Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
“That’s good, right?” I glance his way as we enter the deserted sparring gym. “And you didn’t answer my question.”
“Talk to your brother first.” He folds his arms when we reach the edge of the first row of mats, where Brennan waits. As the others join us, we form a loose circle.
That doesn’t bode well. Anxiety coils in my stomach like a snake poised to strike as I take in the older riders’ somber expressions across from us.
Aaric slides his hands into his pockets at my left. “Let me guess. Halden complicated negotiations?”
I fucking blanch.
“Your brother certainly didn’t help,” Lewellen notes, scratching the bristles along the underside of his jaw.
“Halden’s here?” I manage to ask.
“Rode in this morning with a company from the Western Guard.” Aaric shoots me a knowing look, which I return with a quick glare.
“Great.” His temper is the last thing we need at the negotiating table.
Mira studies Xaden and me intently, but she keeps quiet.
“Your secret is still safe, by the way,” Lewellen says to Aaric, “though you might consider putting your father out of his misery. He has half his personal guard searching for you.”
“Shows how effective they are, don’t you think?” Aaric grimaces sarcastically. “So do you carry news? Or were you just gathered to hear Violet’s speech?” His attention jumps from person to person, no doubt cataloging the tiniest details of every shift in expression as he’s been raised to do. He’s always been the most observant of his brothers. “She was quite moving.”
“We heard.” Brennan offers me a flash of a proud smile. “And saw.”
“She’d be a great politician,” Aaric continues. “Or a general, maybe? Definitely nobility.”
“With that speech? At least a duchess.” Xaden shifts his weight, brushing his elbow against my shoulder.
I shake my head. “No thank you to…any of that. I have no love for politics, nor am I good at dealing with the Senarium.” I look around. “Okay, someone needs to start talking.”
“Lieutenant Riorson?” a rider with a messenger sash interrupts, calling out from the doorway.
“Be right back.” Xaden’s hand skims my lower back as he answers the summons.
“Your mission was discussed at the negotiating table today in hopes they would give us an extension,” Brennan says, “and given the participants at hand…”
That snake of anxiety strikes hard and true.
“Halden,” Aaric guesses, his emerald-green eyes narrowing slightly in speculation toward my brother. “Halden’s going with her, isn’t he?”
My jaw unhinges, then snaps shut at the apology filling Brennan’s eyes. “No fucking way.” I shake my head. “You cannot be serious.” I refuse to even think about it.
“They’re serious,” Aaric says without looking in my direction. “Poromiel would accept a Sorrengail without question, so if you need a royal capable of speaking for Navarre, they must think you’re headed to the isle kingdoms or northward.” He tilts his head, studying the older riders. “That about cover it?”
I’m going to be sick.
“Why are you ill?” Andarna asks.
“Halden?” Tairn muses slowly, and I swear I can feel his nonexistent eyebrows rise.
“So, we kill him if he makes her uncomfortable,” Andarna suggests. “Problem solved.”
“You cannot kill the heir to the throne.” Even though I’ve been tempted myself a time or two.
“You really are the wisest of them, aren’t you?” Lewellen huffs a sardonic laugh. “Our kingdom would have benefitted from you being the firstborn, Your Highness.”
“It’s Aaric,” he corrects, folding his arms. “Is that why you wanted me here? To see if I’d announce myself, since Halden wants to go gallivanting off on dangerous missions? Make everyone feel good and cozy that there’s still a spare?”
“Perhaps.” The duke smiles at Aaric.
“Admirable attempt, but I’m only here for my squad. I’ll dismantle the family business before I rejoin it,” Aaric quips.
“Your prince doesn’t want to play.” Mira arches a brow at Lewellen. “Now, tell Violet the rest, or I will.”
The comment reminds me: “Andarna’s demands?”
“Right,” Lewellen says as Xaden returns, still stern-faced but now holding a rolled parchment as he fills the space at my side. The duke pulls Andarna’s list from his pocket. “You already know point two is now in the hands of Captain Grady. But you won point three. The Senarium has agreed that all those who flew for Aretia will be welcomed back with a full pardon for their treason and sedition within the now-negotiated accord with Aretia”—he glances at Xaden—“which will be signed in the morning once the scribes finish drafting it. Personally, I think you scared the shit out of them by threatening to leave yesterday, Violet. Good job. Point four, Andarna will not submit for any examination—”
“Because that was never going to happen anyway,” she chimes in.
“And five, she will be granted access to hunt in the king’s forest whenever she pleases.”
“That one was just for fun.”
“You skipped the fliers.” I straighten my spine and look to my brother. “Keeping them safe and our squads intact is first on the list.” I narrow my eyes. We only have two days left. And we gave you the solution.