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Though he loves me, my brother is not particularly affectionate. Of the three of us, Fara was the warmest. Always hugging, even when decorum was required. She was like Mother in that way, whereas Warin and I are more like our father.

“I love you, Reyne. Know that, above all.”

“You’re acting strangely, Warin, and I would know the reason.”

He glances over my shoulder, then squeezes my hands and releases them.

“Walk with me this way,” he says, his tone a little strained now. “Quickly.”

I do as he asks, but he’s mistaken if he believes I’ll allow him to change the subject so easily.

“What was that . . . ?”

Warin shakes his head. “Later. Look in the direction of the market.”

I do as he asks, finally understanding. Someone is behind us, someone whose conversation Warin wishes to overhear. He points as if explaining something to me but says nothing.

I do not know who stands behind us, but I can hear their words clearly. Both are men, their voices unfamiliar.

“Before the melee,” one says.

“He will be there?” his companion replies.

“Aye.”

“Is it not risky, coming here?”

“Not as risky as inaction. Now is the time to strike.”

The men grow quiet. And then, the voices are gone.

“Come. We must talk to Father,” Warin says, turning about and walking toward the lists. There’s no sign of the men whose conversation we overheard. I try to look for them, but Warin stops me.

“Don’t look. I think they grew suspicious.”

My brother is fairly running now.

“They?”

As we continue moving forward, hustling at an uncomfortable pace, Warin explains.

“One of those men was with Lord Rawlins earlier, just before the Triumph. They looked suspicious enough that I sent my page to listen to their conversation.”

“Do you make a practice of eavesdropping?”

Warin rolls his eyes at me. “You know I do not. But Rawlins cannot be trusted. Father does not like or trust the man. He’s both Borderer and Highlander, and some resent him for attempting to be both.”

Something I’ve never quite been able to understand.

“Are we not all one? Meria is the enemy, aye? Why must we fight each other?”

I lift my skirts as Warin increases his pace.

“We’ve different interests. Borderers would have us fighting always with Meria.”

A fact I know well, for they are constantly trying to pull Father into their battles.

“They accuse us of lending support to Meria by our inaction.”