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I lifted her knuckles to my lips. “You didn’t fail, Songbird. As I said.”
“Don’t be anI told you sokind of king.”
“But I did.”
Livia laughed. A true laugh, and I would kill anyone who tried to take such a sound from me.
Sobs from the people turned to cheers and praises and songs. We covered ground together, clearing away three knolls of the darkening before Livia lowered to her knees, and I fell back beside her, gasping, body aching.
“Larsson,” I said, and weakly waved him over to me when he stepped onto the shore. A man of jests and taunts, he looked down at me with a somber expression. “Tell the people . . . tonight we revel in the hall.”
He tipped the brim of his hat. “As you say, My King.”
I closed my eyes, grinning. For the first time in turns it felt as though I could take a damn breath.
“Livia,” I said through a pant. “Did you see anything? More thoughts when you connected to it?”
“Yes. The magic was potent today. I do believe this was caused bysomeone, not the earth. It was painful, as though it was a lash on the skin, an attack on the kingdom in a sense. But there was something else.” Her brow furrowed in disquiet. “I don’t know what to make of it.”
“What did you see?”
“More what I felt.” Livia dragged her bottom lip between her teeth. “Do you have a brother?”
Well, shit. “I don’t.”
She rubbed her forehead. “See, unreliable. There was this constant thought of the throne belonging to him. I don’t know who he is, but . . . Erik, you must promise me you will be wary.” Her eyes were round and pleading when she sat up. “I hate to say it, but what if someone caused a disaster like this all to take your crown?”
“Then they would not be the first.” I stood, desperate to hide my unease. If it was true, then I had an invisible enemy with a damn blood claim to the Ever.
* * *
Revels with the common people weren’t done beyond festivals, and we’d ceased with those after the darkening. There was nothing much to celebrate.
Unaccustomed to the flurry of drums, pipes, lyres, and laughter, part of me wanted to sink into the walls, but most of me was enraptured with the woman spinning about with Sewell in the center of the hall.
Livia’s hair spilled around her shoulders in dark waves, and the shimmer of laughter lived in her eyes when Sewell dipped her back, nearly toppling them both. She was a beacon through the dark. A beautiful distraction from blood claims and curses and enemies.
I abandoned the side of the hall. Tait and Larsson both made moves to follow, but I held up a hand. A hundred gazes burned into me; I only looked at Livia.
“Sewell.” I waited until he faced me. “Mind?”
For a pause, Sewell studied my open palm, then a sly kind of grin spread over his mouth. “Aye, little eel. Spin.”
The moment I’d stepped into the hall, the minstrels had slowed their playing, as though waiting for me to rage or end the revel. With a gentle tug I pulled Livia against me, and the music began again. Louder, with more spirit than before.
“Songbird.”
“Serpent.” She slid one arm around my shoulders. “I was beginning to think you did not know how to revel and intended to stand surly and aloof all evening.”
“I had planned exactly that.” Slowly, I drifted my fingertips along the divots of her spine. “Until I saw that Sewell made you laugh, and I felt more violent than anything.”
She chuckled. “Violent? I think you were jealous, Bloodsinger. As you should be. Sewell is my favorite.”
I touched my lips to the subtle point of her ear. “Not the thing a man wants to hear when he’s had his mouth on your body, dragging out those desperate sounds from your throat.”
Livia let out a warm breath against my neck. “Erik, don’t say those things.”
“Why not?” I dragged my nose across her smooth cheek.
