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Especially not Tyrell.
Fates. It all made so much sense. Why Henri hadn’t argued Grayson’s attachment to Mia all these years. He’dencouragedit, in his own sick, twisted way. And it made sense why he’d pushed Tyrell toward her, too. Somehow, he’d known Tyrell would want her.
Henri always seemed to know.
Grayson fought a shudder. He didn’t know if it was caused by his thoughts, or the fever he suspected he had.
Without warning, the door opened, and Grayson stared as Captain Reeve entered the room.
The man’s presence was unexpected. Grayson hadn’t seen the young captain since he’d left for Mortise. Reeve was a few years older than Grayson, with a strong jaw and handsome features. His uniform fit him well, his eyes were iced with a fervor that came only from a soldier desperate to prove himself indispensable. Months ago, when they’d gathered taxes from the remote villages in the northern mountains, Grayson knew Reeve had been sent to spy on him. To judge his loyalty to the crown. He had nearly caught Grayson when he’d helped a widow and her two young children escape arrest. Grayson had also saved Reeve’s life on that trip. At the time, he’d wondered if it would change anything between them. Create a sense of loyalty, or even a debt.
Looking at him now, Grayson doubted it.
Reeve pushed the door closed and inclined his head. “Prince Grayson.”
“I’m waiting for Commander Zaden,” Grayson said, forgoing any greeting.
“I know,” Reeve said. “I’m supposed to meet with him, too. I’ve been appointed to First Captain in his army.”
Grayson’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s quite the advancement.”
Reeve’s gaze strayed to the flaming side of Grayson’s face. “Did the Mortisians do that?”
“No.” Grayson didn’t expound. Partly because he owed this man nothing, but mostly because talking hurt, and the pain seemed to be building.
Reeve straightened. “How do you find the king’s armies?”
“Younger than expected.”
Something sparked in the young captain's eyes. “There will be no mistaking the victor in the coming war,” he said.
“I remember how much you’ve looked forward to this war.”
“Yes. My grandfather would be proud of my command.”
He probably would have been. The man had been a hero in the infamous Battle of the Sine years ago. In reality, it had been a massacre of innocents; an entire city had been condemned for unknowingly harboring Mortisian spies. No one had been allowed to live.
Reeve shifted his weight. “There are rumors sweeping the camp. About you and Prince Liam. They say he died in Mortise.”
Grayson said nothing.
Reeve must have read confirmation in his silence, because he swore and shook his head. “It’s lucky you escaped.” His eyes darted again to the burn on his face.
Grayson gritted his teeth. He didn’t like the staring. “Do you enjoy serving under Commander Zaden?” he asked, forcing himself to speak. Anything to distract Reeve.
“Serving under him is a privilege,” Reeve said at once. “He’s a hero. That he chose me to be First Captain . . . It’s a huge honor.”
It almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself, which drew Grayson’s attention. There was a sense of disquiet about Reeve, and it dampened his old zealousness. He looked a little less like the perfect soldier Grayson had known. Whether it was due to the treatment of the young boys outside or a disagreement with Zaden’s reputed brutality, Grayson didn’t know.
Or maybe Grayson was giving him too much credit.
In the end, it didn’t really matter. It wouldn’t change anything. Reeve was First Captain, and he would resolutely follow that path. He’d dedicated his life to this. He wouldn’t stop now.
“Fair warning,” Reeve said. “Zaden will not accept anything less than complete loyalty. Try to make sure there are no . . . incidents.”
He was clearly talking about Grayson defending the Hogan family. What Graysondidn’tknow was if his words were a threat, or if Reeve was actually attempting to warn him.
Before Grayson could decide, Commander Zaden entered the room.
