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“I’ll tell him. But go easy on the lads, Corvan. They’re just kids. We both know what it’s like to be young and stupid.”
A faint smile crosses my lips as I remember our first encounter. Kaithar was one of the most promising recruits the Academy had seen in a while. Young, dangerous, and cocky. Physically gifted. An absolute terror on the training ground. And he didn’t like me because he thought I was arrogant.
He’s always been a good judge of character.
I smile. “I just want to get to know my future brothers-in-law.”
“Hmph. Anything else I can do for you, Your Highness?”
“Send a man to Sanzar. I need a drink in the form of a woman’s blood. Any woman will do, but she should be of child-bearing years, and preferably in the middle of her cycle. Give her ataelinfor her trouble.”
Kaithar’s eyes widen. “I thought you’d sworn against doing that kind of thing. And you’ve gother,now. Are you, uh… troubled by the thirst again?”
“Not at all. But I have my reasons. Don’t ask, Kaith. Just get it done.”
Now that I’ve tasted heaven, I need to know if anything else compares.
The darkness in me already knows it won’t.
22
FINLEY
In the warm bedchambers, drenched in gentle afternoon light, I lie cocooned in soft silken sheets and toasty bedcovers. The mattress is impossibly comfortable, cradling my weary bones.
I’m exhausted. Confused. Wracked with worry and a little afraid.
And there’s something else. A certain giddiness. Because ofhim.
My fatigue evaporates. I slide out of bed, feeling restless, wondering what I should do. Check on the boys? Explore the castle?
I should visit my brother first. Then, I’ll go to the stables and check on the poor old quarter horse that saved Aderick’s life. That’s what I’ve wanted to do all along—before we were so rudely interrupted by father’s arrival.
A knot forms in my chest. Corvan locked my father in his dungeons. Father, who always seemed so big and intimidating; whose presence made me so tense and anxious…
To a man like Corvan Duthriss, he’s probably no more significant than an insect. A small, wicked part of me hopes he’ll stay locked down there forever—until he dies. And I suspect Corvan wouldn’t bat an eyelid if I asked him to keep him there.
But I should probably vouch for him more, if only for the sake of our family.
As I slide my feet into a pair of fur-lined slippers, I hear a gentle knock on the door. My heart flutters. What if it’shim?
“Come in,” I say loudly.
The door opens. A familiar figure enters. A small puff of relief escapes my lips, contradicting the tinge of disappointment.
It isn’thim.
It’s Gerent, accompanied by no less than four young men wearing servants’ uniforms. They’re hardly past their teenage years—lean, fresh-faced, and clean-shaven with neatly trimmed hair and impeccably tailored suits.
Their arms are laden with packages—flat boxes, large velvet bags, mysterious items wrapped in paper.
“Goodness,” I exclaim. “What’s all this, now?”
“Good afternoon, my lady.” Gerent bows. “Please excuse our intrusion. We have brought a curation of items from the finest tailors, seamstresses, jewellers, and bootmakers in Sanzar. As they haven’t yet had a chance to take your measurements, there are a range of sizes for you to try on. I hope some of these will be to your liking. Micah, Lyell, Rosven, and Daron will unpack and present the items for your perusal. Would you like them to remain and assist, or would you prefer to browse in privacy?”
I look at the young servants; at their carefully neutral expressions, at the lavish piles of mysterious, perfectly packaged items.
I frown. I’m not used to such extravagance. Did Corvan have something to do with this, or did Gerent just go overboard?
