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“Alrighty then,” Lyric spoke. “Apologies for the delay. I trust you’ve met everyone?”
My father inclined his head. “We have, my lady.”
“Just Lyric, please, especially in this room.”
“As you wish.”
“Now, I must admit, Brokk, I’m not up to speed on the nature of your relationship with my family.”
“Your family?”
“Everyone in this room I consider family.” Her eyes hardened on each of them. “Yet myfamilyhasn’t told me jack shit about you. They said they couldn’t.”
“That would be my fault. They’re bloodbound not to speak of me to anyone outside of, well, thegroupwe’d formed for lack of a better word. Not without my permission.”
“Ugh,” she groaned. “Stupid blood oaths. When will people learn to stop making them? They always lead to trouble.”
I caught myself flinching. Draven’s eyes narrowed and the faintest hint of magic brushed me. My breath caught.
“So maybe you could grant them permission?” Lyric asked.
“Just for today,” Father smiled, “if you promise to keep things to yourself. There are many who would pay good coin for information about me so I try to keep a low profile. No blood oath necessary, of course.” No one with half a conscience would put an expectant mother in such a position.
Lyric agreed and Father launched into a brief history of how he’d met Draven traveling along the Pale River back when the male was trying to gather an army to challenge the previous Shadow Lord. Father, who believed in their cause, had joined them and helped turn the tide with his added forces. I didn’t know all the details, but I knew they’d grown close during that time in the way brothers in arms so often do.
“You, uh, have your own army?” Lyric queried.
“No. I have a territory in the northern Faelands where I take in what you might call strays. Most of them are fae and have been decommissioned from the Queen’s service. Some are simply outcasts who have nowhere to go. They all work for me.”
“Doing what?”
“Hired guns,” Draven answered for him.
“Hired security,” Father corrected. “Mainly, we escort seabound trading ships who wish to arrive at their destination without incident. We can do the same on land, but water is my specialty.”
“And don’t forget the hired recon you do,” Phalen added.
“Not for anyone with nefarious intentions or that could do serious harm with the information.”
Draven’s grin was knowing when he asked, “And what of The Navita’s intentions with that information?”
Father’s shrug was casual. “Information is a powerful weapon.”
“The Navita?” Lyric puzzled, picking up her glass and taking a drink.
“That’s my father’s nickname,” Kol stated proudly. “It means TheSeaman.”
Lyric spat her drink out across the table, coughing and sputtering. Phalen and Talia cackled gleefully. Emile covered his face. I didn’t dare look at Kree, fearing the kindhearted female might have been scandalized.
“Every godsdamned time! Shit like this is said out loud only when I’m the one taking a drink!” Lyric blustered between coughs, earning a humored look and some pats on the back from her mate.
I leaned closer to Kol. “You should start translating that to mean The Sailor or Seafarer. Maybe The Captain.”
“The Sailor and The Seafarer sound like they’re weaklings. TheSeamanis powerful.”
“Oh my god,” Lyric cried, knuckles wiping under her eyes. “Please stop. I’ll either die or go into labor right now if you keep saying that word.”
“Why?” Kol inquired innocently. “Are you allergic or something?”
