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“Aether, I—” Vexa began.

“If that’s the only way she’ll be persuaded, then so be it,” he murmured, standing from the table, his broad leathered frame seeming to absorb the light from the area.

“If that's the case… maybe we can bring her to the Conference?” Rethlyn suggested.

“Absolutely not. We cannot let his men become aware of her.” Aether immediately shot it down.

“You just agreed to tell me everything and already you’re leaving me out of important conversations and decisions,” I snapped. “They may be under your command, but I am not. I’m going.” My hand hit the table, still unsure what I was agreeing to go to.

“It's not the worst idea, Aether. We already know Fia doesn’t always trust what she hears. She needs tosee,” Vexa urged. “If she wants to know how things work here—those who govern us, this would be the event.”

“I do not see the benefit of Valkan finding out about her existence.” Aether's words were tense.

“I don’t know who Valkan is, but if you want me to enter the Strykka, then I will be involved in everything going forward. It’s up to you Aether.” It was nice having a bargaining chip.

“And we wouldn’t go around introducing her as a Duskboundobviously.” Vexa rolled her eyes.

Aether simply tensed his jaw but said nothing else.

Vexa rubbed her hands together. “Alright Effie, this is your wheelhouse. How can we get Fia into the Conference?”

Effie pursed her lips looking pleased at the acknowledgement but not so much that it involved me. “I suppose I’ll figure something out.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

My hands moved through linens,the silver moonlight spilling through tall arched windows of a dressing chamber. Tapestries lined the stone walls, their threads catching the glow of scattered candles. At the far end of the room, two girls sat at a grand vanity—one in a black gown with an elaborate updo, the other in a robe, dark waves cascading down her back.

They were so similar, their hair, their bodies, even their mannerisms. Twins, maybe.

"Tell me everything," the one in the robe said, legs tucked beneath her as she perched on a cushioned stool. "Who embarrassed themselves tonight?"

A laugh drifted through the chamber as the other girl removed delicate pins from her hair, letting the dark strands tumble free. "Well, Lord Sveinson's son tried to impress Lady Vallgrym by showing off his sword techniques."

"No..."

"Yes. Knocked over an entire table of refreshments." More pins clattered against the vanity's marble surface. "The look on his father's face—I thought he might expire right there in the middle of the ballroom."

"Did Lady Vallgrym at least pretend to be impressed?"

"She didn't have to. She was too busy trying not to laugh into her wine glass. Though that didn't stop Lord Sveinson from attempting to salvage the situation by suggesting his son give her private lessons."

"He didn't!"

"Oh, but he did. You should have seen how red she turned." She began wiping rouge from her cheeks with a cloth. "Though not nearly as red as Lady Baldurson when she realized her daughter had been sneaking off to the gardens with young Lord Breidfjord."

"Finally! You said she’s been making eyes at him for months."

"Yes, well, their mothers certainly didn't share your enthusiasm. I thought they might come to blows right there between the dessert courses."

"Over a kiss in the garden?"

"Over the scandal of it all. You know how they are about maintaining appearances." A yawn escaped her lips as she reached for her brush.

"And the Skaldvindr heir?" The girl in the robe's voice shifted to something softer. "Was he there?"

"Of course. Looking as dashing as ever." The brush paused mid-stroke. "Though he did ask about you."

"What did he say?"