Page 19

And just like that, Ayan’s smile is snuffed out. “You best hear it for yourselves.”

We follow Ayan into the castle, twisting down halls as we walk to the council room.

I nod a greeting as we pass a kitchen maid, silently deciding I don’t like her. She pushes her brown hair behind her ear, watching Henrik with hungry eyes, pining for the handsome commander. I noticed her about a week ago, and now she always seems to be around.

And she’s not the only one.

The women of court believe the knight-to-be is eligible, and now that things have returned to normal, they fawn over him just as they did before we ended up on the supply run in the Dorian mountains.

I brush the irritating thoughts away when we arrive at the council room. Xander and Alfred stand guard outside, and they open the doors when they see us. Xander offers me a smile, but it’s bare and tinged with apprehension.

A heavy feeling of foreboding settles in my stomach, and it doesn’t ease when we enter the room.

Lawrence is already here, along with a familiar High Vale pirate I didn’t think I’d ever see again.

A grin breaks across Captain Caldwell’s face when he spots me. “Lady Clover!”

I respond with a small smile, trying to read the room. Lawrence sits at the head of the table, drumming his fingers on the polished wooden surface. Audra claims the chair beside him, wearing an air of aloofness the High Vales have perfected.

Lyredon leans against the window frame. He’s dressed in black leathers like a proper shadow rogue, arms crossed, with one booted foot on the wall under the sill.

Pranmore sits on Lawrence’s other side, hands resting on the table. It’s the Woodmore’s expression that worries me the most. Tired despair has taken up residence on his face, and the fawn spots along his temples stand in high contrast against his fair skin. He stares at his hands, lips set in a grim line, lost in thought.

“What are you doing here, Caldwell?” Henrik asks, wasting no time on small talk.

The captain twists his hat in his hands, casting a nervous glance at Ayan. Apparently he’s aware of Ayan’s identity now and is even less comfortable in the presence of his duke than his king—even if Ayan hasn’t formally ascended his governing position just yet.

Lady Ellaine returned to Revalane in Ayan’s stead so he can remain in Cabaranth until the terms of the royal marriage are agreed upon. So far, Audra’s not cooperating.

“Two things, commander,” Caldwell says. “The first is that we must settle that last payment for your passage to Ferradelle.”

“Last payment?” Henrik looks at the king in question.

“So he claims,” Lawrence says dryly.

“I believe our terms stated you were to bring us back to Heistone.” Henrik raises his brows, challenging him. “Which you did not.”

“Er, yes. Well. I’ve also returned your things. I assume those mean something to you?”

Henrik merely stares at him.

“And I’ve brought intel,” Caldwell adds, as if that will make up for delivering us into a swamp of High Vale snakes.

“What kind of intel?” Henrik asks, his expression a little sharper than before.

Lawrence waves his hand toward a large crate in the corner. “Take a look for yourself.”

Henrik walks to the box, glancing at Caldwell. “You brought this with you?”

The captain twists his hat again, this time in the opposite direction. “That’s right.”

The lid has already been loosened, and the commander easily pushes it aside. When he glances down, he sucks a breath through his teeth.

“What is it?” I demand, hurrying to his side.

Cold dread washes over me the moment I spot the metal creation. I whip back to Caldwell. “What are you doing with a war golem?”

“Someone commissioned a whole passel of them. My comrades at the port have been transporting them for a good month.”