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“You do, but I must insist,” Vale said. “I’ve been sworn to secrecy too, if that makes a difference.”

Then I understood. Vale valued honor above almost everything else. He might not get along with his brother, might hate him at times—as he appeared to now—but he’d made a promise. He would have kept it to his dying day, but we’d cornered him. Or, more accurately, his brother had been reckless and exposed himself.

No matter how you spun the coin, the truth was about to come out.

“I swear,” I said.

“Me too,” Filip added.

Vale gestured to the settee. “Sit.”

He looked like he needed to take a seat more than we did, but Filip and I obliged while Vale created a thick barrier of air in front of his door. If the Clawsguard was listening, he would no longer be able to hear.

When Vale approached, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “He’s a whisperer, isn’t he?”

Vale winced, and his hand scrubbed over the back of his neck. “Yes.”

“Aren’t they supposed to be killed when they’re young?”

Filip had gone pale and didn’t seem to have a voice. That was fine. I would ask the questions for both of us.

“They are,” Vale agreed. “But my brother is the heir to the kingdom, and this power didn’t develop until Rhistel was nineteen turns—almost twenty. That’s very late.”

“No one noticed?” I pressed.

Vale looked away. “I was the first he used his whispering powers on.”

Oh. I sensed a story there and not a good one. But before I could decide whether I wanted to hear it, Vale continued.

“After that, Father told Rhistel to wear the gloves. But before that, we allowed the rumor to spread that it was from Rhistel’s winter magic. It only took one time of him pushing himself and nearly freezing someone to death for others to believe it.”

“You staged that?”

“We had no other choice.”

“But”—Filip sat up—“can’t whisperers lie?”

“What?!” I sat up straighter. Saga hadn’t mentioned that part.

“They can,” Vale answered, shooting me a look. “It’s the only fae power known to allow us to lie.”

“Another reason they are not allowed to live,” Filip added.

Yes, I understood The Liar’s Salvation potion was illegal, though even if it wasn’t, most wouldn’t use it anyway as it nullified magic. That made fae weaker, and in this world, power was everything.

“That’s how they can make up stories,” I whispered.

“Which is what happened when Father helped Rhistel stage the event that led others to think the heir possessed winter magic that was so strong he needed to wear ice spider silk gloves. The rumor sprouted from my brother’s own lips.”

My teeth dug into my bottom lip. “What do the gloves do?”

“They’re ice spider silk,” Vale repeated, as if that explained anything.

“And?”

“The silk negates any use of magic,” Filip said, and I remembered he’d mentioned that before and finally understood. The silk kept the heir’s power restrained.

“The ice spiders are in the Ice Tooth Mountains,” Filip continued as if he couldn’t help himself. “My people hunt them because otherwise they will hunt us, but the silk, if one can find a nest, is priceless.”