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Perhaps not entirely contained.
“Scheming bastard,” Mehl muttered as he finally tore his gaze away from the paper. “He truly didn’t intend to keep either of you alive.”
Lady Gartren twisted her hands together. “You see why I had to bring it? And there’s more. So much more. Enough that perhaps my family should be—”
“No,” Mehl interrupted. “You have earned much by delivering this at such potential cost to yourself. Please, return to your manor in peace. If the rest of these letters are as valuable as the first, Toren may very well reward you for this. However, it is best not to test remaining here for long, considering the current edict.”
As Gartren curtsied and gave her assent, a servant appeared to escort the lady out. Tes longed to tap her foot with impatience—or perhaps rip the letters away and read them herself. Anything to ease the restlessness building inside her. She knew of her father’s twisted plans, but something in her longed to see more evidence. Some final, irrefutable bit of truth.
The door had barely closed before Mehl handed her that very thing.
H—
You need only tolerate your dark prince for a handful of decades. Once the child is firmly in hand, you may kill Ber yourself. But I warn you, you must stop pushing your own daughters at Toren if you wish to remain allies with me. Any child of his would ruin our entire plan. Unless you wish to murder your own grandchild?
If you go back on your word, I will slaughter your entire bloodline.
-R
The last sentence hardened the lump that had been building in her throat. Her father wrote so easily of murder. And he would have done it, too. One wrong move would have seen the Hesslefyn family killed to the last infant. Her heart thumped at the mental image. Anything resembling betrayal would prompt…
“The innocent members of that duchy need extra guards,” Tes said.
Mehl nodded. “Already ordered.”
Ber’s hand settled on her waist as he leaned over to read the letter, and his soft curse ruffled the hair beside her ear. “It isn’t a surprise, and yet it is. Offering my life to the duke like a prize…”
“It’s obscene,” Mehl said. “All of it. And I’m sure that the rest of these letters will not be any better.”
Her husband nodded. “It was foolish of Hesslefyn to keep them. I don’t understand it.”
Tes had an idea of why now that she’d read the first letter. As she folded the parchment and placed it carefully atop the stack, she let her suspicions free. “He wasn’t committed to my father’s plan, so he kept the letters as blackmail.”
Mehl’s brows drew together. “He was caught hiring assassins to try to murder us.”
“Yes, that’s true,” Tes said, rubbing the back of her neck with a weary hand. “But he was also encouraging Toren to choose one of his daughters, wasn’t he? That suggests he had his own ideas about how to claim the Llyalian throne, and he was willing to risk my father’s wrath to pursue them. He must have thought the letters could help.”
“I suppose that’s possible,” Mehl conceded. Then he gathered the bundle and tucked it into a pocket of his tunic. “He was the type to have multiple plots in play. Regardless of his intentions, it’s to our benefit. We’ll be able to gather our allies more easily with proof like this, and if we’re lucky, at least one letter will prove perfect for convincing the Centoi court.”
Gods, she hoped so. It was impossible to know the current state of her home, but she felt certain her father would do his best to cast doubt upon her and Ber—if not call them traitors outright. The right piece of evidence would provide the perfect reason for her husband’s attack on the king.
“Perhaps I should help sort them,” Tes said.
Ber tucked her closer against his side until their son squirmed a little against her arm. “You don’t want to do that, love. Trust me.”
It was difficult to glare at him with Speran tucked so cutely against his chest, but Tes managed it. “Enough trying to protect me. I can handle his vile words.”
“Of course you can,” Ber retorted at once. “But why should you have to? Most of it will concern plots against Llyalia, and I’m sure Toren or one of the others will share anything relevant with you.”
Mehl nodded. “Naturally.”
Part of her wanted to argue—the rest of her was simply tired. Her long hours of sleep hadn’t managed to restore the energy she’d lost transporting her and Ber back to Llyalia, and she was emotionally and physically exhausted, besides. Why add to the strain by sorting through her own father’s perfidy for hours on end?
“I think I would prefer to rest before dinner,” Tes said. “As I’m certain we’ll be expected after Toren’s announcement.”
The king gave a sympathetic grimace. “Yes, I imagine so.”
Tes sighed. She could have done without another spectacle.
