Euphemia. And the older, respectable man Cybele saw him speaking to.

It couldn’t be a coincidence…

Could it?

To Euphemia’s dismay, Kelda actually looks concerned.

“Give me that,” she says, holding her hand out.

Percival returns the deed to her, a satisfied smirk twitching at the corners of his lips. “As you can see, the deed names the Varinssons as rightful owners on the condition that no surviving descendants can stake a claim.”

Kelda’s lightning spark eyes trace the words on the deed. And over. And over again.

Finally, she folds the deed back up. Returns it to Percival.

“So it’s come to this then? Blackmail?” Kelda snorts.

“My obligation, Kelda, is to see that any legitimate claim is properly investigated. Unless, of course, I were to have some personal stake in the matter. In such a case, I might be able to find a rather more…convenient solution.”

Kelda stares at him. “There it is.”

Percival blinks innocently. “There what is?”

“The part where you stop pretending this is about your duty.”

“I am merely suggesting that there are ways to make this unpleasantness disappear.”

“By marrying you.”

“I didn’t say that.” He smiles, a look that tries to be disarming but has the opposite effect. “But I, of course, would be elated to hear if you have reconsidered.”

Shaking her head, Kelda stares off down the corridor, toward Dagfinn’s tower.

Deeper into the heart of the home she has protected.