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“What?” He sends me a confused glance. “What for?”
“For caring, even if you do it because Luka would kill you if you didn’t.” We mount the stairs to the entrance to the Great Hall and I put my finger to my lips, telling him to stay quiet if we don’t want to get caught.
We do indeed slip inside unseen. Everyone is facing the dais, where Luka sits alone, sprawled in his chair, an elbow planted on one of the arm rests. He’s the very image of casual arrogance and power, wearing that look of impatience I know so well. In front of him, a man pleads his case.
“My deve,” he says respectfully. “I’ve lost seven sheep and one of my own dogs since I was here at the last new moon.”
“At which time,” Luka drawls, “I told you to pierce the mongrels’ hides with arrows when you catch them on your land.”
“But I’m not a good enough shot. And if I get too close, I fear they’ll attack me.”
Luka sighs heavily.
“I’m but a sheep farmer, my deve.”
“Arkon Addir step forward,” Luka orders and a man saunters into the circle as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Your mutts are getting on my nerves. If you cannot control them, they’ll be put down.”
“My brother is a member of the Range, and he assures me that –”
“Ralton is your brother?”
“He is.”
My stomach dips when the man doesn’t add the required honorific at the end of his sentence. Luka’s head tilts ever so slightly at the insult. Though his features remain blank, I know Luka’s moods, and his temper is on the brink of getting the better of him.
To my surprise, he only lifts a finger, beckoning a warrior forward. “Since Ralton is on rotation at the river and he can’t be ordered to put the dogs down himself, I want you to take three men and ride out there. Talk to the neighbors. See what’s going on. But get this solved.”
“Yes, Deve.”
The dog owner begins to sputter something, but Noé emerges from the crowd, drawing his dagger. Silence falls and the man melts back into the throng without another word.
“Bron,” Luka gripes. “Who’s next?”
Over the course of the next hour, my respect for Luka grows with every case he hears. He doesn’t lose his temper, he doesn’t insult anyone, and though I can tell nothing would make him happier, he doesn’t maim a single person.
Chapter 18
Luka
Halfway through this torture session, I catch sight of her, standing near the main doors with Ion. Yes, I’m annoyed on principle by her presence, especially since the crowd could turn on her, but curiously, her presence is also grounding. Often I lose my shit during mediation, but this time, I keep my head throughout the entire process. It might have to do with hating the thought of her thinking less of me. Or it might have to do with having every intention of using her sweet mouth as a reward for my good behavior.
“Bron?” I ask when another complaint is dealt with.
“That was the last one, my deve.”
“Thank fuck.”
I jump down and march into the crowd, murmurs of surprise rising up around me. Rina’s smile triggers some kind of primal instinct in me as I dip down and carefully press my shoulder to her middle, hoisting her over my shoulder, uncaring of the ramifications.
“Luka,” she shrieks, her voice ringing with laughter. “What are you doing? Put me down!”
I head outside and her protests continue, filling the courtyard. Not even the agog expressions coming from every direction are enough to dull my enjoyment. I think I may even be wearing a smile.
She pushes up on my lower back, and still giggling, insists, “At least tell me where we’re going.”
“To the hot springs. I wish to bathe.” We pass through the main gates and take the worn foot path heading east. Out here, the absence of stares loosens something in my chest and I haul in a very satisfying breath of crisp winter air.
“Really, Luka,” she says. “I can walk. Please. Your shoulder is like a boulder.”
