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“You’re not concealing anything from me, are you, Lord Heath?” he asked coldly. “It wouldn’t be the first time, would it?”
“Your Majesty?” Heath asked, startled.
“Or have I been misinformed?” King Matlock continued. “Have you not been keeping a potential threat secret from your king?”
Heath simply stared, his mouth hanging open like a fool. He couldn’t marshal a single word. How did the king know about the merpeople, and why did he think they were a threat? Had Brody or Bianca said something? But Heath couldn’t believe either of them would tattle on him to the crown, especially now, when they were all so angry with the royals. Or was Heath reading something into the king’s words? Was he referring to something else entirely?
“You have nothing to say, Lord Heath?” King Matlock pressed. Heath could feel Percival’s blankly astonished stare and Prince Lachlan’s expectant gaze drilling into him.
“Only that you have been misinformed, Your Majesty,” he said, as firmly as he could.
The king’s eyes seemed to darken, but he said nothing. “I suggest you both return to your home,” he said after an uncomfortable silence, his eyes passing between the brothers. “I will overlook your use of magic today, Lord Percival, given that you apparently used it in defense of your life. But going forward, I expect you to comply with the regulations.”
Percival swelled angrily, but King Matlock gave him no further opportunity to speak.
“Think carefully before taking any rash action to which I will be forced to respond.”
The words were clearly aimed at Percival, but his eyes lingered on Heath. There was no doubt Heath would hear more of whatever tale the king had been told regarding Merletta’s people.
The two of them strode out of the castle, Heath stunned, and Percival still fuming.
“What was that about, Heath?” he demanded, the moment they were clear of the building.
Heath just shook his head, at a loss for how to explain it to Percival without breaking his promise.
“You came down pretty hard on our harmless gathering,” said Percival bitingly, “but it seems you’re keeping secrets of your own.”
Heath made a helpless gesture, but Percival’s attention had already turned away from him.
“If he thinks I’m going to just let the attack go, he’s lost his mind.”
“Careful,” muttered Heath, glancing uneasily at the curious onlookers in the courtyard.
“No,” snapped Percival. “I’m done being careful.” And without a backward glance, he strode toward the stables.
Heath followed, an empty, hollow feeling in his stomach. He’d saved Percival’s life, and for that he was grateful, even if his brother wasn’t. But it didn’t mean Percival wasn’t in danger.
And now it seemed Merletta was under threat as well.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Merletta stared at the open water before her, focusing on the reassuring weight of her spear slung across her back.
“You can do this, Merletta. Have confidence in yourself.”
Merletta could feel that her answering smile was a little stiff, but she didn’t have room in her head for pretense right now. A couple of weeks ago she would have been bolstered by Freja’s praise. But since the overheard conversation in the training yard, she wasn’t sure what to think. And this wasn’t the moment to try to figure it out. She focused instead on the encouraging words with which her friends had sent her off, and on Heath’s stern command: don’t die.
That was the plan.
Unbidden, her thoughts flew to what had come before the command, but she shook off the pleasant memory. She’d spent way too much of her last week of preparation dwelling on that kiss—the gentleness of Heath’s lips, even while his embrace was delightfully possessive.
But she was doing it again. No matter how incredible that moment had been, she needed to be a warrior right now, not a lovesick dreamer.
“You know your task?” Freja asked, drawing her back to the moment.
Merletta nodded. “Follow the trail, leave my mark, retrieve the stolen item, add my name, and return to the Center in one piece before the sun sets,” she recited.
“That’s right,” said Freja approvingly.
