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Tyr had only met Magda Wynter a handful of times, and they’d never had a conversation beyond dry pleasantries. Ana never wanted to talk about her stepmother.
He’d never told anyone how the woman gave him the dark chills.
“Sorry, Magda. I...” Ana’s voice turned shrill and anxious as she divided her focus between Tyr and her stepmother. Her face had lost all color.
“And who’s this?” Magda asked. Her plump mouth spread into a broad grin. It unsettled him so much, he had to remind himself that the urge to run from a harmless woman was silly.
“Tyreste Penhallow, ma’am,” he said, his eyes flicking toward Ana as he extended a hand that the woman looked at but didn’t take. “We’ve, ah, met before.”
“Penhallow.” Magda’s nose curled upward in disgust. “Taverners. What would your father think, Anastazja?”
“My father loves all our people equally,” Ana muttered with a defiant scowl. She winced seconds later though, and Magda noted it with a slow smile, crushing Ana’s mischief in an instant. Tyr’s confusion grew. “Anyway, we hardly know one another. He was just—”
“I wanted to know if the broth was any good,” Tyr stated, cutting in quickly. “I’ve never had it before.”
“Nor has she, I should think,” Magda said, the corner of her lip tugging upward. “But go on, Ana, tell us about the broth.”
Sheer, untampered panic spread across Ana’s features, tightening around her eyes and mouth, and Tyr knew, finally, the source of her fear. Thewhywas a mystery too big for a crowded market and a fraught exchange.
“Another time,” he said with what he hoped was a polite smile and not a reflection of his own unease. “I have to get back to my mother and sister before they purchase all the rhubarb in the Cross.”
Magda smiled thinly and wrapped her arm around Ana’s waist, waiting for him to leave.
He caught Ana’s eyes as he turned, and what he saw behind her gaze filled him with equal parts hope and despair.
She wasn’t afraid for herself.
She was terrified. Forhim.
The last thing he heard was Magda hissing, “Is it him? Is he the one who’s turned you into an insolent brat?”
Tyr forced himself to keep walking, cursing his cowardice at every step.
“Well?” Magda’s soft facade cracked, revealing the koldyna’s true form. Ana’s heart lit up in hope thatsomeonemight notice, but the veil of deception returned. “Is he the one?”
Ana’s mouth flapped in a useless attempt at rebuttal. Her eyes followed Tyreste, a foolish misstep that had Magdaahhing.“I hardly know him.”
“I have seen through every lie you have told me. What makes you think I cannot see through this one?” Magda seemed taller, wider. Her presence was like standing under shade when all Ana wanted was the sun.
Ana shook her head as she flailed for something close enough to the truth to appease her stepmother but far enough away to protect Tyreste. “The truth is...” She rolled her eyes in mock disgust, ridding her thoughts of Tyreste’s soft dark hair, his mahogany eyes that made her knees weak when he trained them on her. “He’s sweet on me, and I made the mistake of giving in to his affection a couple of times. Now he’s acting like we’re betrothed.”
Magda cackled and licked her lips. Villagers milled around in the background, going about their morning business, oblivious to the horror transpiring in the middle of the market. “I can solve that trouble for you, girl. All you need to do is ask.”
“It’s not necessary,” Ana said. “I think he understands now.” She breathed out slowly. “I was just returning home.”
“Another lie!” Magda’s mouth hung wide through a protracted head shake. She ripped open Ana’s cloak and gave the bag of broth a shake. “You don’t think I know where you’re taking this?”
“I—”
“Well, get on with it then!” Magda released the bag and stepped back. She flexed her bony fingers and tucked her hands inside her own cloak. “Wouldn’t want him to starve.”
Ana was dumbstruck. She’d assumed Magda knew she’d been taking Varradyn food and drink, but her encouragement was unexpected. “Youwantme to feed him?”
“Of course I do.” Magda snorted. “Won’t do at all for him to perish before he’s served his purpose.”
Ana’s heart choked in her throat, but a bold stroke of courage forced her words forth. “What purpose is that, Magda?”
“There is no equity in our relationship, Anastazja. No balance, no tipping point where I determine you a worthy equal. Our arrangement is quite simple, isn’t it? You help me, and your father and brother live.”
