Page 60 of Winter Gods & Serpents

Leaning over to his ear I said, “One raven is sorrow. That was for telling my father about the Islines, you fink.”

He groaned and attempted to straighten. “He knew Snowlin, my soldiers reported back at him the moment they saw you up there and so had Casmere when you didn’t show up for the patrol.”

Of course my father was keeping detailed eye on me.

“Tell me Elias, what the heavens and hells is happening there? I know there are no Isjordians attacking the north.”

I’d veered my patrol the second I’d caught rumour of the vandal attacks. I’d done it to piss father off after his soldier had almost imprisoned me in my quarters after the attack, but stumbled upon a strange discovery.

He glanced nervously around the corridor and warned, “Keep it to yourself is all I have to say to you, do not let your father find out.”

“Is that why he is trying so hard to keep me away from there? Because he doesn’t want me to find out?”

He’d forbid me from tending anywhere near the Islines, something about a poor excuse the Isline Krigborn could target me. The mountain wolves could care more for rabbits than a royal with soiled blood that couldn’t even become heir.

He straightened, diverting attention around the corridor and to the sentries posted by the dinning doors. “That is all I can say without betraying an oath to my king.”

“Sworn to a serpent, an oath made to hells.”

“It is my kingdom, my people, my lands.”

“Your burden to bear then, when he uses fools as yourself blinded by an empty oath to raise hells in his name, all the life that will be lost will be yours to repent for.”

“He is my king,” he argued, as though it made sense.

“And death is our fate, yet we fight every day to live.”

He sighed given up and offered politely, “If they attempt anything funny, you know where to find me.”

“If you think I will waste your debt to me with requests of the sort, you’re wrong,” I said, sliding past him.

* * *

Through the whole breakfast my father and the rest just stared at me in silence as I ate. I knew they too had grown uneasy at the arrival of the Adriatians, especially my father who had not thoroughly thought his plan through and underestimated just how much more spiteful than him I was.

“Happy with your choice?” he asked in what looked like vexation.

Flashing him a tight-lipped smile I said, “Ecstatic.”

He leaned back assessing me and the truthfulness of my words for a moment before ordering, “The men you caught up north will be handled by one of the Generals, you are not to question them.”

“I caught them.”

“In my lands,” he argued strongly. “You are not to question them, understood?”

“I ignored you just fine the first time, no need to repeat.”

His eyes widened and his tone flared higher. “You have no more business up north, disobey me and you won’t go unpunished.”

Ah, but see now it changes. He really wanted to keep me away from there, that meant something was definitely not as seen and he was adamant on me not knowing the truth.

“As if you can stop me,” I murmured, chewing on my fruit.

His fist hit the table loudly dispersing tiny ice shards that knocked food all over, one had sent a scratch bleeding on my cheek. This over display of power was beginning to tire me out.

Fren pathetically squealed at the splashes of tea staining her dress, the rest of the table turning rigid in attention to me and my father.

“Silas, let her eat,” Moreen interrupted our stare down.