Page 139 of Ashborne Forged

She turned her head to scowl at me. “Then why come to me at all? You’ve remained apart for all these years, why return now unless you were drawn. Please, Vane, stop with this posturing. We both know you’re desperate for my help.”

“I told you. I have grown. I would rather Breckon give her up, than that I take her and leave a messy trail.”

She huffed. “Ah yes, always coming to me to clean up your messes.”

I bristled. Alarm shrieked in my head. But I didn’t let her see my true weakness. Instead, I turned the next sip at my glass into a gulp, dropping the heavy tumbler to the sideboard, straight onto the varnished surface, with a clunk. Then I started for the door.

I only got three steps before she spoke.

“The wedding is scheduled for ten days from now. Breckon intends to spend the final week at the castle. Apparently, he’s determined to marry her whether she bleeds or not, though I know the man’s temper and do not envy her if he learns she’s truly carrying another man’s babe. You aren’t wrong that he’ll kill it. In any case, we’ll travel tomorrow, and arrive several days before the wedding. She’ll be freed by his death before the wedding day dawns.”

I whirled to face her. “I can kill him myself. There’s no subtlety in—”

She rolled her eyes. “During the festivities leading up to that happy occasion, I will prove to the king that his man is not loyal. The king will kill him. And your Lady will be free. Truly free,” she added pointedly. “At which point, I will approach her parents and put forward your case, as a noble son of the most powerful nation in the Territories. Your marriage will be honorable, visible, recognized. Thus, your child will be acknowledged by the blood. There will be no need to hide, no limit to which kingdom you can choose to make your residence, and no restriction on your travel, or joint position in society. And you, my son, will no longer need to work.”

I had to pretend that was what I truly wanted, and that I was torn by letting her give it to me, when I knew she’d use it as leverage.

When I didn’t respond, she smiled. “Trust me.”

“No.”

She sighed and shook her head. “Gods, Vane. Then, at least acknowledge that I have some power, and many wits, and whether you appreciate my means, or not, you are better off taking her in a legitimate union. Otherwise you will simply face a new contract, and another noble in a year’s time when the scandal has passed.”

That much was true, I knew. Grace’s family was truly noble. And though these events would mar her reputation, it would only be to a point if it was Breckon’s failing. With time—and her parents desperation for funds—someone else, likely another man with similar motives, would be convinced her name and bloodline were worth the initial blow to his reputation. And Fyrehold would continue to uphold any marriage contract she was tied to by her parents. Unless I publicly ruined her.

The idea was tempting, honestly. And I suspected Grace would be happy to allow herself to be removed from polite society, if it would free her future with me.

But, much as I hated to admit it, it would be better for Grace, and any children we might have, if she retained her rank and position. Even after she attained the Furyknight pin, she would be forced to ground if she got pregnant. If something happened to me, she was far safer with the net of the nobility behind her to keep her prosperous and friendly with those in power, and—oh dear God, I sounded like my mother.

I muttered a curse. “I’m not leaving this in your hands. I’m going after her.”

“They are already days ahead of us—they’ve been at his estate. You won’t reach the castle faster than I can get you there.”

“It’s days’ travel by horse—more in a carriage. Even if you have fresh teams and don’t stop—”

“We won’t be traveling by carriage, Vane.”

I went still. Finally. Finally. Trembling because the wash of jubilant triumph was almost too much to hope for, I turned to face her, making my expression shocked.

She smiled at me.

“You’ve got the dragons?” I breathed.

Her smile stretched wide and she took another sip of that blood-red wine.

46. Hollow Heart

~ VOSKI ~

That night, in the dark, I slipped through the shadows, senses pricked.

I’d kept my usual routine for the rest of the evening, sulking in her office for an hour, nursing a drink that I made her believe I consumed, rather than poured into the potted plant next to my chair. After she babbled about the travel, and I’d grunted my acquiescence long enough, I excused myself to go to bed, taking the exact route I did every night, and slamming my door, as if her foresight had offended me.

I even undressed and sat in my bed as I usually would. But instead of the inability to sleep because my skin crawled, I sat in silence, examining the sounds of the house slowly descending into sleep, counting the minutes until I was sure it would be safe to sneak out—and chewing my lip as I strategized.

I’d learned about the misused dragons when serving in Fyrehold, months earlier. The same trip during which I’d met Grace, though she’d met me as a servant of Donavyn and Bren’s rather than a Furyknight in my own right.

While there, I’d helped uncover an enemy scheme that spanned kingdoms—and recognized my mother’s handiwork in the coding system the fuckers used to communicate in secret. The Queen of Vosgaarde still worked to uncover the names of all the men involved in that wicked plot. But we’d believed them chased underground, and the dragons they’d enslaved, freed to become feral. In the process of eradicating their leaders, a massive herd of dragons had been drawn out of that slavery in Fyrehold. While they’d refused the invitation to join our herd as free, independent minds, when they’d flown off together, we’d assumed they would start their lives anew, hopefully building a healthy herd of their own.