Page 72 of The Fox Heir

“And what of Fennec, the new heir?”

Hunter shrugs. “He’s just a footnote in the king’s new tale. The Dead Queen and her Wolf stole you, the heir to the Fox Throne. He’s out for blood.” He scrunches his face. “More than usual, at any rate.”

I pause, thinking. “None of this makes any sense. He hates me. He tried to kill me. He made Fennec his heir.”

Hunter shakes his head. “Maybe in writing, but few people know that. All the Llwyn people know is the Wolf stole you away on the eve of our wedding. And your father will murder every last person in Annwyn to get you back.”

My brain is humming with adrenaline. “But he doesn’t want me back. Not really.”

“No. But he does want to kill the Dead Queen. I don’t think any of us truly knows why.”

I might, but I’m not sure it’s the right time to tell Hunter this. Nothing could be more humiliating to my father than a woman outfoxing the Fox King. This fight has little to do with me. My father will stop at nothing to get revenge.

My stomach roils just thinking of all the Llwyn soldiers dying on the borderlands. I’ve seen enough of them to last a lifetime, and yet my father sends more. It’s too much to think about right now.

I turn the conversation back to Hunter. “None of that explains why you presumably stole a ship and sailed north in the middle of winter.”

“The Spires are impassable this time of year. The sea was my only shot.”

“And the men? The ship?”

“Let’s just say I knew a few people who owed me favors from my time on the King’s Guard.”

“Sailors?”

“Pirates.”

“Ah.”

He looks toward the window, at a rising storm that has finally made its way past the enchanted border.

“But, why did you think I needed saving to begin with?” I ask. “I went into Annwyn willingly. You were there, you know that.”

He drags his gaze away from the window reluctantly, landing on mine. His warm brown eyes are sad. “I didn’t come here to save you from the Wolf, Sienna. I came here to warn you.”

“Warn me?”

“Your father’s men are camped at the foot of the Spires. Ready to march here the second the roads are passable. He knows where you are, Sienna.”

I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. They won’t get past the border. The Annwyn people have been protecting the border for centuries⁠—”

“And losing territory by the year.”

“They won’t get past the Spires.”

Hunter levels his brown eyes on me. “This time, they will. He brought the Fox Army, Sienna. All of it.”

The news settles on my shoulders, cold and heavy. As isolated as I’ve been out here in Gwyllion, I actually managed to feel safe this far out of my father’s reach. I should have known better. Nowhere is safe from the Fox King.

Behind us, the door opens. Instinctively, I stuff the little green book into the pocket of my red cloak, to keep it out of sight. I don’t know why, but something tells me this isn’t the sort of book that should be left out for anyone to see.

We both turn to see Nalina step in, her face grave. Her brown leathers are dusty and her blond braid is frizzy. I wonder if she’s been in the training yard, hitting things.

“Good. You’re awake,” she says. She doesn’t sound glad.

I stiffen.

Hunter sits up. “Yes. Thank you for your hospitality.”