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She grinned as Morven’s eyes narrowed on the leather-bound notebook, and she flashed him the first page, where her father’s distinctive handwriting was visible. He’d know it well, as the two old losers communicated mostly through written letters, since Avallen had no computers. “You let us stay here and it’s yours when we leave.”
Morven’s fingers drummed on the arm of his throne. Fish on a line.
But he said, shadows lightening at last, “Your presence here threatens to bring the Asteri’s wrath upon me.”
Bryce considered, blinking. “Well, it seems you’ve got no problem harboring fugitives, if you’re letting in Flynn’s parents.”
He glared, pure darkness in his eyes.
Bryce went on, “I mean, you could probably make up for Cormac’s dishonor by selling us out to the Asteri … but if you hand us over, you’d have to turn in Flynn’s parents and the other nobles, too. And I doubt it’d win you any points with your own people if you betrayed some fancy-ass nobles.” She crossed her arms. “You’re in a real pickle, huh?”
Morven tapped his booted foot on the ground.
“It’s super hard,” Bryce commiserated, “to try to play both sides, isn’t it?”
“I am not playing either side,” Morven said. “I am loyal to the Asteri.”
“Then open the mists—invite them here. Let’s have them over for brunch.”
Morven’s silence was damning.
Bryce smiled. “I thought so.” She nodded to Sathia. “One more thing: she doesn’t marry anyone, and she comes with us.”
Sathia gaped at Bryce. But Bryce threw the Fae female a warning look. Bryce had only seen Sathia Flynn from a distance at parties. Usually, the female’s hair was dyed varying shades of shining dark brown or blond. Now her locks were an ordinary light brown—her natural color, perhaps. It was like seeing a glimpse of the real female beneath.
“I cannot allow that,” Morven said. “She is an unwed female.”
“Her brother is here,” Bryce said, nodding to Flynn. “Irresponsible party boy that he is, at least he has the parts that matter to you.”
Flynn glared, but Dec elbowed him hard enough that he stepped up and said, “I’ll, uh, take responsibility for Sathia.”
Sathia bristled like an angry cat, but kept her mouth shut.
“No,” Morven said, a shadow wrapping itself around his wrist like a bracelet. An idle, bored bit of magic. “You are an unsuitable chaperone, as you have demonstrated time and again.”
Hunt gave Bryce a look, and she knew what he was thinking. It was the same thing Ruhn said into her mind a heartbeat later:
As much as it kills me to say this … we might have to let this go. Sathia is Flynn’s sister and all, but it’s not our battle to fight.
Bryce subtly shook her head. You really want to leave her to Morven’s mercy?
Trust me, Bryce, Sathia can handle herself.
But Bryce glanced back at Lidia, who’d been watching all this with a cold, clear focus. Staying completely silent in that way of hers that made others forget her presence. Even Morven, it seemed, hadn’t noticed who stood in his throne room—because he now let out a low grunt of surprise at the sight of her.
Yet the Hind met Bryce’s gaze. What would you do? Bryce tried to convey.
Lidia seemed to grasp the general direction of her thoughts, because she said quietly, “I never had anyone to fight for me.”
Well, that did it.
Bryce opened her mouth, rallying power to her star, but Tharion spoke from behind them.
“I’ll marry Sathia.”
* * *
It took Hypaxia seven hours, seven minutes, and seven seconds to raise Sigrid.
