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“She died of old age.”

“I see.” I glanced at Kyllen, who was now engaged in a conversation with Udren. They were talking about the latest hunt of the High Lord. Apparently, hunting was Udren’s favorite pastime. He refused to give it up, even as he spent the hunting trips in a chair now.

Did Kyllen know that Udren married his bride-to-be? Did he care? From what he’d told me back at the menagerie, he held no special feelings for the woman who was meant to be his wife. However, knowing his possessive nature, I wondered if it irked him that his brother had taken his betrothed, too, while he was gone.

Lady Igaed turned to Kyllen.

“What are you planning to do now that you’re back, Lord Kyllen?” She asked the question I sensed was on the minds of many people present.

Kyllen flashed her a smile. “Make my father proud, of course.”

The High Lord leaned forward and said quietly enough for only the five of us at the head of the table to hear, “Useless endeavor, brother. I spent centuries trying to impress our father while he was still alive, and I failed. Don’t waste your life trying to do the same now that he’s dead.”

Kyllen silently raised his glass to his lips for a sip of wine.

Lady Igaed flicked her fingers, clicking the many rings she wore against each other. “The best way to honor your ancestors is by keeping this family united.”

Kyllen set his wine glass on the table. “I have no intention of tearing it apart.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Intentions matter, but it’s your actions that will have consequences.”

“The wise thing would be for you to wait your turn,” Bherlon blurted out.

By that, Bherlon clearly meant for Kyllen to get behind him in the line of succession to the High Lord’s throne.

Kyllen leaned back in his chair and casually popped a couple of frog eggs into his mouth.

“My turn is now,” he said matter-of-factly.

Bherlon’s eyes flashed with a hot temper, sending a chill down my spine. Other than that one spark, however, the lord’s expression remained cold. Calculating. Which seemed even more menacing than an outburst would’ve been.

“You will not displace my father.” Bherlon’s words sounded like a threat.

“Some things may be negotiated.” Kyllen shrugged.

Despite his easy manner, tension stretched between him and his nephew like a string ready to snap. The air crackled with it like electricity before the storm.

Udren shifted uneasily. “Later. All of that can be discussed and decided later.” He raised his wine glass, his hand shaking either from age or nerves, or both. “Tonight, we’ll celebrate.”

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